#how many baby mommas you got now?

[talesfrommedinastation]

Sign #1,876 that Tech's a redneck?

Rednecks LOVE piles of crap that they're 'working on', ESPECIALLY if it's car or technology related. It's one step away from old ladies and their piles of knitting around the house but don't tell THEM that.

"Imma get this here microwave going again, yessiree, why buy new when you can just fix what you found in the dump? Turn it up son, I need some Florida-Georgia Line to get to work!"

And look at our boi here in them Georgia colors, Bulldog red on and ready for football.

[tbaluver]

hellooo!! i absolutely love your fluffy family imagines/hcs so so much! say, do you have a reaction idea on LADS men when their child cries because of them? like they unintentionally hurt their babies feelings or unknowingly broke their promise (cuz they were busy/forgot) or absolutely anything that comes to your lovely genius mind aaa :'3

thank you and hope you have an amazing daaaay!! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

Making Their Child Cry- The Love And DeepSpace Men

in order: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus genre: fluff fluff + imagine a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much angel im happy to hear that! <3 this was such a cute idea i had soo much fun writing these and i had many scenarios for each one! i got most of my ideas thanks to @ilovemitsuya mwah ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) rafayel's part was also inspired by a mother and daughter from tiktok! <3 i lovee writing them as dads bc i just know they would make great dads and husbands! i hope you enjoy reading and i hope you also have an amazing day luv (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“what?”

“santa isn’t real,” xavier says softly, not fully grasping the weight of the words he’s just dropped onto his son. xavier never saw the appeal of santa. the idea of someone sneaking into your house, leaving gifts, eating your cookies, and disappearing without a trace never sat well with him. but now, as he watches his son’s world crumble in front of him, he realizes how wrong it was to voice his opinions out loud, especially to his baby that still believes magic is real.

“b-but yes he is!” his son’s voice trembles, his lip quivering as tears begin to glisten in his eyes.

xavier’s heart sinks, his baby boy’s holiday magic is about to shatter and he didn’t realize that it would hurt this much to him. he reaches out but his son backs away, a tiny sob escapes his lips and runs away from xavier.

“momma! papa says santa isn’t real!” the words come out in sobs as your son clings desperately to your legs, his face wet with tears.

you gasp, your heart breaking hearing your baby boy cry as you scoop him into your arms. xavier watches, looking at you for a silent plea for help as you cradle your son close.

“hon it’s okay,” you murmur as you rock your baby boy gently. “santa’s real...it’s just that...well, your papa ate all of santa’s cookies last christmas and it made santa a little upset so right now, santa and papa aren’t exactly getting along. but i’m sure they’ll fix it.” you eye xavier, signaling him.

your son sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve, his little face scrunches, “h-he made santa upset! papa you have to fix it!”

xavier reaches out and wipes the last few stray tears from his son’s cheek, “alright, i’ll fix it. i promise.”

later that night

your son is fast asleep in his bed, his small frame curled up under the covers until tiny trails of sparkling light begin to swirl around his room. they twinkle like stars, softly glowing in his room.

your son stirs, his eyelids fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. he rubs his eyes as he tries to focus on the situation unfolding in front of him. at the foot of his bed, standing in a warm glow of light, is a santa and elf puppet.

“ho ho ho! hello there sweet child!” the santa puppet's voice exclaims but really it’s just xavier, hiding beside his small bed frame as he projects his voice through the puppet’s mouth. “i’m sorry i cannot be there in person right now,” the puppet- or xavier continues, “but i sent my best elf to deliver this as a message to you! your father and i have talked, and we have made up!” the elf puppet nods and claps enthusiastically.

your son’s eyes widen with joy, “really?! yay!!” hearing his son’s excitement and happiness makes his heart full and he wishes he can see the joy in his son’s face.

“you should sleep now,” the santa puppet says softly, “i’ll be seeing you again on christmas night. goodnight, little one!”

your son grins, wishing a goodbye to the santa puppet as he pulls the covers up to his chin and snuggles back into the warmth of his bed. but the excitement that was building up in his chest refuses to let him sleep fully. his eyes flutter once more and catches a glimpse of the twinkling lights and a trail of sparkling dust as the puppets disappear from his sight.

xavier peeks into his soon’s room, “is everything alright?” he whispers, stepping inside. his son sits up, wide-eyed with a grin plastered on his face.

“daddad! santa just spoke to me!” his voice filled with excitement and joy, making xavier smile.

he crouches down beside him, playing along as if he wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “really? i just spoke to him too.”

your son’s giggles and xavier can’t help but join in and laugh with him, “you guys are best friends now!”

“of course,” xavier says softly, “anything to make you happy. i’m sorry i upset you earlier.”

your son wraps his arms around his neck in a hug, “it’s okay dad. you never would upset me. i love you.”

xavier’s smile softens, returning the embrace. “i love you too, my little star,” he whispers, a small glow of dust still glowing in the room.

Zayne:

“we’re losing her!”

the panic in the room was almost tangible.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him.

earlier

“okay daddy ready?” his daughter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she bounced up and down, clutching her beloved snow bear plushie. the little bear was dressed up as elsa from frozen and it was her most loved and cherished plushie she’s ever gotten.

zayne’s lips curled up into a smile from how cute his daughter was as he gives her a nod. he clears his throat before beginning. “let it go....let it goooo.” he sang flatly as tiny snowflakes and snowdrops danced in the air, falling gently on top of them. 

she gasped in delight as she watched the magic unfold before her eyes. to her it was way better than anything from the movie, it felt like real magic. she squealed with laughter, spinning in a circle until something unexpected happened.

an ice crystal drops into her plushie’s belly, forming a small tear on its soft stomach and its stuffing begins to fall out.

to zayne it was a minor mishap, just a small rip. but to his baby girl, it was an absolute catastrophe. her face twisted in shock and before zayne could even react, she screamed in horror, clutching her bear to her chest like she truly lost someone in a war.

“daddy!” she cries out, her tiny hands desperately trying to protect the bear as the stuffing slowly poured out. little did she know she was actually making it worse as she kept moving it around. “y-you monster!” her voice trembled.

hearing that made zayne’s heart sank but he swallowed his own disappointment and quickly scooped her into his arms. “i’m sorry, my little snowflake,” he says softly, rubbing her back as she hiccups with sobs. “it was an accident. we can fix her okay?”

she pulls away slightly, rubbing stray tears that fell from her eyes, “we can?”

zayne gives her a reassuring nod and a small smile, “i promise. she just needs a little surgery and she’ll be all better.” he brushes the hair from her face, helping her wipe away any tears with his thumb. “you must stay strong for her okay?”

he gently sets the plushie on the table in front of them, its belly exposed with cotton. “i’m going to get everything we need but i need you to stay and look out for her.” she nods seriously, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

zayne leaves the room momentarily and returns with a small pair of scissors, needle, and a thread. he kneels beside the table as his daughter stood nearby, watching anxiously.

the operation has begun.

zayne carefully snips away the thread, feeling the weight of his daughter’s gaze. a few clumps of stuffing accidentally falls out and she gasps, her eyes widening in panic.

“we’re losing her!” she cries, hiding behind zayne’s arms for comfort.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him. he continued to stitch, pulling the fabric of the bear back together, until the rip looked like it was never there. with one final knot, it was finished.

“there,” he gently smoothes her plushie’s fur, “all better now.”

her eyes widened, holding the bear closer to her chest. she squeezes it tightly, smiling widely. “thank you, you're the best!” she squeals, his heart lifting at the sight of her happiness.

she bites her lip and looks up at him, her voice small. “i-i’m sorry for calling you a monster papa,” she whispers.

zayne’s heart melted and scooped her up into a big hug, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of her small head. “it's alright my little snowflake. i know you didn’t mean it.”

she hugs him back tightly, her small frame nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “i love you daddy.”

“i love you too, dear. now let’s go get some deserving macaroons after our shift.”

Rafayel:

his son had always wanted to be just like rafayel. he’d watch with wide eyes as rafayel creates something beautiful in his studio. the way the artwork has come to life the moment he starts to paint or draw has always fascinated him.

as soon as his son announced that he had drawn something for him, rafayel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

“alright, show me what you’ve got my little glub glub!” rafayel grins, his heart was racing with excitement to see what his son had created.

but the moment his son had turned his sketchbook around, he froze. a chuckle escapes before he could stifle it. the drawing was rafayel’s face and it was....certainly unique. many would call it abstract. the proportions were comedically off and the colors were, well, not quite what rafayel expected.

“wow! this is....nice!” rafayel says, forcing the words out with a grin while desperately fighting back the laugh that was threatening to escape.

“raf....” you whispered, pinching his arm as a warning, your eyes narrowing with concern. you could tell rafayel was trying to hold back the sarcasm and you feared that their son might pick up on it.

“ouch!” he winces dramatically but it didn’t stop his amusement from creeping in. “i mean seriously, where did you learn to do this? and is this....pigmentation? where were you all these years?!” he lets out a small laugh, digging himself deeper into the joke.

unfortunately, his son was not laughing. his son pulls the sketchbook away and hugs it tightly to his chest, hiding the drawing.

“nono!” rafayel scrambles to fix it, “i promise my little glub glub, it’s sooo good!” but his words could not mask the laughter still lingering in his throat.

a pout forms on his son’s lip, arms crossed, just like what his father would do. “then why are you and mommy laughing?” his voice trembled, tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

rafayel froze, guilt washing over him once he saw tears streaming down his cheeks. “glub glub, mommy doesn’t know anything about art!” he tries to explain, his tone trying to remain gentle as he tries to cover your face with a pillow. 

he pulls his baby boy into his arms, “hey hey i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. your art is nice. i think you’ve got talent. i love it. i really do.”

your son didn’t respond for a few seconds but he relaxed a little later in rafayel’s arms. “you promise?”

rafayel nods, his lips curling into a smile as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of his baby son’s head., “i promise my little glub glub. now let’s frame your masterpiece on the fridge!”

your son squeals in joy, bouncing on the couch with excitement but you intervene with a teasing smile. “how about we let daddy display your masterpiece in his pieces as well?” you give rafayel a mischievous grin, watching as his eyes narrow at you

“that’s even better!” he says, trying not to drop his playful sarcasm. “see my little glub? i love you so so much that i’ll even put your beautiful artwork in mine.” he throws in a playful wink as he lifts his son into his arms for a tight hug.

Sylus:

your little girl had waited for sylus for hours. he had promised her playtime as much as she wants before bed. but now, now it was almost too late. she clutched her favorite crow plushie as if it was a stress ball. she sat in front of the window, glaring at the headlights of his vehicle that flashed by.

when the door finally swung open, it wasn’t the usual welcoming scene of you and your daughter running up to him and greeting him. instead it was just you greeting him, your lips met his in a soft and tender kiss and his baby girl, well, she glared at him with all the fury and intimidation she could muster.

“sweetie?” his eyebrows furrowed as he knelt down to meet her height but she only puffed out her cheeks further, gripping her poor crow plushie.

“you lied!” she points at him accusingly, “you promised playtime!” she whined, her voice going higher, a sign that she was this close bursting into tears.

he sighed deeply, “i’m sorry, sweetie. i didn’t-”

before he could finish his sentence, the crow plushie was thrown at his face that made him pause mid sentence.  he let out a long exhale, brushing it off. she was already upset and he did break her promise.

“i didn’t mean to break our promise my little dove,” he continues, “but i;m here now, okay? i’m here.” he extends his large hands to wipe any stray tears that were already forming in her eyes.

his heart shatters when he sees her bottom lip quivering as she sniffles in protest and when he sees tears starting to form and spill. he cooed softly, his large hands tenderly brushing the tears from her cheeks. “it’s okay sweetie. here. i have something to make it up to you.”

suddenly the door swings open and luke and kieran trots in, both dramatically holding up a mountain of her favorite dolls and toys. “little hunter!” they exclaimed in unison, striking a pose.

her eyes widened, noticing those were her favorite toys. the toys she had been dreaming and wanting for a while. “are those for me?” she gasped, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

sylus smiles, picking her up gently as she squeals in delight. her pout disappearing into a cute grin. “of course,” he replies, his voice much more playful and softer as he boops her tiny nose. “we can play as much as you want now.”

her little arms wrapped around his neck, not reaching all the way due to her tiny frame and his much larger frame. “thank you so much! i love you daddy!”

sylus chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you too sweetie.”

you couldn’t help but watch in awe at the scene, “what do you say sweetie?”

she paused, her face scrunching up as her head drooped down. “i-i’m sorry for throwing my plushie at you,” she whispered, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

sylus lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s alright sweetie. let’s not let it happen again. we can always work things out differently okay?”

she nods, listening intently.

“now, let’s all play, yes?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

the excitement in her eyes was truly adorable as she bounced in his arms, her little legs kicking with pure joy. “yes yes! let’s go!” she squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement.

luke and kieran had already made their way to her playroom and sylus held her close, guiding you to the room as well, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back.

[elizzsush]

Future Child | Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None Rating: SFW

Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.

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Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.

“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?

This threat was a real threat!

The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?

How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?

There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.

What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!

Apparently, you had three more places to check out.

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

.

.

.

The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.

Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.

Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!

Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...

"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.

"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.

The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.

You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"

"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.

.

.

.

You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lack of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.

Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.

"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.

"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.

You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.

.

.

.

.

“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...

Nothing.

Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

This felt like something out of a horror movie.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.

You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.

“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.

Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.

Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.

Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.

He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.

His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

__________________________

He was adorable but children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.

He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...

Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.

When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.

“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.

And... That was your lunch.

With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.

Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

That was weird right?

You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.

"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.

Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.

You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.

Scratch that, the kid wondered off.

"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.

__________________________

How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?

Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.

Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.

"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.

"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."

"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.

"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.

You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.

"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.

"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?

"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.

"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.

Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”

Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.

“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.

Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.

Um… who’s Malleus?

________________

Day four of having a child.

Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!

Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.

It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.

“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?

“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.

You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.

“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!

.

.

.

Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?

 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 

Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 

They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)

Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 

You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?

“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 

“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 

“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 

“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 

Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 

So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 

Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 

Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 

Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.

“Child Of Man?” 

“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 

“Papa!” 

__________________

“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 

“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 

“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 

“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 

“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.

“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?

“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 

“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 

“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.

“I am Malleus draconia”

__________________________

Fun Fact:

The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.

Also, Lilia knew all along.

Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol

NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!

________________________ ________________________

Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme

(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)

[zepskies]

Rest

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.

AN: Surprise! Just something short and sweet for Dean. 💜

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship; fluff, hurt/comfort, tinge of angst

On nights like these, the urge hits you the most.

You’re already in bed, wearing one of his old shirts and little else. You’re waiting for Dean, watching him finish brushing his teeth. He wraps it up by splashing some water on his face.

He stops for a moment, with his hands on the edges of the sink. He looks at his reflection and rubs a hand over the thick stubble on his face.

It’s halfway to beard territory. He needs a trim, he’s probably thinking.

(You don’t mind a little extra scruff.)

He hesitates, looking deeper at his own reflection. You notice the lines around his tired eyes, the weight of the last hunt still heavy on his shoulders. It's weighing on yours too, having carved out another small notch in your heart.

But you also know how many more layers this man carries, including the ones he adds himself.

“Dean,” you prompt quietly.

His head turns in your direction, and you give him a smile, beckoning him over.

Again, he hesitates. But he goes to you. After dipping his side of the bed with his weight, he smoothes a hand over your hair in affection. He takes off his father’s watch; the last piece of the hunter’s armor before he lays down on his back beside you. The old metal and leather watch clunks on the nightstand.

He then opens an arm to welcome you over, where you routinely find a place against his side.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravel. Your lips curve, but you gently push his arm back down to his side.

“Turn over,” you say, making a rolling gesture with your finger. Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, but he’s just curious enough to heed the encouragement of your hands on his arm and his back. He turns onto his side, facing away from you.

You settle yourself higher on your pillows, and you guide him backwards, until he’s resting against your soft upper body. You wrap your arms over his broad shoulders, and your hand moves, soothing across his chest. Even now, you feel the tension in his frame.

“Relax,” you say in a near whisper. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be the big spoon.”

A smile raises the corners of Dean’s lips. He even chuckles, shaking both of you.

“Yeah? Feels kinda weird,” he admits. He doesn’t think he’s been held like this since he was a kid.

“Well, give it a minute,” you say, with a bit of cheekiness.

Then you sigh and settle into this yourself. When your arms cross over his chest, Dean grabs your wrist, holding you there. He lets out another deep breath of his own.

Okay, he agrees, if only in his mind. Not bad.

He does relax against you, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash, feeling the tickle of your hair on his shoulder, and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. It's all familiar, and reminds him that he's home.

Dean leans over to turn off the light on his nightstand, but he returns to your embrace. He reaches back, just to stroke your cheek in a silent thanks. Smiling in the dark, you lay another kiss on the side of his head, and you close your eyes.

Dean does the same. He lets your warmth seep into his body, releasing the tension of a shitty hunt. He tries to let go of the faces he couldn’t save.

And he actually rests. 

AN: Just one of my little daydreams that I finally got a chance to write down. 💜

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[forevermorepassionate]

Baby Austin

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader

Summary: While moving in with your baby girl, Austin, you have a run in with your new neighbor.

Requested: Nope, this one came right out of my head:)

Requests are: open!

Authors note: This is part one of many that I plan on writing for this particular pair so if you have anything you’d like to see, please send in a request:)🫶

*Disclaimer - readers appearance is not at all dictated as in these pictures, they’re just for the general vibe:)

Y/n’s musical playlist (subject to change) ~ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1wM4Mg2TzOkn7fKNng5IkG?si=Vd8XrQL3S4-K0KwiS_DsWQ&pi=u-GSpFjgxtSq-B

masterlist

You smile, looking around at your empty apartment, then at the 5 month old baby in your arms.

“Welcome home, baby Austin.” You coo, tickling her nose with yours. “Look,” you whisper, “this is gonna be your nursery. It’s right off of momma’s bedroom. That way I can hear you any time you need me, okay baby?” She gurgles and sputters in seemingly a response.

“Alrighty,” you let out a content sigh, looking around your new home. You immediately begin planning on what you want to do. But first, you need to get out Austin’s things.

“Okay baby girl, you’re gonna sit in your car seat for just a second while I find which box this damn - darn!,” you correct yourself, mentally facepalming as you set her in the car seat, “playpen is in. That way you can have somethin’ to play with while momma unpacks.” You make a face at Austin and your heart swells when she burst into baby giggles.

You buckle her in, give her the jangly baby-proofed toy keys you put together after she kept taking yours to play with, and then decide to put on some music. You flick through your playlist and grab the speaker you use instead of your car radio, turning it up.

Looking back at Austin’s smiling face as she whips the keys around, then her big brown eyes meet yours and she coos.

Then you start slicing open boxes with the scissors you picked up at the Dollar General not long before the moving van got here. Finally, you find Austin’s playpen, sighing in relief. She had started to get fussy.

You pick her up out of her car seat after getting her playpen set up. You can’t help but hold her for a second, grazing your cheek with hers, breathing in the baby smell.

“You are just the best smelling baby, aren’t you? Cutie pie.” You tickle her nose and then set her on her belly so she can play.

You watch her for just a moment before going back to unpacking. You decide to go about it one room at a time, starting with the living room. Pictures, blankets, toys.

Your mother told you that you had an overabundance of pictures of yourself and Austin, that you would need space for others as she grew and you would have to get rid of them, but how could you ever do that? You decided you’ll take as many pictures as you can and plaster your home with them. She will know she’s always been your world.

As you’re hanging the pictures, she begins to cry. “Oh baby, is it time for a baba?” You stroke her cheek with her finger, calming her momentarily but now she’s really wanting to eat.

You sway with her while you heat her bottle in the microwave, humming along to the song playing.

The microwave beeps, and you settle into the almost new recliner that was delivered before you arrived.

—

Finally, Austin is down and in her bassinet. She’s settled in her nursery, though it’s not yet been decorated. That’s a job for tomorrow. Now you can start putting together the bookshelves and such.

First, before you even pick up the scissors again, you start a pot of coffee. It’ll be a long night and you have plenty of breast milk put back for Austin when she gets hungry.

After you make yourself your first cup of coffee, you slide out the box from behind your bedroom door, grunting and muttering to yourself about how ridiculously heavy it is.

Eventually you get everything out of the box and start trying to piece it together. You pull out the hammer, lightly tapping at the base of the bookshelf.

Moving on, you hold the nail in place, tapping it into the wood. But Austin cries out in her sleep, the hammer slips, and you yelp out a “Son of a bitch!” as you smash your pointer finger.

You drop the hammer, wringing your hand as you suck in a breath, listening for Austin. Hopefully you didn’t just wake her up.

You pause, quiet. A knock on your door startles you, your door creaking open. You hadn’t realized you had left it cracked.

“Hello? Is everyone okay in here?” A man’s soft voice calls through the cracked door. He doesn’t come in, thankfully.

You hop up and open the door fully.

Staring back at you, concern in his eyes, is a very handsome, very tall man.

“Yes, sorry if I was loud - I didn’t realize my door was open and I’ve been putting together furniture. I just moved in.” You flash him an apologetic smile.

“Oh, oh that’s alright. I, uhm, my name is Spencer Reid.” He smiles awkwardly, disarmed by your charming demeanor. He seems like he’s used to dangerous situations, he was very on guard when you opened the door to reveal your sleep deprived, oversized hoodie wearing figure.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Spencer Reid,” you hold your hand out to shake, smiling up at him.

“Oh sorry I don’t shake hands, er, the amount of germs on the human hand is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss,” he laughs a little ‘heh’ and a blush coats his face.

“Well, Spencer, I think that in order to kiss me you’ll need to take me out first.” You chuckle, finding his awkward demeanor endearing. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? You’ll have to ignore the mess that is my living room though.”

He hesitates, then smiles and agrees.

You lead him into your home, stepping around the various pieces of bookshelf and tools, leading him to your kitchen.

“Milk? Sugar? Creamer?” You ask, pouring coffee into two styrofoam cups. “Sorry I don’t have anything fancy, first day being in here.” You sheepishly admit, reaching into the fridge and dumping some milk in your cup.

“Sugar, please.” He watches intently as you dump just the right amount in his cup, then handing it to him with a little silver spoon sticking out the top. “What brings you to Virginia?”

“Work, I’m a teacher and the school will cover childcare as long as I’m completing my contracted hours.” He cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy at the mention of childcare. “I’ve got a baby daughter,” he noticed your face soften and your eyes seem to light up when you talk about her, “Her name is Austin. Austin Elizabeth Brown. She’s six months in a week.”

He gives a small smile, “That’s amazing. You’re here by yourself?”

You hesitate to give an answer, not wanting to give away any information that might be dangerous for you in the future.

Noticing this, he scrambles for something, “I, sorry, uhm, I’m actually an uh-” he finally finds what he was looking for, nearly spilling his coffee all over himself in the process, “I’m an FBI agent. I’m not being, weird or anything, I promise. Doctor Spencer Reid.” He holds up his badge and you can relax a little bit.

“Oh. No, uhm, it’s just us.” You look down at your fingers, scraping the side of the cup. “Her dad doesn’t want anything to do with her, so we’re free.” You shrug, smiling almost melancholily.

He just nods, not knowing what quite to say.

As if on cue, Austin begins to fuss.

You chuckle slightly, “Speak of the little angel,” you say sincerely. “You’re welcome to stay, Doctor Reid.” You call back with a smile as you head towards Austin’s fussing cries.

Staring down at her in her bassinet, you stroke her cheek. “Momma is here baby girl, momma is here.” You coo, smiling down at her. She calms. “That’s right baby, I’m right here sweet girl.” You cradle her, shushing her cries as you sway back and forth.

She calms, gripping at your hoodie, little fingers scratching as she snuggles to your chest.

You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway and your cheeks heat.

“You’re very good with her, many first time moms struggle to connect with their babies.” He says, eyes softening as he watches baby Austin.

“Thank you,” you smile and start to walk over to him. “Austin this is Doctor Reid, he’s our. . . Neighbor?” You trail off, questioning as you look up at the taller man.

“Right next door. Hi, Austin,” his voice goes high, “My name is Spencer Reid. But I’ll let you and your mommy call me Spencer. We’re friends.” He makes a tickling motion with his pointer finger and she giggles her little baby giggle.

“Do you like Spencer?” You laugh and brush your nose against hers, then head toward the living room.

“Sorry about the mess, it’s supposed to be a bookshelf, but obviously it’s not going too well.” You chuckle and sit down on the couch, leaving him to the recliner. You sit Austin on your knee, bouncing her as she coos.

You see Spencer watching Austin tug at your clothes, and then your hair, and then your fingers. “Spencer would you like to hold her?”

He sputters out an answer, he’s nervous to and he doesn’t know what to do. You make him hold his arms up in cradling motion, and you gently set Austin down in his arms.

“Cradle her head, don’t let her neck touch her chest for too long – she can suffocate. Try- try not to breathe on her face, it’ll make her lose her breath.” You spit it all out at once. “Nobody besides my mom and dad have held her yet, and it’s been nearly three months since they have.”

Austin starts to fuss and you begin to grab her, but Spencer hands over his badge for her to play with.

“My friends, they, well they had lives and once I got pregnant – I didn’t. Her d-a-d left when he found out I was pregnant with her. So, congratulations, you’re officially the fourth person to ever hold her. Not counting doctors or nurses. If I counted them I’d be jealous that they held her first.” You chuckle, watching him watch her. Ugh, call me crazy but wow does he look incredible holding her like that.

“Why did you spell it out?” He questions, cocking his head again.

You laugh at the unexpected question, “I just, I really don’t want her saying it before she says momma.”

He snickers, “Say Spencer, Austin, Spen-cer.”

“Hey! Don’t you dare, Spencer Reid. I’ll kick your FBI ass - butt!” You quickly correct yourself, groaning as you cover your face with both hands. “I’m trying not to cuss around her, she’s got such perfect little ears I don’t want to spoil her vocabulary before it even begins.”

“Actually, there hasn’t been any data indicating that swearing around children negatively impacts their intelligence or their vocabulary. In fact, swearing – used sparingly – can positively influence endorphins, lessen stress, and is more satisfying than a simpler expression of hurt or frustration would be if you, say, stubbed your toe.” He looks up at you as he speaks, staring straight into your eyes. His thumb strokes Austin’s arm in circles, comforting her as she starts to fuss. She immediately calms and starts to gurgle and coo at Spencer.

“Good to know, because momma’s not perfect is she baby?” You direct the second part of your statement at Austin, tickling her belly. She giggles, reaching for you.

Spencer angles his arms toward you, and you pick baby girl back up, giving her kisses on her cheeks.

A phone starts to ring and you start to look for yours, “Oh that’s, that’s work. I’m sorry. I will see you later though? It may be a while but I’m right next door – er, most times – if you ever need anything.” You nod, smiling at him as he answers the call.

“This is Spencer.” He looks around for his badge, finds it on the floor. Austin was playing with it and dropped it earlier.

You can hear a man’s voice through his phone, questioning where he’s been – they’ve been trying to text him.

“I’m so sorry, Hotch, I’ve been with my new neighbor.” He whispers a bye-bye to Austin, touching her nose with his finger and waving a goodbye to you.

You smile as he heads out the door, shutting it behind him.

“Well baby,” you smile down at Austin, “We have a new friend – our first! He’s a cutie isn’t he?” She gurgles in response, almost as if agreeing. You laugh out loud, and then set her down in her play pen so you can finish putting together the bookshelves.

—

Thank you guys for reading!

Tag list (message me or comment to be added:))~

@khxna

[imtryingbuck]

Neighbours.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s moved next door to you and your children, your children wants to play matchmaker.

Word count: 7,322

Warnings: fluff. angst (only a tiny bit though) children being adorable. reader nearly takes her finger off/blood. mention of a dead beat dad. Bucky being the cutest. Alpine being the cutest. swearing. mention of health insurance problems? I’m British so if I’ve gotten it wrong just…leave me alone. small mention of financial issues/being in debt. 

Masterlist

Opening the door to the apartment you shut it again, opening slowly before repeating the action a few more times, sighing in defeat that nothing had changed you took in the sight of the once cleaned apartment that now looked like a bomb had hit it.

Toys laid out on the floor, your daughters toy prams laying on their sides with the baby dolls hanging out of them, legos scattered around, broken crayons laid amongst the chaos.

“Kids?” You called out as you removed your coat.

“Oh…hi Y/n the kids are next door” Poppy your kid’s babysitter says as she pops her head around the corner.

“With Ms Hopewell?”

“Um no the new guy”.

Your heart stopped. The apartment next door had been empty since you and the kids moved in to your apartment two years ago, hearing that there was now a tenant living there didn’t bother you what bothered you was that it was a man who was alone with your children whilst the babysitter was-

“What was that?”

“They, um their next door” Poppy replies quickly.

“No I got that bit but what I want to know is who just coughed?”

“I-it’s my boyfriend-“

Oh your day just kept getting better and better.

“Get out. Your sacked”

“B-but Y-“

“No. Tell him to put his shirt on and I want you both to leave my home. Now”

The regret of not listening to Marina the mum of your daughters friend who had warned you not to hire the sixteen year old babysitter was hitting full force but at the time you was desperate and in need of a babysitter so you could work. Now you felt foolish that you gave her the benefit of the doubt, just for her to think it was acceptable to bring her boyfriend who you did not know into your home and to allow your children to be next door with a complete stranger.

Not listening to Poppy’s excuses you told her one more time to leave as you went next door where you could now hear your children’s cheerful voices.

The front door to the apartment was open, calling out for your kids where you heard them running towards you.

“Momma”

“What the hell do you think you two are doing? How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers.” You scolded despite seeing them okay and well.

“Mr Bucky isn’t a stranger momma” Cora your daughter says sheepishly.

“Mama” Jasper your son - the youngest out of the two - laughs as he pulls on your shirt.

Before you could reply to either child you hear soft footsteps coming towards you.

“I’m sorry Ma’am-“

“You can’t just let strange kids into your home-“

You cut yourself off when you look up. Not expecting a six foot, built like a brick wall yet looked soft oddly enough man. His bright blue eyes shined through the dimmed hallway, brown hair long enough to be pulled up in a bun that sat low on the back of his head, with a few strands of wavy hair framing his handsome face.

“Momma Mr Bucky has a black arm and it’s cold!” Cora giggled pointing at her left arm.

“Cora!” You scolded, apology on the tip of your tongue before this Mr Bucky laughed.

“It’s true, I do have a black arm” And that’s when you notice it.

“Momma guess how he lost it? Guess, momma guess” Cora jumped around on the spot causing Jasper to do the same.

“I-umm I’m not sure sweetie”

“He didn’t eat his veggies and his arm fell off!” She laughed “he told me and Jaspy that we have to eat all our veggies so it don’t happen to us” her eyes widened comically.

Looking up at the man who you assumed the worst of as he stood there with his arms crossed and a huge grin on his lips making his eyes crinkle.

“It’s true ma’am”

“Mama kitty” Jasper tugs on your shirt again, taking your eyes away from the man to your son who was pointing at a ball of white fluff as it came trotting over “name kitty mama”

“Her names Alpine-“ Cora tries to correct.

“No name kitty” Jasper pouts causing you and the man to laugh.

“You’re very right, her names kitty” he smiles softly. “By the way I’m James, well everyone calls me Bucky” He holds his right hand out for you to shake.

You tried to ignore the way his hand was warm, calloused yet soft, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n”.

“It’s nice to meet you. And listen I’m really sorry that I had your kids in here, um they were outside in the hallway-“

“Excuse me?”

“T-they were outside” he points behind you “I had just came back from the store when I saw them, um Cora said that Poppy had a boy inside and they were told to play in the hallway” He winces as he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s true momma. They were kissing” you grimaced and the anger you felt for your now former babysitter increased.

“Cora said you was at work and at the time I didn’t see the harm in letting them in to my apartment b-but now I see I did the wro-“

“No no no, I-thank you.” You cut him off, feeling slightly ashamed for overreacting.

“It’s okay, they’re great kids.”

“Thank you, I best get them back so I can feed them. I’m sorry if they caused any problems for you” you smiled, finally stand whilst picking Jasper up and placing him on your hip.

“They didn’t cause any problems, don’t worry. Bye Mr Jasper bye Miss Cora”

“Bye bye Mr Bucky and Miss Alpine” Cora waves already leaving.

Jasper just waves, his thumb sliding into his mouth.

“Bye Bucky”

“Bye, oh um Y/n… I would wash the bedding, the bedroom closest to this wall if I was you” He says grimacing as he knocks on the wall to his left.

Your bedroom.

“Great. Just great, thanks for the tip”. Giving him a tight lip smile you give him an awkward wave and walk back into your home.

“I-I’m sorry Y/n please just give me another chance” Poppy begs.

“Absolutely not. Now I want you to leave”

“But I need this job Y/n please”

“You told my children, the same children I pay you to look after, to go and play in the hallway so you could have sex in my bed! Oh don’t look so shocked, I found the used condom on my floor - thanks for that. Now don’t come back”

“Wi-will you give me a referen-“ You slammed the door in her face.

The audacity of this girl.

“Mama kitty” Jasper catches your attention and sure enough there’s Alpine walking around in a circle around your two year old.

“How did she get in here?” All you got in response was Jasper sticking his tongue out out you. “Let’s get her back home yeah?”

Now here came the tricky part, did you pick her up? Or just open the door and pray to a higher power that she didn’t run off?

You really hoped that she wouldn’t run off as the thought of chasing after a cat exhausted you but picking up the cat wasn’t your fan favourite either, from thirteen years old you’ve had a fear of touching cats after the neighbours tabby dug his claws into your skin and clung on for dear life.

“Okay bubba I need you not to move, I’ll be right back okay” great parenting leaving a two year old home alone, you scold yourself. Running out of the door and rapidly knocking on Bucky’s.

“Hey, Y/n are you okay?”

“Alpines in my apartment and I’m scared to touch cats so… come get her”

“Shit. I’m sorry I don’t know how I missed her getting out-wait did you just say you’re scared to touch them?”

Rolling your eyes as he chuckles “don’t laugh it’s a real phobia”

That has him practically crying. “So you’re afraid of cats?”

“No, I just don’t like touching them unless they’re asleep-stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry doll- hi Mr Jasper, come on missy you’re scaring our neighbour” he laughs as he bends down to pick up the cotton ball of fluff.

“I’m not scared of her!”

“Whatever you say doll, whatever you say”

“It’s-“

“A real phobia I know” winking at you “where’s Miss Cora?”

“At her friends for a sleepover so it’s just me and little man tonight” even though your daughter is two blocks away, you couldn’t help but miss her and mainly worry despite knowing she’s safe.

“That sounds like fun, I’ll see you”

And just as he’s about to cross over the threshold Jasper interrupts him. “Kitty stay”

“No baby kitty has to go home now”

“No kitty stay mama”

“Not tonight baby”

Here comes the waterworks in 3…2…1…

Jasper burst into a fit of tears, throwing himself backwards kicking his little arms and legs out.

“Kitty stay” he stutters, it breaks your heart hearing him cry like that.

“Ma-maybe if it’s okay with you Alpine can stay for a bit? I don’t mind honestly and she’s great with kids” Bucky offers and at his words Jaspers tears start to cease.

“Yeah umm yeah that’s okay with me” you say smiling lightly at Bucky.

“Behave missy” he tells the cat who’s trying to jump out of his arms, and once she’s free she runs over to Jasper rubbing herself all over him that he starts giggle at her fur tickling him.

“Once he’s asleep just knock on the wall and I’ll come and get her-“

“Stay” you blurt out instantly feeling the heat warm your cheeks “th-that’s if you don’t have anything better to-“

“I would love to” he smiles.

And so Bucky and Alpine join you and Jasper for dinner and some cartoons.

You was sitting next to Bucky on the couch when he taps your shoulder and nods his head in the direction of Jasper and Alpine, you couldn’t help but take your phone out and taking a picture of the two cuddled up together, fast asleep.

Months had passed before you had even realised. Bucky and Alpine spent most of their days now at your apartment, which you couldn’t complain as you now had another adult to talk to.

You had just left to go and get something from the store leaving Bucky alone with the kids. Jasper was playing with his toys with Alpine whilst Bucky and Cora was sat on the couch together.

Everything was good until.

“Momma doesn’t have a boyfriend” Cora told Bucky causing him to choke on his drink.

“Oh…”

“Do you want to be momma’s boyfriend?”

“I erm I’m not sure why?”

“Momma will make you happy, she makes me and Jaspy happy and she makes us dino nuggies for dinner and she reads us bedtime stories and makes sure there’s no monsters under the bed”

“Really?”

“Yep she would do that for you too if you was her boyfriend” the six year old put her hand on Bucky’s left arm as she told him.

“I’m not sure Cora…”

“Why not? Do you not like my momma?”

“I do sweetheart but it’s just a little bit more complicated than that”

“Momma said she likes you, I asked her. You can make her happy and she’ll make you happy. I don’t want momma to cry anymore”

“What do you mean?”

“She cries at night when she’s in bed but she doesn’t know that I know. If you be her boyfriend she won’t cry anymore”

Bucky knows Y/n cries at night, due to his enhanced hearing he can hear her. It pains him to hear her sobs until she’s eventually cried herself to sleep.

The knowledge that Cora knows it happens too makes his heart hurt. She’s six years old and all she wants is her momma to be happy even going as far to ask him - the ex brainwashed assassin who’s over a hundred years old - for help.

And the way she’s looking at him doesn’t help.

“So… will you think about it?” Cora asks when she doesn’t receive a response.

“Yeah I’ll think about it”

Five minutes go by.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Not yet”

“Okay”

Another five minutes go by.

“Now?”

“Still thinking Cora”

Jumping up from the couch when he hears the door come open he jogs over to help you with the shopping.

“Hey, thanks you’re a lifesaver” sighing in relief as the bags are released from your arms.

“No problem”

“Did they behave?”

“Yeah, well apart from Miss Cora” he winks at Cora as she comes over.

“No momma it was Mr Bucky that was naughty”

“Why what did he do?”

“He ate all the cookies and didn’t let me have one” she pouts.

You had to stifle the laugh from coming out as Bucky’s eyes widen and jaw dropped open, gasping dramatically at the claims.

“Y/n it was the other way round! I swear”

“No it wasn’t momma I have witnesses” holding her one finger up to you she runs back into the living room to get the witnesses. Bucky stands there with his arms crossed and lightly tapping his foot.

“They saw it happen” laying her dolls down on the counter she looks at you then at Bucky with a smug smile.

“Y/n whatever they say it’s a lie!”

That time you couldn’t hold the laughter in any more.

“You two…” shaking your head.

Seeing a grown man arguing with a six year old and her toys about them being liars makes you laugh even more.

Later that evening Cora says goodnight to Bucky and Alpine, you hear her ask him “have you thought about it now?” Causing your eyebrows to furrow.

Walking him to the door you ask “what was Cory talking about before she went to bed?”

“Oh nothing doll, see you tomorrow”.

You was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the knock at the door had Cora running straight towards it.

“Hi Mr Bucky hi Alpine”

“Hello Miss Cora”

“I’m a princess today”

“I see, hi Princess Cora” he chuckled.

“Hello, would you like to come into my castle?”

“Yes please, thank you”

Their footsteps got closer towards you, turning round you saw Alpine run past jumping straight on to the couch where Jasper was sitting.

“Momma Mr Bucky’s here” she told you before going back to the living room.

“Hi Bucky”

“Hey, so Cora’s a princess today then?”

“Yep. That’s her fourth dress change since she came home from school”

Chuckling as he sits down on the stool he watches you move around the small kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh no I’m fine, how was work?” You asked.

“It was fine just the usual, Sam being a pain in my backside”

“Fair enough” you laughed “hey um Bucky I need to ask a huge favour, you can say no okay so don’t fee-“

“Doll ask me”

“Remember you can say no, okay? But I have to work tomorrow as someone’s off ill and it’s Saturday so I was wondering if it’s no issue for you to look after the kids for me?”

He doesn’t even think about his answer as he answers “of course, just tell me when I should come over”

“Really? Oh Bucky you’re a lifesaver, I’ll have to pay you next week if that’s okay?”

“No absolutely not Y/n, I’m not going to take money off you”

“But I can’t ask you to look after them for free”

“Your not, I’m not taking money off you doll and that’s final”

He gets up off the stool and moves into the living room, you hear him tell the kids that they’ll be spending the day with him and the kids cheering.

Ever since you sacked Poppy you’ve been struggling, luckily your boss has been understanding that you need to work certain hours however the hours you now work is way less then what you use to, tomorrow will be the day you work longer that five hours.

Ms Hopewell from next door normally looks after Jasper but since it was the weekend she didn’t need to, plus her daughter was taking her out for the day-

“Shit-fuck goddamnit!” So lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise how close the knife was to your finger that was until you felt the sharp pain and warm sensation of blood trickling down your hand.

“Shi-shoot Y/n are you okay?” Bucky comes running over stopping when he see the blood.

“I’m fine-is it suppose to hurt this much? It really hurts”

“Doll we need to get you to the hospital”

“No, no it’s fine I’ll put a plaster on it-can you hand me the first aid kit from the cabinet”

“Y/n you need stitches-“ He attempts

“I can’t. I don’t have insurance anymore” you mutter.

“What?”

“The kids have but I had to give mine up so I could have insurance for Jasper. I can’t afford to pay the hospital bill Bucky”

You’ve never been ashamed of the fact that you couldn’t afford treatment for yourself it was just one of those things, your kids or you - it was an easy choice. There’s only ever been one time that you slightly regretted that decision and that’s when you broke your ankle just before you moved into the apartment, it had healed fully after nearly a year of being broken and the only time it affects you is in the winter or when you stood up to fast.

You knew he was right about needing to get stitches as you was pretty sure you could see the bone - you couldn’t - but you couldn’t help the shame that crept into your veins admitting it to Bucky that you couldn’t afford to pay for said stitches. The thought of getting another letter with big bold red letters telling you that you was in debt made your heart pang with fear.

Despite the pain in your finger and the cramp that was starting to seep into your hand you was still not going to go to the hospital.

“I’ll pay for it doll. Come on let’s get it sor-“

“No absolutely not. I’m not your charity case Bucky, just pass the first aid kit over and I’ll put a plaster on” You snapped. Instantly regretting it when you see Bucky’s eyes go sad.

“I’m not saying you are Y/n but a plaster isn’t going to do anything doll, I honestly don’t mind paying please just… just let me help you out”

“I can’t Bucky okay, I just can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Okay. Okay how about I take you to my work place we have a doct-“

“What part of I can’t afford it don’t you understand?”

“She’ll do it for free! If you could stop interrupting me for one second. Dr Cho will do it and she won’t charge I promise.”

Nibbling on your lip as blood splashed down the counter you started to shake your head.

“I can ring her now and ask her to come here if you want?”

“I-will she?”

“Of course give me a minute” he steps away to ring the doctor. “She’s on her way” he comes closer and helps you wrap your hand in the tea towel.

“Bucky, I’m really sorry for snapping I-“

“Y/n it’s fine okay. Cho’s on her way she’s nice and she’ll fix your finger”

“Momma what happened?” Cora goes pale at the sight of blood.

“Momma had a bit of an accident Princess Cora, can you go back to Mr Jasper and Alpine for me?” Bucky says before you had the chance.

“Okay but is momma okay?”

“Yes sweetheart she is, don’t worry”

Cora looks at you waiting for confirmation and when she gets a smile and a nod she runs back to her brother and Alpine.

“Thank you Buck-shit it’s really stinging”

“I know, she should be her-“ the knock at the door cuts him off, just before he walks off he kisses you on your forehead.

Hearing him talk to the doctor your fingers lightly grazed the part where he had kissed, a small shy smile made its way on your lips.

“Cho this is Y/n, Y/n this is Cho”

“Hi it’s a pleasure to meet you, James said that you’ve injured your finger?”

“Hi, and yeah I-I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and sliced myself” awkwardly lifting your hand up that now had dry blood on your arm.

“Hi Miss who are you?” Cora comes over with her hand on her hip.

“Hello I’m Helen”

“Hello Helen I’m Princess Cora, that’s momma, Mr Bucky and over there is Jasper and Alpine”

Helen curtsy’s at Cora making the six year old giggle “It’s nice to meet your family Princess Cora”

The implication that Bucky was apart of your family didn’t slip your notice and by the look of Bucky’s face it didn’t him either, neither one of you said anything to correct her though.

Cora walks off once again and Helen turns her attention back to you, unwrapping the towel she turned to Bucky telling him what she needed out of her medical bag.

With him distracted you looked at Helen “I-I can’t pay you so it’s okay just to put a plaster on it, it’ll be fine in a few days”

“Don’t be silly I’m not charging you” she says softly. “Thank you James, Y/n this might hurt but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can”

It was weird because it hurt until Bucky held your other hand. Strange.

“All done, if it’s easier for you I’ll come back here in a few weeks to remove the stitches”

You thank her once again as Bucky walks her to the door. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m okay. Bucky I really am so-“

His lips cut you off. Said lips being attached to yours.

“Stop apologising, it’s my turn now - Y/n I’m really sorry for that” he says once he’s pulled away.

“Did you not like it? Was it bad?” You panic, it was your first kiss in over two years to you it was magical but not to him as he apologising.

“God no doll, to both questions. It’s just I should have asked first-why are you smiling like that?”

“C-can I have another one?”

Bucky chuckles just as his lips gently touch yours again.

A week after nearly chopping your finger off and having not one, not two but three kisses with Bucky, he knocked on the door and let himself in like you told him to do.

“Hi Buck”

“Hey doll, where’s my two favourite people in the world at?” Pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Jaspers down for a nap and Cora’s in her room, Buck she’s upset”

“Why? Who’s hurt her?”

“One of the girls in her class is having a sleepover and invited all the other girls in the class, apart from Cory”

Your heart breaking again remembering how sad she looked coming out of school, normally she was all smiles and talking a thousand miles per hour, filling you in on what she had done that day but not today. It wasn’t until you got home where she finally broke down in tears.

“When?”

“Tonight, apparently all the other girls knew and was told not to tell Cora”

“Is her friend going?”

“Abbie? No she’s in a different class so she’s hasn’t been invited either”

“Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be back”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise doll” he winks before kissing you and leaving.

And sure enough twenty minutes later he was walking back through the door. This time he had two bags in his hands.

“Bucky?”

“Me, you and the kids are having our own sleep over and it’s going to be way better than that snobby-“

“She’s six Bucky”

“And? She didn’t invite the best girl to her sleep over so there for… she’s snobby”

Shaking your head you couldn’t help but smile as he pulled different snacks and drinks out of the bag onto the coffee table.

“So I’m thinking that we’ll make a pillow fort, watch movies and eat snacks and I’ll order us a pizza from Cora’s favourite place?”

Every fibre in your being was screaming at you just say those three words but you couldn’t, not yet at least. You and Bucky wasn’t even dating all you did was share a few kisses, it’ll be weird to blurt out them words.

“Mr Bucky you’re here” Cora says coming out of her bedroom.

“I’m here sweetheart, did your momma not tell you what was happening tonight?”

“No, what’s happening?”

“Us four are having a sleepover”

“Really?” She squeals and runs into Bucky who lifts her up. “Thank you thank you! This is the best day ever!”

You hear Jasper call out for you from his room so you leave Bucky and Cora alone. Picking Jasper up from his bed and walk in to the living room where the two year old says something that stops not only you in your tracks but Bucky and Cora.

“Dada”

His little arms reaching out to the only man in the room. Bucky’s eyes bounce from you then to Jasper, then to you. You can see it in his eyes that he’s begging you to tell him what to do but you can’t, you’re completely frozen.

“Bucky” he says slowly as to make Jasper understand but all he receives is-

“Dada” Jasper giggles and repeats the word a few more times.

Bucky finally puts Cora down and slowly makes his way over to you two and when he’s just in reach Jaspers jumped out of your arms and into Bucky’s. As soon as Bucky has hold of him you walk out of the room going straight to your bedroom. Shutting the door you burst out crying.

“Doll? I’m coming in okay?” It had been close to ten minutes since you had walked out. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry”

“Why are you sorry for?” Wiping your tears he pulls you into his chest.

“I tried correcting him but he just wouldn’t stop, even Cora told him not to”

“Did she say anything to you? About their father I mean.”

“No she just looked really upset.”

“He erm, he-“

“Y/n you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay”

“No no I want to, I trust you. He left, well he kicked me and Cora out when I was four months pregnant. Everything was fine that morning when we woke up, he went to work I stayed at home and when I was putting his dinner out he came home with an envelope in his hands and threw it on the table, he walked into Cora’s bedroom walked out with a huge bag a few minutes later then did the same with our room” wiping the fresh tears that had fallen, you hadn’t spoken about that day to anyone - not even your family.

“He told me to open the letter so I did an-and inside was paper, right. When I read it, it said that he had given up his rights to Cora and the unborn baby. I asked him why he was doing this and he told me I ruined his life when Cora was born and I was doing it again with the new baby, said he wanted to live his life without being tied down. Kicked me and a crying three year old out, at first I thought he had been cheating on me but it turns out he wasn’t, there was no one on the side he just wanted to live his life”

Bucky was practically shaking, you could feel the anger coming from him.

“I found out a few months later that all of our friends knew what he was doing, promised him that they would keep his secret and that he started the process when I was a few weeks along. Everyday he told me and Cory he loved us, spoke to the bump saying he couldn’t wait to meet them all while he and everyone around us knew what he was doing.”

“Y/n… doll I’m so sorry”

“Why it’s not your fault, you know Cory never even mentioned him after it happened not once, I thought she would of because she was such a daddy’s girl three nearly four years old and she knew, she knew he didn’t want her anymore so she never asked when she was going to see him or called out for him during the night. If he had just told me he didn’t want me anymore that I would have been okay with bu-but to not want anything to do with his kids? It didn’t make sense to me”

“Has he even been in contact with you since?”

“No. I got a phone call once from his friend who told me that he was really struggling to sell the house and somehow it was my fault”

“How was it your fault?”

“God knows, he started rambling off then started calling me names when he heard Ms Hopewell’s son talking in the background, said I had moved on pretty quick when I hadn’t. He was there helping me fix up my bed after his mum found out I was sleeping on the floor”

“Doll-“

“Don’t apologise again please Bucky, I got through it I’m fine now. I think hearing Jasper call you dada made unwanted emotions come up you know? You’ve obviously realised that he doesn’t speak much even at two there’s only a few words he can say, I don’t know where I went wrong with that but I’ve tried, I’ve tried teaching him other words but he just don’t.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n you are an incredible mum, those two kids out there are the most sweetest loving people. Jasper will start talking soon, I just know it”

You tried, you really did.

“I love you”

Oh the silence was killing you.

“I love you too” he smiled softly.

He leant in for a kiss when-

“Is Bucky our new daddy?”

“Not yet sweetheart” not yet played in your mind over and over even as he stands up winking at you and taking Coras hand in his and walks back to the living room.

That night after all the excitement needed to come to an end all four of you climbed into your bed. Cora tucked snuggly in your arms, Jasper in Bucky’s, Bucky’s left arm over your waist pulling all three of you closer to him. Alpine slept curled up in a ball at the bottom.

For the first time in just over two years you went to sleep dried faced and peacefully.

And unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in a very very long time that Bucky only had happy dreams as he slept.

It had been a month since the sleepover and confession, within that month Bucky had practically moved in. Alpine spent all her time with Cora and Jasper, sleeping with Jasper at night.

Bucky had to go on a work trip, he’d been gone for just over two weeks now and to be truthful you was missing him even if you did speak to him everyday, him ringing every night to say goodnight to the kids and speaking to you for a few minutes before he had to leave.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you couldn’t stop worrying when Bucky hadn’t called you the night before or that day. As you was cleaning the apartment the knock at the door made you jump. Cora went to jump up and answer it but since you knew it wasn’t Bucky you told her to stop receiving a frown in response.

Answering the door you froze.

“Hi, are you Y/n?” Nodding your head at the man he smiled. “Hi I’m-“

“Momma it’s Captain America!” Cora squealed from behind you.

Turning his attention from you to Cora he smiled softly “hello you must be Miss Cora, Bucky’s told me all about you”

“You know Mr Bucky? Momma he knows Bucky”

“I-I know sweetie” your eyes still trained on the blonde “would you like to come in?”

“Thank you”

Pulling Cora closer to you, you watched as Steve walked into your home. You couldn’t put your finger on it but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you had in your stomach. Steve walked into the living room where Jasper and Alpine was.

“Cora take Jasper and Alpine into your room please”

“Why momma?”

“Just do as I say”

Cora listened and picked up her younger brother who had Alpine in his arms and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her you let out a deep breath.

“Hi, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, is Bucky alright?”

“Yeah he’s fine, he asked me to come over and pick you guys up. It’s better if he explains”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at the tower, I need you to pack some clothes and come with me”

“For how long?”

“Enough for a few days”

“What’s Bucky’s favourite book?”

“Huh?”

“What’s his favourite book?” You asked again with your arms crossed.

“The Hobbit, why?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back”

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Just to see if it was really you” Steve’s laugh made you smile as you walked into Cora’s room.

Once packed Steve stood there holding the bags in one hand and in the other Cora’s hand as they both stood watching with amused smiles as you struggled to get Alpine into the cat carrier that Bucky had brought over a few weeks earlier when you both took her to the vets.

After almost ten minutes of struggling all it took was Jasper to pick her up and place her inside.

Never in your life have you been more thankful for your two year old.

“Bucky gave me his car keys” giving Steve a questionable look, he smiled “he said that he brought car seats for the kids and since we don’t have any laying around the tower it would be better if I took his car”

You didn’t know that he had brought car seats…

“O-oh”

You watched in awe as Steve strapped Cora into her seat that was princess themed easily, when he caught you staring at him “Bucky and I practiced with Morgan, Pepper her mum helped us figure it out. Got to say we’re naturals now” he laughed.

“I honestly didn’t know he was doing this”

“He really likes you and these kids, don’t tell him I told you this but he’s been reading books about kid’s development and stuff.”

“No he hasn’t…” you say as you put your seatbelt on.

“He has. That’s how I found out about you guys”

“I-I’m-wow. I didn’t know”

Steve chuckles at your shocked expression, “like I said he really likes you”

The rest of the drive was quiet between you and Steve, Cora asking the blonde a million of questions about everything and anything and him answering all of them with as much enthusiasm as she gave.

You didn’t have very much time to stare in fascination at the huge tower as Steve pulled into the underground garage, the squeals from both Cora and Jasper had your attention going to where they were shouting, Bucky stood there with his hands deep in his pockets and a large smile on his face as the car pulled up to a stop, going straight to the back door where Jasper was sat.

“Hey little man”

“Dada!”

“I’m here buddy, come on let’s get you out of this seat, yeah”.

Steve had already gotten out and making his way to help Cora out of her seat.

“Bucky it’s Captain America and he’s my friend” she said making both men smile.

“Is he now? Am I still your friend?”

“Of course Bucky! Your my best friend”

You had removed yourself from the car and made your way to get the bags out of the boot when Steve’s voice stopped you.

“I’ll get them don’t worry”

“You’ve done enough-“

“No honestly it’s fine”

"Come on doll, he'll be fine plus everyone's dying to meet you” Bucky says as he places Jasper further onto his hip.

"Are you sure Steve?"

"I'm sure, don't worry"

Reluctantly leaving Steve to grab the bags you take Bucky's free hand and hold onto Cora's, all four of you make your way into the large building.

"Doll, after I introduce you to the team you and I need to talk” Bucky whispered in your ear making you nervous slightly. 

“Ah here’s the Manchurian Candidate’s little family, welcome I’m-“

“Iron man!” Cora cut him off.

“You know who I am then?”

“Yes! You fly in the air and it’s so cool!” She says excitedly.

“I fly too” Sam Wilson laughs - Cora’s eyes go wide at seeing him.

“T-the Falcon! Momma look it’s the Falcon a-and Black Widow an-and Scarlet Witch! A-a-and momma it’s Thor!” She spoke so fast she started to stutter, her entire body shaking with excitement making everyone chuckle.

You all heard hurried footsteps and a voice speaking with a hint of panic come closer. “Are they here? I’m sorry I’m late”

The loud gasp had everyone’s eyes snapping down to Cora - including yours and Bucky’s. “I-it’s Bruce! M-momma he-it-Bruce-Hulk” she lets go of your hand and runs up to a very confused looking Bruce “I’m-your-your hulk! You’re my favourite! I have so so so so so many toys of you don’t I momma? I do Bruce!” Once again everyone chuckles at her, not that she pays any attention to them, too busy looking up at the man who she’s pretended to be when she’s playing.

“Hi, you must be Cora?” Bruce says with a soft hue coating his cheeks.

Her eyes widen comically, turning to you slowly her chest rising and falling fast. “B-Bruce knows my name mo-momma”

“I know beautiful, just breathe okay”

“Can I hug you please?” She asks politely and nearly squeals when he nods and crouches down to her level. “This is the best day ever!” She declares whilst keeping her arms around Bruce’s neck.

Whilst the team was distracting the kids Bucky took your hand and led you both to his room. “I need to tell you something, and maybe ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“When I was in Wakanda Shuri promised me that if I ever wanted to go back I was welcome, and that I could live there, work there, have a life there and… and doll I want to retire, I’m done with this life, I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“Do it.” You said after a few minutes of silence, the hopeful look in his eyes hurt your heart, and even though it meant that what ever you two were was now at an end and you would have to explain to the kids that they wouldn’t see him or Alpine again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him not to go.

“What?”

“Retire, move to Wakanda and have an amazing life there.” You smiled softly at him. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, you deserve to be free Bucky.”

“B-But that’s the thing Y/n, I have you and the kids and I don’t want to leave you three behind.”

“You can always visit or we could visit you?”

Moving closer to you, taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No doll, I don’t think you understand. I’m in love with you and I love your kids like they’re my own and I’m happier than I have ever been since meeting you three, I want to ask if you will move with me? If-if not I can stay here with you, I don’t want to lose my family”

For the past year Bucky lived happily in Wakanda, true to her word Shuri welcomed him with open arms and even showed him a farm house that she got built just for him - right where his hut use to be. He had his own farm, his own sanctuary and he loved every single part of it.

Bucky would admit that he had missed New York, especially Steve and the little life he had for himself there but he knew he made the right decision by walking away from it all.

As he was walking towards his home some of the local children were playing with a football, all stopping their game to run over to him, all wanting a hug from the White Wolf as they still called him.

“Daddy!”

“Ah, there’s my little girl! How are you princess?”

“I’m okay, are we going home?”

“You can stay out and play for a little bit? I don’t think momma will be mad.”

“No, I want to go home now.” Watching as she waves goodbye to her friends, she lifts her arms out for him to pick her up.

“You are so heavy now.”

“No I’m not!” She giggles.

Walking through the gate and down the pathway Bucky opens the door, helping his little girl take her shoes off as well as his own, Alpine trots over to them giving them a welcome home meow.

“Momma we’re home!”

They both stand there hearing footsteps come closer to them. “Did you have fun Cory?”

“I did momma, where’s Jaspy?”

“He’s in the living room baby. Hey handsome.”

“Hi beautiful.”

When Bucky asked if you would move to Wakanda with him, you was skeptical, it’s not that you didn’t want to go but you had two children to think about. You asked Cora about it and she seemed happy about moving to a new place, Tony let Bucky take a jet for the four of you to fly out to see how the kids took to the place.

Cora’s jaw dropped wide open when she met Shuri. “A-A real princess!” She stuttered, you thought she was going to collapse the second Shuri opened her arms for the six year old to hug her. Cora instantly made friends with some of the children she met, and when she met the farm animals it was that moment she was sold on moving there.

Jasper seemed happy too, he was fascinated by the goats and wanted to touch each and every one of them. Bucky told you that Alpine now had competition.

After a few days in the beautiful land you came back to New York, the next day you sat the kids down and asked them if they wanted to stay - both shaking their heads- or go to Wakanda - both of them screaming ‘yes’. A week later both yours and Bucky’s apartments were empty and ready for new people to call the places home.

“How are my babies doing?”

“Jasper and Alpine decided to wreck the play room.” You both chuckled. “And this little one has been very active today.” Bucky’s hands went straight to your growing bump, his eyes lighting up at feeling his third child move around in the love of his life’s stomach.

Five months ago you found out you were pregnant, and whilst you was happy you couldn’t help but feel nervous about Bucky’s behaviour changing towards Cora and Jasper, when you told him he burst out crying and kept saying that he was going to be a dad again, he kissed you and your stomach. It wasn’t just you that was scared but Cora was as well, Bucky promised that he would love all his children equally, later that night he promised you that nothing would change and that he is still Cora and Jaspers dad regardless.

“I love you and I love our perfect family.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arsenal II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The last match against Arsenal

Pernille doesn't like to see you sad.

It goes against her very core as your mother.

When you were a baby, she used to pick you up every time you cried. As a toddler, she let you into the Big Bed every time you whined. Now, as a child, she can't let you out of her sight when you grow morose.

It was expected though, for today to effect you like this.

It was the last match Chelsea would have against Arsenal before you all packed up your lives and moved back to Germany.

Arsenal is your favourite English team, no matter how many times Magda tried to bribe you into choosing Chelsea. You adore the players and the club and, while Pernille knows you want her and Magda to win things, you wouldn't be too sad if the title was awarded to Arsenal out of nowhere.

You've woken up sad. You've eaten your breakfast sad. You've spent the whole day sad no matter how many times Magda and Pernille have tried to cheer you up.

You were a little sniffly in the car and Magda even let you wear your Arsenal shirt even though you'd be sitting on the Chelsea bench.

"There she is! Little Gunner in the making!"

You look up at the familiar voice of Leah.

You didn't even realise the warm ups had started.

"When are you coming to play for us, huh?"

You shrug.

You like Leah, you really do. She's tall and she's funny and sometimes she clashes with Momma on the pitch and that's kind of cool to watch. You want to be happy to see her but she's just a reminder that you're leaving.

You don't know why you have such weird feelings about leaving.

You like England but you like Germany too. You like living in England but you liked living in Germany too. England and Germany. Germany and England.

You're sure that you'll enjoy living in Germany again but right now, all you can think about is the fact that you don't really want to leave.

"What's the face for? Not happy to see us?" Beth has joined Leah now and you look up at both of them, swinging your feet.

You shrug again.

You don't know how you feel about any of this.

Your emotions flip flop around quicker than you can understand them as you sit on the bench in a weird form of limbo as everything happens around you.

You don't want to leave London but you do. You want to go and live in Germany again but you don't.

Everything is so confusing and your tummy swirls around with everything that you're keeping buried deep down.

"She's having a bit of a hard day," Magda says, rubbing your shoulder gently.

You turn into her body, burying your face into her shirt as if she could shield you away from all the change going on around you.

Morsa is big and strong. She'll be able to protect you.

Momma's there as well because you can feel her pick you up and place you on her hip. You hide yourself away in her neck and she rubs your back.

"We..er...Can we borrow her after the match?" Leah asks, jerking her thumb back towards the tunnel," We've got some stuff for her."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it, Princesse?"

You don't respond, just sitting mute on the bench.

You don't remember much of the match. You wouldn't be able to tell anyone who won. You just sit on the bench with your head down in an Arsenal shirt, getting the sinking feeling that it would be a long time until you would be back to see them play.

(One day, you'll win a league title in a sold out Emirates Stadium with the team).

But right now, all you can think about is that you're leaving. It's all you can think about even as Morsa and Momma take your hands and guide you to the Arsenal locker room.

You're numb to most things as you're helped up into somebody's cubby. You start paying attention again when Viv kneels in front of you.

Viv is cool. She's one of the best strikers in the world and you've let a lot of people know that. She's quiet as well. She's not as loud as Beth or Katie but you don't think she needs to be.

People watch Viv because she's great, because she's the best. People look at Viv and can't help but listen to what she has to say.

"We'll miss you on the Chelsea bench celebrating for us," She says to you and you sniffle.

"Miss you guys too," You manage to get out as tears dip down your face.

You blink away your blurry vision as Viv holds her shirt out for you.

"You keep this safe for me, alright?" She says.

"I don't have a shirt to give you."

"Don't worry about it. I want you to have this one."

(One day, when you're older, you'll play against Chelsea at a sold out Emirates and win. One day, you'll give Viv your own shirt.)

"I don't want to leave anymore." You look past the Arsenal girls to look at Momma and Morsa standing by the door. "Why can't we stay here? I don't want to go to Bayern!"

You keep looking at them but Viv touches your knee gently. "I used to play at Bayern, you know."

"Really?"

"Yep. Before I came to Arsenal. It's not all bad. You speak German, right?"

You nod.

"I didn't speak German when I moved so I struggled a bit. You'll have to help out Magda when you get there."

"I can do that."

"I'm sure you'll learn a lot in Germany so when you're older you can come back here and show it all off."

You nod.

Viv grins. "Good. Now, I think everyone wanted a group picture before you go off. You up for that?"

The picture gets buried somewhere in your picture album at home but you never forget about it, even after you leave Arsenal again.

[mysticfics0]

How he’d take you pt.2!!!

Synopsis: Life after Yandere Nanami takes you <333

Warnings:Manipulation, starving, breeding kink, sex, size difference.

MINORS DNI!!!

When Nanami first took you he knew you’d be scared for awhile but it’s been nearly five months! And he’s starting to feel needy :( (Poor baby you don’t know how much this hurts him!)

The day before taking you he’d stalked up on everything you like! (The healthier versions obviously tho!!! Gotta keep his most precious angel healthy!)

But you’d barely touched anything he got and it was going bad so he’d rebought stuff many times now! :(( (Secretly he’d been eating some of it too he needs to like what you like!)

Until one day he got fed up. If you weren’t going to eat then he’d take away your food. He left a note on the fridge saying he’d be gone for a few days. 

So eventually you crawled out looking for something to eat. But when you checked the fridge…mustard, ketchup and spinach??? And the mini fridge was empty so you checked the pantry. Sprinkles?!!! Where was all the food?! 

For the first two days you’d managed to convince yourself he was just kidding around and would send food or come home early. But by the third day you realized something. He wasn’t coming back for five days. Just like he said. 

So you’d pull out your little flip phone (He’d especially gifted it to you with the only capabilities being offline games along with texting and calling him!!!)

“Answer…answer…please answer Nanami!” You scream whispered to yourself until he finally picked up. “Yes angel?” Usually he’d be asking if you were okay but he was acting so nonchalant about everything! 

“When will you be home?” You asked carefully. “Just two more days after today why?” He’d ask as if this wasn’t his plan all along. “P-please come home! P-please I-i miss you! I-I just please come home! I-I’m hungry please! I’m sorry! I’ll listen from now on!” 

Oh the smirk on his face was perfect. His plan had worked perfectly. “Promise? You’ll behave?” He asked “Promise! P-please I’ll do whatever you want!” You managed to get out. 

“I’ll be home soon Angel” he’d then hang up and the usual time he would come home from work he came home, stalking up the food fridge, pantry and mini fridge. Cooking dinner you gladly ate. And best of all. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

Over the next couple days you’d eat normally, wear what he wanted, did what he wanted until he finally felt he had you ready. 

That night he decided was movie night. He’d sit you on his lap and as the opening credits played he’d slip his whole lengthy cock into you! <333

Don’t worry it would only sting a little but the stretch would be so delicious! After all you were just so wet from him playing with your clit as he chose the movie! 

He’d rock back and forth, slide you up and down until the movie was eventually long forgotten and he had you pinned below him knees pushed up to shoulders in the meanest mating press! (Oh how he would breed you!)

“M-more Nanami!” You’d whimper out “Ken.” He’d say firmly “Call me Ken, a cute nick name right angel?” Oh he was so excited and it was hard not to just blow a fat load into your womb just from when you first rode him! “Y-yes Ken!” 

“You want my load angel?” He’d say, oh this was going perfectly “Want me to breed you? Turn you into a Momma? Belly all swollen with my kiddos?” He’d say sweetly, this was his dream scenario

“Y-yes! Please Ken! Breed me! Turn me into your mommy!” Oh and that’s all it took for him to bust, thick ropes of cum right into your womb. You’d for sure end up pregnant, he pulled out watching his load leak out of you. “That’s right. You’re mine, my momma.” 

Hope this was what you guys were hoping for pt 2!!! 

[netherfeildren]

FABLE OF THE DOG : 2. Sugar, Not so Sweet

Series Masterlist; Chapter: 1,

Pairing: Joel Miller x FMC

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Cowboy/Heiress AU; Slowburn(ish); Original Characters; Alcohol Use; Allusions to Attempted Suicide; Discussions of Grief; Daddy Issues; Parental Neglect; Angst and Fluff; Older Man/Younger Woman; Jealousy; Possessive Behavior; Brat Taming; Extremely Bossy Old Man; Past Teenage Crush; Yearning and Longing Galore; A Home is a Place but ALSO a Person!; Found Family

A/N: This is a deeply, deeply unserious chapter, and I make no apologies—I was taken away by whimsy!!!!

Apologies however, for the French people slander, I went on a truly heinous date with a oui oui baguette loser last month. I’m still working through my anger.

Word Count: 13.4K

Read on AO3

2. Sugar, Not so Sweet

They appear at the break of dawn, the young man and the boy. 

“How many heads’ve you got total?” 

Joel appraises him, the fresh-faced look, a boy just crossed over into the cusp of manhood—though he’s large and strong and earnest in the eyes. He’d be a good hire, if not for—

He glances over at the young boy sitting on the bunk’s couch, snickering quietly with Ellie as his brother tries to barter a place for the two of them. 

“Near to thirty large about now. We’re fixin’ to breed, but we’re pushin’ our limitations.”

“So you need hands,” he says eagerly. 

“We do,” Joel returns slowly, chewing on the mint he’d plucked from out front. His stomach is in knots, has been since—days and days and days ago, last night, and so much worse now. There’s a sick heat settled deep that he doesn’t know how he’ll scourge out and quick. 

“Listen, I know it’s unconventional, but—”

“Where’s his parents?” He tips his chin at the boy, and Ellie peers slyly over her shoulder at him. He’ll get hell for this later, he knows, she knows. 

“Our momma’s down south—by way of Odessa. She cowboys during the summer too, and—”

Joel sits up in his seat. “Texas?”

“Come on, Texas,” Tommy slinks behind him, sneaking an arm over his shoulder to thump Joel roughly on the chest. “Just say yes.” He lets out a gruff sound masking a cough, fucking Tommy, and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ellie rise from the sofa and leave the bunk quietly with a parting pat on the boy's head. 

“You’re from Texas, too?” The young man asks brightly, that look of hope in his eyes that Joel’s about to quash. 

“We’re from Austin,” Tommy says from the coffee pot, his mustache spreading wide over a shit-eating grin. “Southerners way up here, we gotta stay united amongst all these Yanks’,” his brother puts on the drawl heavy, and Joel rolls his eyes. Clown. 

“Listen, Henry,” he says, trying to turn the conversation back to business. He looks at the boy again, the back of the small head bent and silent and something that could, perhaps, be thought of as guilt pulses through him, but to be honest, there’s so much of that moving about Joel’s system right about now, that it’s just one more drop of poison filling his cup. It doesn’t matter. He needs to do what’s right.

For who? He can’t very well tell yet.  

“I’m sure you’re a hard worker, son, and I’d not hesitate to give you a place were we in different circumstances, but I just don’t see how this would work—”

Henry leans forward in his chair too, ready to plead his case, fight for his brother and the generously paying jobs the Kelly’s are famous for. There’s something about the boy newly turned man that reminds Joel of himself. Perhaps during that young and fragile youth of his twenties, when he’d been alone with a newborn baby, trying to figure out the whole world and himself. 

“I know it’s unconventional, but he’s a good kid. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, and it’d only be for the summer, sir. We head back down for the start of the school year. It’s difficult, but it’s harder for my momma to get work with a kid than it is for me.” He trips over his words with the speed at which he’s spitting them at Joel, trying to convince him, and he knows that the fair thing would be to take them in. To give this man a chance the way Joel had been given one so many years ago, the mercy of safe harbor. But he’s got a finite amount of goodness in him now, he’s got to save it all for only one person. There’s none left for anyone else. And Joel doesn't want trouble, he’s got enough of that around here right about now. “He’s got his books and his summer worksheets, and he knows how to manage on his own while I work. I swear, he won’t be in any sort of way. You can—”

And then, amidst the young strangers' rambling plea, Joel's heart falls through his stomach. Here comes that trouble anyways. 

“What’s going on here?” In that soft, lovely voice that haunted his dreams last night. 

All the cowboys rise from their seats at the sound of your presence. 

From over your shoulder, Joel sees Ellie’s face twisted in a grimace at him, the flash of her middle finger and then her tongue. 

“Goddamnit, Ellie,” he growls low. 

You look exhausted, eyes red rimmed and swollen—as if you’d been crying all night, and Joel’s tongue is a swollen, poisoned thing in his mouth—a husk of guilt is all he is. He swallows convulsively, trying to find his words, trying to not scream at the thought of being what’s made you cry, trying not to look down the length of you and failing. Silky sleep shorts end way too high up on the long length of those too pretty thighs, an oversized pullover with Yale emblazoned across the front, a little hole at the neck and a large dark stain marr the front of it. You’ve got on a too big robe, dark and plaid, draped over your shoulders with your hair all a mess. He can see Ellie’s trying to pull it into some semblance of a braid behind your back discreetly while you stare at him with those eyes that, and he’s being damn honest now, fucking terrify him. Those puffy, ridiculous tan boots women wear, the impractical ones that become a sogging mess in the snow or wet despite the fact he understands they’re supposed to be worn in winter, are on your feet, two mismatched socks peek out above the tops. 

He’s pretty sure one of them has bombs with a capital ‘F’ in the tiny centers printed over it. The other, some sort of Easter bunny carrot print. Absolutely ridiculous, and he can’t help it, he notices it all. 

And worst of all, in your grip is that World’s Best Dad mug you’d sent the old fucker for Christmas several years ago, a little holiday fuck you from his best daughter. It’d been one of the years he hadn’t let you come home for the winter break, forced you to spend the holiday alone at that boarding school of yours. The whole ranch had known and whispered about it, and he’d felt embarrassed and offended on your behalf, that they’d all gossiped about the girl you were behind your back when they should’ve respected you for the woman you’d become one day, the one that’d eventually pay all of their earnings. 

And the jackass had the audacity to use the mug all the time afterwards. Joel was pretty sure it’d been his favorite. 

“We were just wrapping up,” Joel says, clearing his throat, finally finding his voice. It’s almost physically painful to look at you directly in the eyes, and the heat of shame and regret claws its way up his throat at the hollow look he sees there. You’re so angry at him, and he deserves it. 

“This is the new Kelly,” Ellie tells Henry, cutting him off, pressing you forward with her hands wrapped around your shoulders. Your shorts are way too short to be in here right now, and Joel feels something else, even hotter than shame, stirring inside him. “If you want work here, this is who you need to talk to. The big boss.”

“Miss Kelly,” Henry says reverently, pulling his cap off to press against his chest. “It’s a mighty fine honor gettin’ to meet you. I was just telling your foreman here,” he motions the cap towards Joel, and he feels like a bear who’s about to rip it out of his grip and stuff it down his throat. Fucking Ellie going and snitching on him. “How me and my brother Henry travel for the summer. I’ve got letters here, I’ve worked at the King before, and have a number your man can call if he needs more references. I’ve got lots of experience and—”

“What will you do with him?” Your gaze is on the little boy, has been the entire time. Joel steps forward and over the back of the couch he sees the kid, Sam, has a comic book in his lap he’s been reading this whole time, while adults who should have no bearing on his life decide what will and will not be for him. “While you work—”

Joel looks back at you, and he knows already what it’ll be. 

Henry’s smile is wide and gleaming, putting on the charm. What he doesn’t see, what Joel does, is that bleak sadness in your gaze that he’d put there himself last night. He needs to speak with you, to explain, to make it right between the two of you. 

“He’s good at entertaining himself. I promise he won’t be in the way or nothin’. He’s got books and summer work, and he’s learning to play the guitar. He won’t be in the way,” Henry says again. 

“What about school?”

“We only travel during the summer. We’re back in Texas for the school year.” And at that, you finally look back at Joel, and his heart shoots from his belly to his throat, ready to be spit up at your feet. 

You watch him for a long searing moment, and there's such sadness there. He doesn’t know what would have been better, what would have been the correct recourse, how to make that look go away. To give you what you want? To do what he thinks is right or what should be right? He’d never thought, never considered anything like this. It’s all too much too fast, and he feels suddenly lost and childlike in the face of you and all you stand for. 

“They stay,” you say only for Joel. 

Henry lets out a whoop of victory, rushing forward to thank you profusely, but Jesse, who’s standing by the door, blocks his rush forward with a hand to his chest before he can get too close to the new boss. You’re for protecting now, above all else, it’s the unspoken word they all suddenly understand keenly. 

You stare solemnly at Joel for only a second longer, those sleep sloped doe eyes, before you’re turning without another word. 

-

“He never did a very good job of hiding the way he treated you, sweetheart. I couldn’t ever respect a man like that.” 

The cricket song is a symphony of sound around the two of you, and you’re suspended for a second, he sees it come on—a rose hued haze, and then blink-of-an-eye donning a look that spells nothing but disaster. He’s thrown off course by it for a single second, that girl fantasy glow, before you’re launching yourself at him, and then it’s nothing but a soft wet mouth, smoked fruit and fired oak, the slick of your tongue against his bottom lip as you kiss him.

You’re kissing him. 

He’s a frozen solid husk, eyes wide open as he stares down at the look on your face—something like agony. The tiny frown between your eyebrows, concentration, and a single diamond tear caught in the web of your lashes, and he can’t help but notice the soft press of your breasts against his chest, you’re not wearing a bra, before he’s shoving you back by the shoulders, scrambling to get as far away from you as quickly as he can.

His back hits the railing before he can get far enough. “What the fuck are you doing?” He spits, but can’t help but lick his tongue along his bottom lip, tasting where you’ve just been. 

His stomach is suddenly hot.

You swallow convulsively, bleary eyed look turning to hurt, pressing your palm to your belly, twisting your fingers in the fabric of your sweater there. “I don’t— I didn’t—” Your eyelashes flutter shut, closing the hurt, confused look away from him for one blessed second. You press your other palm to your forehead, gripping yourself as if you’re trying to hold your very skin together. 

What do you think you’re doing? He enunciates each word like the lash of a whip, and then licks his lips again to soften those same blows for himself. 

Something is about to go inexplicably wrong here. Something already has. A tragedy worse than the death of a father

“I just thought that—” You blink your eyes open and they’re wet, and he’s about to bark at you to not fucking cry or he’ll lose it completely, but he swallows it or loses the thought to madness. He feels incomprehensibly insane, inconceivably triggered. 

This is like nothing he’d ever imagined, and it tilts him on his axis, skews his vision, headlights blinding you in a dead-on collision. 

What are you doing—thinking?

“I— I watched you grow up. I watched you—” You take an anxious step towards him, some word on your lips he can’t even make out because his hearing has gone out, and now he’s all of a sudden deaf in both ears instead of just one. He hardens his voice further. He makes sure you understand. “This is fucking wrong, and you need to get away from me right now,” reversing his movements, taking a threatening step forward, stomping his heavy boot against the floorboards beneath so that you’re jumping, skittering backwards like a frightened little rabbit. 

And Joel, the beast, crushing her beneath his foot. 

You wrap both of your hands around the delicate column of your throat; he imagines you’re holding in your hurt sounds, and it makes him even angrier. 

“Listen to me—” he starts again. 

But you cut him off, shaking your head, the confused sleep-look being blinked away so that now it’s spitting fire that is awake and angry in your gaze. “But you didn’t,” you say. “You barely know me. We’re almost strangers.” A scoff, and then switching again to soft, to girl-like, to hurt: “And I’m all grown up now, Joel.”

“I don’t know what you reckon is happenin’ here between us. Or what you think— what you—” He looks away, can’t bear the sight of it, you, fuck, he spits, again, fuck. “If I gave you the wrong impression, I’m sorry, but—”

Then in a broken little voice grasping for straws, “But we were born on the same day,” and you say it like a question. Like it should mean more. Like, and he realizes it now, like it means the world. 

He turns back to look at you, and he feels full of everything but mercy—too much regret. “And what? What do you think that means? That we’re connected—meant to be?” His voice sounds full of cruelty. “Don’t be delusional. It’s also the day my daughter died. D’you know that?”

A blink. “What?”

“She died on my thirty-fourth birthday.” 

Again. “But… Wh—at?” Broken up word, and your chin does a little wobbling dance, jutting this way and that, and you have a dimple in your cheek that comes out when you’re happy, but also when you’re sad. When you’re about to cry. He sees it now, and starkly. 

He’s ruining something sacred. 

Joel steels himself. “Whatever it is you’ve made up in your mind about us, it’s a fantasy. Something not real that you need to let go of. Are you hearin’ me?”

“I— I think…” You won’t stop blinking, your hands look like they’re about to strangle you, and he steps forward as if to stop you or save you from yourself. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

But instead of saving, “Why would I? Why would I ever tell you that?” He does not want to hurt you, and yet he cannot help it, and Joel wonders if this is how your father felt every time he failed you—like a lesser man. “Wasn’t for you to know—it doesn’t mean the same thing to us.” That day. He makes himself clear: “Whatever child’s fantasy you’re still holding onto, you need to let it go.” 

-

He rushes out of the bunk after you, a growled, you little shit, at Ellie as he passes her. 

“Man, what’d you fuckin’ do?” She calls after him in that tone that tells him that of course she knows what’s happened. You two’ve never been able to keep a single thing from each other. Asshole! She shouts at his back as he catches up to your slowly retreating form. Your movements are sluggish, exhausted. 

He calls your name and tries to moderate his tone from being as aggressive as he feels right now. “We gotta talk.” He follows after you, hot on your heels and then jumping back like a scared mut when you spin around on your ridiculous boot to face him. 

“Speak.” It’s a high-handed tone, that one. One that says he’s the grunt here, and you the queen, that you’d both forgotten it last night, but the battlelines are clearly drawn now. There’ll be no more forgetting. 

And it’s all his fault. 

“You can’t—” His heart thumps and thumps and thumps like a pitiful thing. “You can’t undermine me in front of the boys like that. There’s a reason I was saying no.”

“Which is?”

“That the kid’ll be in the way.”

And you flinch and Joel prays for a gun to the back of the skull. Fucking Christ, but this is difficult.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he gruffs. “You know what I mean. This is hard work we do here. I don’t want the kid gettin’ hurt, I don’t want to be responsible for that. What goes on here is on me. The people who get hurt, it’s all on me, and I take that responsibility damn serious.”

You tilt your head at him in that queer, inspecting way of yours. The one he’d watched you pull like a weapon against your father so many times. He finds he hates it now, detests it, being wielded against himself. You ignore his words, “What was your arrangement here—with him? How did this work with the ranch?”

There has been that thought always, and obviously, of you as something higher, that symbol of the family or the safe haven this place has been for Joel. The not-respect he had for your father, but surely the understanding—you've always been all wrapped up in that. He's at times felt grateful for your existence, perhaps, in ways. That something as good, as better, as you could exist in the same world Joel exists in. Perhaps he’d admired you in ways, even as a young girl, for your goodness, your sincerity. But he finds now, at this look of disdain you’re wearing against him, that he hates the feeling of being less than you, of not being good enough to even stand in your presence. 

He’s done wrong, marred it all in ugliness. He’s put himself in this position somehow, by hurting you, by confusing you, by wanting—

“I do what I need to, what the ranch needs. Whatever decision I need to make, I call it and it’s on me. Monthly reports to him and that was it. He understood that what happens out here is different to what can be told and sometimes you can’t plan for certain shit. He focused on the business, I focus on the ranch.”

By wanting what?

Bringing the mug to your lips, you take a long sip, humming. It’s all a taunt. Joel realizes, suddenly, and with painful clarity, that this has all been a grave miscalculation on his part.

As uncomfortable as it is for even him to admit, you are, and undeservedly, a person used to not being wanted, used to rejection. Joel understands this with the quick fire blink of an eye. And he has, in his shock, or— or… he doesn't know—instantaneous awakening—unintentionally alienated you, made an enemy. 

I see, you murmur quietly coupled with a bitter cough of laughter that doesn’t sound anything like the sweet sound he’s used to hearing from you. Yes, a very bad mistake has been made indeed. “Well, you’re practically king here, aren’t you then? Quite the partnership the two of you had.” You smile wide, all bright teeth. 

The coffee sloshes in the mug held in your unsteady hand, and he worries there’s something stronger in there too. 

“Not at all. I’m just good at what I do.” He shoves fisted hands into his pockets, trying to keep patient. Trying not to throttle you, check your drink for himself. 

“And is this how you’d like to continue going forward? I mind my own business, and you do as you please?”

He shakes his head slow, grinds the pulverized mint between his molars, “I want whatever you think’s best. You’re the Kelly now, after all.” You get a look on your face like you don’t like the sound of that at all, and he turns to spit the greens between his teeth, coughing roughly. 

“Yeah, I’m sure of that,” you say with teeth bared, and then whipping your head away from him as if you can’t bear the sight of him a second longer. The coffee sloshes the other way, splashing against your wrist. He hopes it’s not burning you. “You know, you’ve got some fucking nerve, Joel. You—” 

The robe—all of a sudden, saturated by the dark liquid, it grabs his attention. It’s in a plaid print, expensive looking, like something you’d see an older man wearing. A man’s robe? He cocks his head, “Whose robe is that?” Cutting your tirade short. 

What? You spit, all sass, his stomach burns, turning to look back at him as if he’s gone idiotic, grown a second head.  He feels a little bit like he’s in the process of doing so—wracked with growing pains. “It’s my ex-boyfriend’s. Can you focus, please? I’m trying to have a fight with you right now.” And you scrunch your nose too adorably for him to find anything besides endearing. Certainly not intimidating. 

He grunts, displeased. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it—”

“Then keep it to yourself.” You turn, continuing on your way up to the house, coffee flies with your spin, boyfriend’s robe whipping out in your wake as he follows like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. 

A little desperately, like a dog, too. A begging for scraps imitation game he hadn’t intended to play but feels obligated to now, and by his own doing. 

“But I want to say—about last night…”

You turn on your heel out of nowhere again, and he stumbles to not rush head first into you, to not touch you. 

The look on your face is all heartbreak. “Do you remember—when I was away at school—and I fell off the horse? When I came home with that broken arm and couldn’t get back on and you helped me? Do you remember that, Joel? How you reminded me how I was supposed to do it—”

He coughs, uncomfortable, shifting like that same scared dog. “You remember these things different than I do.” The words feel cowardly spilling from his tongue, but he should be honest. Shouldn’t he?

This is what he should be doing, isn’t it?

“I remember that you were kind. That you cared. That’s what I remember.” Your eyes are glossed again, and now it’s Joel that has to look away. 

-

“I didn’t care. It was my job to serve your father. To do as he’d want me to. It was a responsibility.”

It’s happening again. A tale like any other you’ve too often heard. You know he’s not lying, and yet everything he says feels precariously close to it. 

“Why are you being like this?” And you ask it very practically, like you really want to know, like you’ve asked the same sort of question to the same sort of figure before, and so now you’re extremely well practiced, an expert even. 

“You remember these things differently. Wrong—That’s not how I meant any of it—whatever you’re thinkin’. It was just a kindness.”

“No, but I— but you…” That’s the point, you want to say, a kindness, but the words stick. You look away again, colored in shame, can’t bear the sight of him. “Maybe you’re right,” you whisper with that very remembered kindness of your lonely childhood thrown back in your face now. “Maybe I do.”

“Listen to me—I’d like for things between us to be— I’m not… I don’t now what to fuckin’ say to you.”

“Honey—” Dina calls from the porch, your father’s assistant, now yours by inheritance, you suppose. “We gotta go soon—gotta get you ready.”

“I have things to do with Dina. I don’t have time for you—for this. Do what you want, run it how you like,” the ranch, “But the kid stays. That’s final.”

You won’t look at him again, you decide. You’ll learn to want a new thing. You’ll learn to love a new thing. 

If you had it in you, you’d laugh in his face. 

Have you been in love with him? Probably not in any way that could’ve been called mature, it was the girl-fantasy of a neglected child latching on to a man who’d always seemed nothing but steady and kind.

So you’ll learn to grow up now, no choice left in the matter, let the fantasy go.  

-

Despite your desire for debauchery and the three days of bad behavior you’d promised yourself, you’ve got shit to do. 

An hour after your ridiculous non-conversation with the ridiculous man, you and Dina are stepping back  out into the summer sunshine when your phone rings with a call from another ridiculous man for what promises to surely be another even more ridiculous conversation. 

Jacopo.

You’d met through the friend of a friend at the party of someone or another in Monaco. Come from an Italian mother and a French father, you should’ve known he was going to be an arrogant asshole from the get go, but he’d been beautiful and momentarily distracting—things you knew you didn’t really want but told yourself would suffice. Really, all he was, was boring, the same as everyone else, wanting something from you without having to truly return anything in full. 

Jacopo the jockey—sounds like a goddamn cartoon. 

You liked to call him Jack, like he were the same sort of plebeian he saw all Americans as, and which he absolutely loathed with the sort of passion only an uppity French man could possess. 

In the distance, you can see Joel, Frank and Bill propped up against the corral watching as Jesse runs Ellie atop a gorgeous chestnut Quarter. Sometimes she likes to compete, when she can get Joel to stop complaining about it for a second. 

Dina makes her way towards them, “Tell them we’ll take the Ghibli,” you call after her to which she throws a thumbs up. At the sound of your voice he peers over his shoulder, finding your eyes immediately, catching there—fish on a burning hook. And then turns full around, leaning back to rest his elbows on the iron grate as you take French boys call, settling in to watch you. 

“Hi, Jack, sweetie. How’s it hangin’?”

“I do not know what this means.”

Bore. “What do you want, Jacopo? I’m busy.”

“My love, we must speak. I have heard of your father. You should have call me, I will come to be with you now. Tell me where you are.”

“Why the hell would I want you to come be with me? We broke up. Remember?”

Joel watches you as the French idiot prattles on about how he loves you and how you need him and how the two of you belong together, blah blah. Odious man, you don’t know how you ever let him inside of you. 

Across the lawn, he isn’t looking away, and his gaze burns where it touches. You feel—humiliated, hurt, rejected, so angry it’s a physical ache. 

Not surprised. 

Perhaps in some way, his rejection was what you’d wanted, had been looking for. Perhaps, it was your subconscious search for the easy way out. Because, and really, what else had you thought would happen when you’d thrown yourself at him half drunk? That he’d suddenly stop seeing you as the child he’d known you for always, take you as a woman, want you, fuck you right there on your newly dead father’s front deck?

Ridiculous.

You can’t even think about the birthday—about her. It’s a snipped lifeline, a crushed tether. 

“Cherie, I must tell you I am feeling very neglected now by you. You don’t call. You do not love me no longer, or what is the problem?” More nonsense and really, this fuckin’ guy needs a boot in his ass pronto. 

And the one still watching you—something even worse. He’s got his mangy brown cowboy hat pulled low over his brow, the one for the ranch, not the lovely dark one for escorting orphans to the funerals of dead fathers, and his jaw works the mint leaves you know he’s got between his teeth, slow and steady. You should hiss at him. Instead, your tummy smolders with heat and butterflies.

 Stop looking at me, you horrible man, you want to shout. 

Humming and hawing at the annoying voice coming through the phone, you smooth your palm over the silk of your dress. You’d wanted to look nice today, your first Kelly meeting. You wanted to look better than you feel, which is like shit, quite frankly. 

There are tiny green paisleys patterned over the deep blue of the dress, a shock of dark red maroon for the cashmere knit of the cardigan tied over your shoulders, and a little silken kerchief wrapped around your throat, something from your mother’s things you’d gone through last night after Joel had ordered you to bed with your tail tucked between your legs and tears in your throat. 

Twenty four years later, and your father still had all her things preserved in their bedroom as if she’d only stepped out for the afternoon. A veritable mausoleum right there in your house-not-home. 

You’d never even stood a chance. 

-

He watches you begin to pace across the deck, but the look on your face tells him you aren’t quite listening to whatever it is the person on the phone’s saying to you. 

The gold and silver bangles that slide around your fine boned wrists jingle a song of temptation. Siren song, bird song, death march, something he’d follow with blind eyes, recognize deaf. And heavy gold and jeweled rings along your fingers that shine almost as bright as the spilled silk of your hair. Swathed in shades of jewel, you’re all woman, done up and ready to go out and devastate. 

He doesn’t know how any man could ever look at you and not want you. 

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be the same from here on out. 

“Who’s she talkin’ to?” He asks Dina, tipping his chin over at you. He can hear you raising your voice, something about you fucking French moron, and he doesn’t like the hunch he’s got about who it is.

“Boyfriend,” Dina says while she watches Ellie work the horse with hearts in her eyes. 

“Thought he was an ex.”

She peers up at him suspiciously at that, a queer little smile tipping the corners of her mouth upwards. “Well maybe now that he knows how much she’s worth he’ll be coming back, huh?”

Joel swears all these fuckin’ women are conspiring against him, trying to send him to an early grave. “He steps foot on this ranch, and I’ll shoot him in the goddamn ass.”

She laughs, throwing her head back which inevitably draws Ellie’s attention. “You are literally so dramatic.”

“What’s he bein’ dramatic about now?” Ellie calls from behind, trotting up to the corral edge. 

“Ohhh, nothin’. Just Joel being Joel. Right, old man?” Dina bumps her hip against his and he grunts, refusing to be goaded. He’s not being dramatic, it’s his responsibility to take care of you now, to watch over you. 

That’s all.

“I’m never dramatic,” he tells them very seriously. 

On the porch, the spat reaches a crescendo and they all turn to watch the show. 

Why don’t you shove the whole Eiffel Tower up your ass, you fucking dipshit. And don’t you ever call me again!

“Little girl’s got a mouth on her,” Bill murmurs. 

Ellie lets out a long whistle. Deserved, Dina adds. On the porch, you let out a strangled little screech, stomping the high heel of your boot as if you’ve got half a mind to throw a fit. 

Joel feels hypnotized, speared through the gut.

He wants to know what the ex-boyfriend said. What his name is. Where he’s from and who he is and what he does and how he is and every single thing about him and how it was between the two of you. 

He is suddenly desperate to know everything there is to know about you in a way that makes his throat feel swollen with guilt. In a way he didn’t ever think he’d want from you. 

All the things you keep close, all the small intimacies that make you this person you are now, that’s what he wants. 

You stomp down the steps, making your way towards them, eyes directly on his, and you’re too fucking beautiful for his own good, watching you feels like a sin. 

Makes him feel in danger, like prey. 

“All men should die,” you yell over. 

See. 

“I agree,” Dina says cheerfully.

“You know you can have a baby with the junk in your bones from another woman now,” Ellie adds helpfully.

“The junk in your bones?” Joel says. 

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Yeah, like really we don’t even need you for shit anymore.”

“They should all be put in a hole in the ground in the middle of Nebraska and only be let out when a girl wants to bone.”

“To bone—Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ellie.”

“I love that idea,” you say, finally coming to stand right before Joel. He swallows hard, stays silent—feels like the cat’s finally caught his tongue. 

“Why Nebraska?” Franks asks, puzzled.

He’s got to stop looking at you, he’s got to get away from the sight of your eyes, feels like the colors of you seem to pulse brighter, and he feels it all like a touch against his skin. He turns to look at Ellie over his shoulder and with a huge, shit-eating grin she says, “Cause who the fuck knows where fuckin’ Nebraska is, huh?” Her eyes flash to you and then quickly back to Joel, winking, cheeky, knowing. He feels the noose tighten.

They’re definitely conspiring against him. 

The three of you cackle—at his expense. 

“Where’re you two headed?” Bill asks with a frown when the three little hyenas settle. 

“She’s got a meeting in Jackson,” Dina tells him. “First part’ll be quick—she’s just gotta kick some pushy jackass to the curb and tell him we’re not leasing mineral rights to him no matter how hard he begs or how much money he throws at us. Then…” she trails off, throwing you a worried glance, but your eyes are on the far off mountains now, and Joel watches a shaky swallow pass through your throat.

“Then we’ve got the will reading,” you say. 

A sharp ache starts up behind Joel’s left eye, all the easygoing laughter of a few moments ago sucked away with a few words and a single reminder. That you’re not the girl you used to be, laughing and playing with Ellie, that your father is dead, that you have a world of responsibility to face now. 

“You shouldn’t have to go all the way into town. They should be comin’ to you here.”

“I want to get out—see his office.”

“S’only been a few days, honey,” Frank says gently. “You should take it easy.”

“Thanks, Frank,” you reach out to squeeze his arm, flush of emotion across the bridge of your nose. “I’m okay, promise.”

Joel takes you in, in full. You’ve got something shimmery swept across the highs of your cheekbones and glossy lips, the fine grain of your skin—pristine like you're made of sugar and everything good in the world. The silky wisps of baby hair at your temples that look softer than anything he’s probably ever touched in his whole life. And you’re so beautiful it almost hurts the eye to look at you, beautiful in a way that makes men cower at the sight, like you’d be the strongest thing in the whole world. But he sees all the rest too. The delicate curves of your shoulders, the fine swoop of your collarbone and the quick-fire beat of your pulse beneath the fragile skin of your throat. There’s fear all around you in a way, a desperate sort of sadness. 

He wishes there was more he could do for you, that he could bear the burden of all this entirely in your stead, that he could be all you need and want him to be without having to sacrifice his soul to give it to you. 

Your eyes flash back to his, and he worries for a second that you can read his mind. 

Behind you, Jesse pulls up with the sleek black of your father’s favorite car. Of course you’d choose this for today, bets you’ll find a way to turn it into a pretzel before the days end. 

“Take Jesse with you,” he says low at your back as you turn for the car. 

You look over your shoulder at him and his spine throbs. “No.”

Following you around the front of the car, he pulls the door open for you. “You’re not moving around alone anymore. He’s going. Jesse—” he whistles, “You’re going into town with Miss Kelly.”

“Yezzir,” he smiles with the sunny easiness only he possesses.  

“Excuse me,” you turn to frown up at him, stomping your foot again, and you’re a little bit of a brat, he’s realizing. “There’s no room in the car for him. He can’t come.”

“He’ll take a truck,” he says, leaving no room for discussion, but then gentles his voice again, “Things are gonna be different now. You’re the Kelly, you can’t go on all gung ho about your new reality. You need taking care of. Can you not fight me on this, please?”

“What I need—”

“Is to be protected.”

You give a delicate little huff through your nose that he finds to be just about the cutest damn thing he’s ever seen in his whole life. “Then it’ll be my choice how and who.”

“It’s easier if you just do as I say.” Grasping, grasping, praying for patience. 

“You overbearing d—”

“You’ll be okay meeting this jackoff? Don’t need me to come with you?”

You glower at him.

“I’m bein’ serious with you. I know you’re capable,” he puts his hands out, palms up in a conceding gesture, “But this is new, and there’s no shame in asking for support.”

At that, you get a confused little pinch between your brows, softest rose shaped mouth he’s ever seen—felt—all pursed up, and he thinks it’s wrong now, trying to be sweet to you after last night, looking at you this way and seeing the things he’s seeing. He should stay away, go away forever, find a hole in the ground in the middle of nowhere to bury himself in like you’d said, but he worries now, and quite desperately really, that he won’t ever be able to leave your side again after all this. 

“I have Dina.”

“I know, but—”

“Can you please just… not. I think— I think it’s better if we just steer clear of each other. If I need something,” you look away now, hazy look from last night back in your gaze again, like you’re remembering, like you’re wanting something else he’s not willing, not capable of giving, “I’ll ask for it. Otherwise you can focus on what’s important to you.” 

Gut punch. 

He soldiers on, can’t help it.

“You feelin’ alright?” 

Your eyes flit back to him for a fleeting second and there’s honesty in your gaze now, maybe something extremely vulnerable too, and then shuttering again, looking away again. He’d demand your gaze if he had the right, insist you tell him everything there is to know with just your eyes if you were his. 

But really, he’s got no right to ask anything. 

So instead, “Tell me what’s wrong,” he begs, praying you don’t say him. 

What’s wrong? A laugh and—nothing. Like your father isn’t dead, like he hadn’t hurt you as he had last night, like you’re looking for answers etched into the mountains or the sky. You bring your thumb to your right temple and his own aches in response, digging there for some unseen pain to be gouged out. “Tired—was having bad dreams.” Your voice sounds full of air, and you’ve got a huge emerald on your ring finger, an even larger turquoise stone beside it, other hand is covered in a row of opals—you’re a treasure of a girl, all the way inside and out, and it’s like he’s staring at a work of art, knowing that if he were to touch, it’d all be ruined. Your voice full of air floats in his bad ear and booms out the good one full of forlorn want. 

It feels like you’re the only two people left in the whole of Wyoming, standing here together under the sweet sun, maybe the whole world, and he’s ridden in guilt, wants to tell you he’s sorry again, beg or something, and thinks that God should give you the chance to rewind time when you’ve made someone feel this bad without meaning to. 

You whisper at the Tetons, and he’s all but forgotten, “I feel a little bit like I’m the real nightmare.”

“You couldn’t ever be, sweetheart,” he tells you and means it with his whole heart. 

It’s all agony swimming in your eyes, and if you don’t stop him, he’s going to take you into his arms right here in front of everyone. You need more than protecting, it’s clear, you need caring for, you need loving—the sort of something he can tell you’ve never had in your whole life. 

“Ready to go, honey?” Dina calls from the other side of the car, her canoodling with Ellie finally come to a pause. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie, looking down at your feet, impractical boots again, these ones sexy and tall and not for his admiring, blinking away the wash of heat that’s bloomed across the bridge of your freckled little nose. 

“Did she eat?” He asks Dina over your head.

“Ehhhhh, but I brought a smoothie,” she pulls out a thermos from her large bag and smiles all beaming and large. 

“A smoothie ain’t food. Get something else in town.”

“You're so prepared,” Ellie sighs dreamily beside her. 

“You’re annoying me,” you grouch at him, tossing your bag into the backseat, sliding into the luxuriously leathered interior as he shuts the door gently behind you, bending down to brace his palms against the open window. 

“Drive careful. Call me if you need anything.”

“You’re kinda a helicopter mom. You know that, Joel?” Dina tells him with that sweet smile of hers. 

“Do not entertain his nonsense,” you snap. 

“She’s just grumpy because Vogue France posted a piece on her and the funeral—the heiress to watch, they’ve called her.”

“I don’t know who they think I am—Kendall fucking Roy? This isn’t HBO, it’s my goddamn life.”

“It’s fine, drink your smoothie, here,” Dina soothes. 

“I don’t got a clue what any of that means,” Joel says. “And do up your belt,” frowning at you and pulling away just in time when you speed off with half the admonishment still on his tongue 

-

The bar is loud and sweaty and crowded enough there’s room for your spite, which he knows, is all this night out is. 

The day had gone from terrible to horrible to heinous, and he’s officially reached his limit now. You’d returned from your late morning in Jackson toting a gray cloud that’d settled over the entire ranch and everyone in it. All work had come to a slow and grinding halt, the mood morose, knowing that the lady of the manor was grieving and angry. 

And then a few hours into the evening, you, Ellie, and Dina had spun into the bunk, already giggling on drinks he was certain were too sugary and way too strong to end in anything good. Looking to rile up the boys into heading back to Jackson and finding a bar to terrorize. 

And so here he now finds himself, stepping through the door of The Mushroom, ridiculous name for a bar if anyone asked him, eyes searching for the gleam of your hair, that tiny fucking outfit you’d draped yourself in. You were hunting for trouble, to aggravate him, trying to hurt him with your, you’re not invited, Joel—no one wants you to come.

Angry, angry as a spitting fire. 

He’d felt like shit about himself and your upset for a second, and then had thought: Well, are you going to cowboy up, Joel? Or just lay here and bleed?

Now, there’s something sick in him that wants more of it, to take everything you’ve got to give, to see how far you can go, to push you just a little bit further too.

A masochist, is what he reckons he might actually be.

He finds Ellie’s bent head whispering into Dina’s ear, giggling and dragging her fingertips up the other girls bare arm, and he feels a thump of fondness for the two—happier than he can say that they’ve finally worked it all out after months of their will-they-won’t-they struggle.

Making his way over to them, he catches Frank in the distance, dancing to the countryfied Abba cover of Chiquitita the local band’s currently playing while Bill stands nearby, serious and menacing, keeping anyone from getting too close to his partner. 

No sign of you, and the backs of his knees itch and burn. 

“Where is she?” He demands when he reaches Ellie at their place against the bar. 

“Oh, dude. She’s gonna be soooo pissed.”

“Where, Ellie?”

Get you anything to drink, sugar? The bartender calls and Joel shakes her away, panic thumping in his gut the longer he doesn’t have eyes on you.

Dina knocks her head towards the end of the L-shaped bar, closest to the throng of dancing patrons, and there in the last seat and partially obscured by someone’s shoulder and ridiculously feathered hat, you sit. 

“Who the fuck is that?” 

“Can you please just leave her alone. She needs to blow some steam off.”

“Yeah, Joel, we’re watching her,” Dina adds, always the peacekeeper.

Or blow someone, Ellie adds in a snicker, and he gives her a death glare. “You need to quit the asshole act,” she tells him, purposefully thunking her beer hard enough on the bartop that some of it sloshes over the lip of the bottle onto his hand braced against the edge. 

Real mature. 

“Changed my mind,” he tells the bartender when she heads back their way, “Shot of Jameson.” 

Beside him, Jesse appears, beer in hand as he leans against the bar to watch you also. “That might just be the most beautiful girl I’ve seen in my whole life, honest to God,” he sighs wistfully. 

Joel sees red—this is just too much. “Quit fuckin’ lookin’ at her,” he snaps. 

Ellie snickers knowingly, and Frank and Bill join the group, picking up on the topic of conversation. 

“That little girl can drink a grown man under the goddamn table,” Bill says. 

“And looks good as hell doing it too—”

“Eyes off, you little shit,” Joel sends a threatening glance at Jesse again. 

Ellie ignores them both. “He’s a finance bro or some shit—from New York—here to play cowboy dress up with the group he’s with. Nothing I can’t handle, and you need to cool it and leave or have a drink and let her have fun.”

“She’s vulnerable right now, Ellie—”

“Yeah, you would know.”

Joel’s turn to do the ignoring, “And she needs someone to watch her back.”

“I’m fuckin’ watching it, man. You’re so annoying, and I’ll have you know that—” The fucker’s got a thick lock of your long hair trapped between his probably manicured fucking fingers, smoothing it between his thumb and index and then looping it around and around, drawing you in closer.

Joel’s about to start howling.

You’ve done something to him, knocked something askew inside him, and he needs you to set it back to rights. Let him out of this saw trap he’s been caught in. 

The man says something that has you throwing your head back in an overly eager laugh, loud and melodic in the most hypnotizing sort of way, meant to draw the eye or seduce or send his gut to twisting and aching. 

Ellie’s saying something about how you need to have fun, how you need to find yourself, and all Joel can think is that he can be the one to give you that, to help you do all that while still making sure you’re alright, taken care of. 

Over the wannabe cowboy’s shoulder, he sees your eyes land on him, and you give him one of those serenely beautiful smiles he knows means he’s about to lose his fucking mind and cause a scene. 

A provocation of a smile is what it is. 

You cross one long leg over the other, a flash of hot pink his eyes can’t help but flash to beneath the obscene hem of your skirt and lean in to whisper something, glossy lips right at his ear, and a tick starts up below Joel’s left eye. The fuckwit pulls you in closer, and you tip into him, hand on his shoulder—your eyes never leave Joel’s, and then you’re pulling him off the barstool and leading him into the throng of dancing people. He’s desperate to know what the back of your hot pink underwear looks like—string of lace wedged between the cleft of your ass, or silk wrapping around the full cheek like a perfect present? The man pulls you into himself, spinning you around, and you’re made up of blues and purples and pinks, shimmering like something that shouldn’t exist here amongst all the rest of them. Slinky little top made of silk like water and sparkles, your cheeks, flushed with drink or heat, but he’ll tell himself it’s because of him, because you’re still angry at him, thinking of him, and it soothes the tempest that’s brewing in his gut. 

He spins you towards himself, the man Joel’s about to beat senseless, shooting the Jameson without really tasting anything but the insane jealousy souring to irrational fury on his tongue, it pulses in his throat once, twice, and the fucker tugs you into himself again by a handful of your ass in that too short skirt and sticks his tongue in your mouth. Joel slams the glass on the bartop, not seeing red anymore, something like dark spots now, he’s so fucking pissed off. 

Ellie yelps his name, her and Jesse scrambling after him, but they’re too late and he’s there already, pulling you away, and gently because he might be feeling a little bit like a demon right now, but he knows what you are and how to handle you no matter what—and slams his fist into the fuckers nose, the satisfying crunch of broken bone and a pathetic cry sounds as he hits the sticky bar floor. The people around peer over in nothing more than mild curiosity, this is a cowboy bar after all. 

He watches the man for a second, making sure he stays down, and then turns to look at you and isn’t at all surprised when he finds that look of victory on your face. 

“Ready to go?” Voice all sweet innocence. 

You’re going to kill him. 

Spinning around on the toe of your boot, the hem of your little skirt flutters with your movements and he catches a flash of cheek, mystery of your panties still unsolved. 

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that?” Ellie snarks as they pass the group of them. 

He chooses to ignore that observation. “Don’t stay out too late. And let Bill drive back.”

Following you out into the night, he tries to take control of himself, to lie away the heat he feels sitting heavy in his stomach. 

He wishes he had a mint leaf to pulverize between his molars, he wishes he could pull you over his knee and spank your ass for being such a bad girl. And looming behind you, he knows you’re not even a little bit intimidated by his size as you dance and prance across the parking lot towards his truck.

“I know you’re ticked off because of last night and today, but you can’t lash out just because you’re angry with me.” 

All he gets in response is that head-thrown-back wind chime laughter—the real one, which is something. 

“You need to stop misbehaving,” he breathes down your neck.

“Hmm, I don’t think I will,” you singsong. 

“Are you drunk?” Refusing to be distracted, he’s going to stand strictly on business, he promises himself. 

You spin around again—always catching him off guard and pissing him off—hooking yourself on his shirtfront, pulling yourself into him like you’re trying to dance some fucked up dance he doesn’t know the steps to. 

“Not at all.”

“You need to not be touching me right now,” he warns, the threads of his control dangerously close to snapping, walking you backwards without putting his hands on you. Chest to chest, he feels like he could breathe fire if he really set his mind to it. 

“Yes, sir,” you say sweetly, dragging your palms down his chest and belly before letting him go, skipping ahead of him, humming an off-key rendition of whatever kitschy, poor excuse for a country song they’d been playing at the end in there. 

The even poorer excuse for a skirt bounces along the curve of your ass, driving him fucking mad—he’s goig to have a heart attack, he’s middle aged, he can’t handle this shit anymore—you. 

Stop that, he growls.

“God, you don’t like anything—you’re no fun,” you pout. 

Coming to the truck, he yanks the door open for you. “Get in the damn truck.” And he makes sure to turn away and not ogle your ass as you hop in, his palm hovering in the vicinity of your elbow if you need him. 

The prospect of an hour and a half of the dark drive and the scent of your musky sweet perfume and sweat soaked skin has his heart pounding. When he pulls his door open, you’re turned in your seat expectantly waiting for him, folded knees up on the seat and pink triangle right there to taunt him. 

“Sit right—put on your seatbelt.”

“You’re so bossy.” An exaggerated sigh and your voice is so fucking sassy, a tiny bit of a needy whine threaded through it, he feels his patience snap. 

Grabbing hold of your damp cheeks he squeezes hard enough to force your full mouth into a pout and giving your head a little shake he says, “And you need managing, little girl. Put your fucking belt on, or I’ll put it on for you.”

Eyes all pupil and gone blurry, you lick your lips and he can smell the sweet fruit scent of your breath. He groans, pushing you back—mistake, mistake, putting his hands on you at all—and peels out of the parking lot, and he is not hard in his jeans for you. 

“Are you mad at me?” You ask after several moments of forced silence. 

“No.”

“Not even for last night?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Why not?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it either.”

“Well, now I’ve changed my mind.”

Jesus, he mutters. “There’s nothing to discuss—already told you what I think and how it’s going to be and that’s final. You need to let it go, you hear me?”

You give a little groaning screech through your clenched teeth, turning away from him, still not wearing your goddamn seatbelt, never doing as he says. 

Toeing your boots off roughly, the little skirt hitches high enough on your thighs he catches a glimpse of the smooth glowing skin of your hip, eyes trying to watch the road and your thighs at the same time. 

“You’re horrible,” you say through a grimace, but your voice cracks a little bit at the end, and you’ve still got your face turned away so that he can’t tell if he’s made you cry or not now. 

“Are you cryin’?” He demands.

“No,” you sniffle, wiping your cheek on a lifted shoulder 

“Yes you are, liar.” Fuck—fuck, fuck.

“Well you’re bein’ mean,” you whine, finally turning to look at him again, and you’re all rose glow, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, lips red as a cherry. 

No man should be tested like this. It’s wrong—unnatural.

He tries to gentle his voice and steady the pounding of his heart, pressing down on the gas, wishing the road would disappear from beneath the tires of the truck and that he could have you home and away from him already. “Not bein’ mean, sweetheart. Just—just…” He sighs, “Goddamnit, just don’t how how to handle you,” he curses, losing the grasp on his gentleness. 

“See—you are angry with me!” A tear slips down your cheek, and Joel’s mouth waters. 

His heart kicks up another notch, hypnotized, “You make me fuckin’ crazy—is that what you wanna hear?”

“Yes.” You turn full in the seat to face him, bent knees against the center console block his view of the apex of your thighs. Fucking Christ. 

“Sit right. You’re flashing your bits,” he tries and fails to focus on the road. 

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I want you to see them, stupid.”

Jesus. “How much did you have to drink?” 

“Only one High Noon.”

“The hell is that? And quit lookin’ at me like that.”

“Like what?” Your knees shift against each other, and he’s gripping the steering wheel so tight he feels like he could rip it out of the dash. 

“You fuckin’ know like what.”

“Well if you hadn’t been such a cock block earlier, I’d be looking at someone else like this right now.”

And the teasing is too much. The bare legs and the tiny skirt and the hair and the lips and the sound of your voice, the kiss last night replaying in his mind over and over and over again like some lovesick taunt, the look of hurt he’d put on your face and the idea of you bare and slick, taking some other man that isn’t him. It’s too much. 

He jerks the truck roughly onto the road shoulder and into the grass, wheels spinning and gravel flying. Joel—you squeal, being jostled in your seat so that all he can see are soft thighs and pretty tits bouncing in his peripheral. He puts the truck in park, ripping his seat belt off, reaching over to tug you roughly forward by the nape, his fingers twisting in your hair in a hold he knows is too hard for something so delicate, his other hand grips below the bend of one knee squeezing hard. 

“If you think I’m gonna let you spread your legs for anyone fucking else—” he growls.

“Anyone else?” You laugh in his face, eyes spinning with something a little maniacal.

He thought he’d been worried for his soul, that taking you would be the undoing of everything he’d tried so hard to mend back together after Sarah. And really, he had tried so hard—to be good, to be better, to atone for all he’d not done before her, all he’d done after her. He’d tried to make himself into something that was respectful of her memory and the second chance Kelly had given him. 

But right here, and again because anytime he looks at you, is within a mile of your vicinity, it feels like you’re the only two people on the whole goddamn planet, he doesn’t think he really gives a fuck for being good or atoning or souls at all. Not even a little bit. 

He follows your lead from last night and kisses you, is sure to take your tongue this time. Forcing his thumb and forefinger between the line of your molars, he presses down hard enough to hurt the baby soft skin, spreading your jaw open wide so that he can lick into your mouth deep and wet. He wants to scare you, cow you, intimidate you into behaving with this hunger that seems to swallow him whole—remind you that he’s let you have your fun thus far, but the both of you know who’s playing games and who’s not. 

You let out a shocked little gasp onto his tongue, fingers twisting in the fabric over his shoulder, and he tightens his grip under your knee, tugging you just that little bit further forward, and when he pulls back to look at you, spit slick, swollen mouth and wide eyes, tits about to spill out of your top, you push his face away roughly, dragging your nails down the skin of his cheek with a tiny snarling growl. 

Spoiled little brat.

“Don’t be fuckin’ childish,” he snarls back, and pulls you roughly over the console and into his lap. 

“I can’t stand you,” you pant, settling above him, coming in to kiss him again, and he can’t deny it anymore. He’s hard as fuck for you. 

You moan into his mouth, high and throaty at the same time, girlish little sigh at the end that has him gripping your hip tightly, trying to stop himself from thrusting up against you.

“Can you taste him?” You lick his tongue. “He kinda looked like you, didn’t he? That’s why I chose him.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He’s going to stop this now, at any moment. He’s going to push you away and tell you this is wrong and that the two of you can’t do this. 

Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your tits high against his chest and grinding your lace covered little cunt against his cock. 

He groans into your mouth, pushed straight over the edge and free falling, cupping your ass to lift you off of himself a little bit, he just needs a second, before he takes a breath and presses you back down harder, rolling your hips against his lap. Little animal sounds, an ah, ah, ah and an oh, coupled with his mewled name. Cupping the soft of your ass in the palms of his hands, his calluses scrape against silken skin, and you fit him as if he’d dreamt you up just for himself; perfectly lush curves he can squeeze as hard as he wants because you’re not getting away from him now that he’s caught you in his snare. He drags his fingertips up the roundness of your asscheeks, and the mystery’s solved, it’s a thong. Catching the lace between his fingers he pulls the flimsy string upwards and tight against your pussy, a pained moan when he pulls even harder, making sure the fabric digs against your skin.

He knows if he cups you there you’ll be wet for him, for him, no one else but him. Knows he could bend you face first over the console, pull the soaked lace aside and suck on your wet little clit, make you come in his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. 

Joel, Joel, Joel, you hum in a dream voice. 

He can feel two little dimples at the low of your back, imagines what they’d look like with his thumbs gripped there as your ass takes his cock. 

He can’t say it enough—he feels fucking insane. 

“Touch me,” you beg, sliding and pressing against him, long hair like water slipping all over and against him too. 

Oh my God, he whisper moans when you spread your knees as wide as the seat allows, rocking your hips in short little hitches against the ridge of his cockhead. He knows your little clit is right there, cunt a knot of indescribable heat against him, and you pull your mouth away from his, letting your head fall back, hair a tangled curtain. He drags his nails back down your ass hard enough he hopes he’s leaving marks, leaning forward to lick along the salt tracks of your tears, watching you use him. 

“Do not fucking come,” he orders. He can’t—he can’t watch you do it and not be inside you when it happens, and the two of you absolutely cannot take this that far. 

He pulls your hips up again, forcing your movements still and you huff at him, whining. 

“We gotta stop.”

Noooo. “No, Joel. Please,” you cry, trying to pull yourself towards him—your mouth is so swollen—trying to escape his hold and get what you want for yourself. 

Grasping at the last vestiges of his sanity, “Fuck— No. No more.” He lifts you off his lap and back into your seat, sitting back to press himself against the door and adjusting the throbbing erection in his jeans, so hard it’s making him a little nauseous. If he doesn’t stop, he’s going to stuff his cock inside of you right here and now. He tucks the thick head up under his waistband, trying to find any sort of momentary relief. 

There isn’t enough oxygen in this truck. He needs air, space, to taste you. 

“Fine,” prim little nose in the air. You stretch one leg out across the console to dangle over his groin and let the other drop to the cab floor. “That’s fine—I’ll just take care of it myself then,” you tease provocatively, fingertips dragging up the inside of your thigh.

He shoots forward to stop your movement, gripping your wrist in a vice—baby bird bones beneath his fist, and you moan at his touch like the little wanton he’s coming to realize you are, writhing in your seat. “Don’t you fucking dare. I swear to God I’ll put you over my knee.”

“Jokes on you, I’d like that shit,” you sass back, ripping your wrist out of his hold, little socked foot kicking towards his face. He catches it, holding it in his grip and squeezing. “And I don’t really care if you’re not mad at me because I’m mad at you.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” and the mood changes, smolders into something more serious, more honest.

-

“Why didn’t you go today? The lawyer asked you to—” You’d wanted to find him as soon as you’d gotten home earlier, demand he give you an explanation. Cowardice had won over that desire, and going out to find a drink and a replacement man had seemed the easier alternative. 

“Wasn’t my place.” Spreading his thighs wider in his seat to accommodate himself, he presses his hips forward, and you can make out the heft of his cock beneath his jeans—your belly twists all full of heat and bubbles. 

“Did you know he was leaving you something?”

He laughs a bitter bark of a laugh. “No—never thought—” the words die in his throat and he stares out the window, lost to the memory of your father. “No, I didn’t think he was leaving me anything before I got the call.”

“It’ll make a good nest egg.” 

“Don’t want it.”

He won’t turn to look at you now, and you know that this conversation in the aftermath of touching you shames him. 

“You’re taking it. You don’t have a choice.” His eyes flash fire at you and then flit away. “He had all your banking information, it’s probably already there.”

Fucking Christ, he spits the murmured curse, bracing his elbow against the curve of the steering wheel, cupping his palm over his mouth as if to keep his anger and frustration in. The bulge of his bicep beneath his dark hoodie distracts you for a moment. 

You’d spent enough time watching him over the years that you’d learned all the things you knew he tried to hide in plain sight. That gentleness, that patience, that heart—that he is an inconceivably good and honest man. Things that are ultimately impossible to hide. 

Your eyes flash to the temple where a gristle of scar tissues is slashed across his skin. The meaning behind a scar like that, coupled with his bad ear and his green eyed photograph—it’s hard to hide. People can always tell when you’ve tried to kill yourself, you know. 

Which all goes to say—and you’re quite certain of this—that yes, the two of you are strangers, in ways, but in others, or in your own way, you know this man. You understand his nature. You know he wouldn’t have ever wanted it—that he does not want it and never will. He isn’t the sort of man who’d ever look a million dollars in the eye and feel moved by them. 

His humanity means more to him than his life, you’d heard Tommy say about him once to your father when you’d been an eavesdropping little girl. You hadn’t understood at the time, but now you do. 

The dark pullover and jeans, incongruously boyish, the scuffed boots—he’s so himself and so fucking hot and you want him so, so badly, and looking at him sitting here now, gorgeous, hair mused by your fingers, and your slick smeared across his jeans—you look down at your own twisted fingers in your lap, a little ashamed now too—and you can’t fathom why or how he’d ever look at you and feel moved by the likes of you either. 

You’re ashamed that you’re even angry at him for it at all, resentful of this gift your father has given him when really it is not only resentment, maybe not even truly that at all. More so, it’s a complicated mixing pot of feelings that these two men seem to have always been twisted up into knots together inside of you. Resentful, not because you don’t want him to have it. You want him to have everything he deserves or could ever think to want and more, but perhaps, because this was the final nail in the coffin scrap of proof that your father had cared about him in a very real way that you’d never experienced—in a way that was entirely Oswald Kelly’s own choice and not because of dead mothers or obligation or legacy. 

“It’s good he left it for you,” you say gently and mean it. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, looks away, from under the cover of his palm says, “S’not fair to you.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with me. This is about you and you deserving this, and I’m glad he gave you your due. He should’ve left more.”

His eyes flutter shut, sighing deeply and shakes his head. “You’ve made me into something I’m not. You need to see that.”

“You’re not some sort of cautionary tale, Joel.”

“You don’t know a thing about it,” voice like he could he angry but is being very careful to remain not. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, the reasons why I came here. You should look at me and see nothin’ worthwhile.”

“My father saw something,” you argue. “You let my father see that something. And I do too, no matter what you say, no matter what you do or how hard you push me away; I’m used to it, and you won’t change my mind.”

He gives you a look like you’re hurting him, like your truths hurt him. “We’re goin’ home. This is enough,” he gruffs, pulling the truck into drive again and peeling out of the grassy knoll. 

Fight dying in your throat, you feel suddenly exhausted, shivering coldly, belly an ember of unsated lust, your orgasm is tight and wet between your legs and you don’t want to argue or impose yourself on him anymore. You don’t want to feel like you’re imposing yourself now when he’d never made you feel like that before. 

The night is a pitch dark blur falling away behind your glazed over eyes, and huddling into yourself against the door, you hide your face away in your shoulder, belly swooping with nausea. 

“You drive too fast, I’m dizzy,” you mumble, and he  immediately slows, foot easing off the gas.

“You gonna puke?”

“Yes, all over your face.”

“I’m serious, darlin’. Need me to stop?”

“No. I just want to be home,” said in as small a voice as you can manage, hoping he won’t catch your words, and soon he’s turning off into the long drive to the house. 

When he pulls to a stop, you scramble to grab your boots before he can say anything else, but he’s unnaturally quick for such a large man, out the door and around the nose of the truck, pulling your own door open before you can even get a single boot on. He pulls them from your grasp, and then tugs you bodily out of your seat, slinging you over his shoulder as if you were some sack of nuisance prone potatoes. You screech, flailing, trying to knee him in the gut, but he bands a strong arm across the backs of your thighs, pinning you in obedient place. “Quit.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” You howl, hitting him repeatedly on the ass, trying to wriggle and make his life as difficult as you possibly can. 

This man has absolutely no consideration or respect or sense of personal space!

Technically, neither do you—but that’s neither here nor there. 

You scream like a hyena, shrill and long and he pinches your ass hard, right at the inner crease of your thigh and ass cheek, too close to your still wet pussy for comfort. “I said quit.”

“Everything alright out here?” You hear Jesse’s voice call from the direction of the bunk, they must’ve beat you two here while you’d been trying to seduce Joel into making you come. 

The snap of Joel’s fingers and then, “Mind your own fucking business.”

“You are so rude.”

He bumps you on his shoulder, jostling you on the soft of your belly and making your cunt go even tighter. You hate him. “Quiet, you.” 

Letting himself in the dark of your house, he makes his way up the stairs while you hang quietly upside down now, a little astounded, a lot turned on by how strong he is, lugging you all the way upstairs without even a change in his breathing. 

But as soon as he steps foot into your bedroom, now set to rights from yesterday’s disaster, you feel the change come on him. The shift and deepening of his breaths, the expanse of his ribs going wide and winglike as he sucks in a big gulp of air. You press your palm flat to the center of his back, feeling the whistle of his breath go in and out of him until he’s slipping you off his shoulder to bounce gently backwards onto your soft bed. 

He stands above you for a quiet moment, and you take in the broad shape of him backlit by the moonlight of your open drapes. He’s huge and imposing cast in this darkness, something out of a dream.

Literally—out of your own teenage fantasy dreams. 

Has anyone in all the world ever wanted someone as badly as you want him?

You can feel the press of his left knee against the inside of your right one, and you wish he’d put it between your thighs, join you on the bed.

“Can I ask you something?” You reach your fingers out and he tangles his hand with yours and it’s a small victory. 

“Yeah.”

“Would you come to my funeral?”

His fingers jolt— “What?”

“If I died.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“Tell me that you would—” You tug him forward and he lets himself come, bending over your prone form, braced on one arm and still holding onto your fingers with the other. “—That I wouldn't be alone even there.”

“You’re not alone.”

“Would you?”

“Makes me angry when you say shit like this—as if you don’t believe I’m going to take care of you.” 

“Please tell me, Joel. Promise me—” and you reach up to gently touch the scar across his temple. 

He goes frozen and understanding. “I’d come,” and you know it costs him something to give in to such an imagining and it makes you all the more grateful for it. 

Fingers sliding back into the curls at his temple, silver speckled, you know, you pull him further towards you until he’s close enough to press a softly hot kiss to his mouth. The two of you hold there for a moment, another, another, you can feel the wash of his heavy breathing through his nose, the flutter of his long lashes tangling with yours—you hope he’s searching for you in the dark—and you lift your knee up onto the bed, bending to open yourself to him. 

He pulls back, hand shooting to your jaw to grip you tightly in place, breath ragged, animal being hunted. 

You smile.

“Not gonna fuck you,” he says low.

“Why not?” It’s what you want, you deserve to have what you want. He squeezes your face once, presses another hard, too quick kiss to your mouth and then flips you over onto your belly, turning your skirt up over your ass to expose you. He tugs once on the string of your thong, drawing his finger along the lace wedged between your ass cheeks and then pulls his hand away for a moment before he’s spanking you hard and quick. 

Owwww, you whine, hitching your rump towards him, wanting more despite the sting. He bends his head and bites you even harder at the inner corner of your asscheek, teeth digging hard and long enough to leave a mark. You whine again, high and mewling, trying to escape his meanness and he smacks you again on the other cheek. 

“Go to bed, little girl. I’ll see you in the mornin’.”

And he’s leaving you, broad shouldered form slipping out your bedroom door and leaving you aching and angry to scream into your pillow.

You’re pretty sure you hear his deep laugh before the slam of the door sounds below, and you’re slipping your greedy fingers into the ruined wet of your panties, petting away the ache he’s left. 

-

The late May night is cool, despite the daytime heat, and Ellie shivers in her Carhartt, watching as Joel slips out the back kitchen door of the big house. 

“The hell is going on with those two?” Jesse says beside her, pulling long on his beer. The litter of yellow cans around them speaks to his mullish whining that he’d not been able to pull tonight. Sometimes he annoys her, but in that sort of endearing little brother way that makes her want to kick his ass and protect him at the same time. 

“Nothin’, they’re fine—just gotta fuck it out.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Naw—just smarter than you, man.”

“They like each other?”

“God, Jesse, you wouldn’t see an obvious thing if it were a tipsy bison barrelin’ towards you full speed in the middle of the day.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he says a little pathetically. Moping men—Ellie really can’t be assed to deal with them all. 

“It’s fine. You don’t need to understand. I do—I see all, I know all. You mere mortals wouldn’t understand.”

“S’kinda weird, no? Them two—him bein’ so much older, her bein’…well, you know— her.”

“Nope. Makes perfect sense—they need each other, you see.”

He shrugs, I guess—“You’re fuckin’ weird, too. You know that?”

She takes a swig of her beer now also, hoping the two idiots she loves most in the world, after Dina of course, figure each other out before the whole ranch has to suffer for it too. 

“Wrong again, Jesse. Wrong again.”

Chapter 3; Little Freak

Netherfeildren’s Masterlist

Updates Blog

[josephquinnswhore]

pleasure me pink - joel miller x female reader

Summary: Joel finds a sex toy you’d been hiding from him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: (no apocalypse) dom! Joel, mentions of sexting, use of vibrator, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, overstimulation, squirting, humiliation, bondage (using a belt), swearing. Established relationship, a little bit of insecure Joel, use of nicknames (baby, angel, ma’am, sweetheart, slut.)

Note: holy fuckkkkk I would die lol can this pls happen to me. @cool-iguana

You see her, in all her glory; the bright pink bulbous head staring at you through your half-full of cotton and lace pantie drawer. Biting your lip, you half-heartedly throw a few pairs of panties over it, trying to cover it up.

You’d contemplated telling Joel; but there were too many what ifs.

What if he got mad? Annoyed? Insecure? The last one she couldn’t bare the thought. So she’d just.. kept it a secret. Not that there was anything wrong with masterbation, you’d felt more inclined to feel guilty about hiding it from Joel.

“Baby, did ya hear me? Said we’re late, c’mon get dressed ‘fore I change my mind and strip you bare and take you here.” Your legs quake at his offer, growling voice half warning; half promise.

You let a soft groan leave your lips. You and Joel had promised your parents you’d come to theirs for dinner tonight, it had been a long few weeks coming, you couldn’t just.. not show up. It would break your mommas heart.

“Just gotta brush my teeth. Two minutes, promise!” You plead and Joel raises a brow in doubt.

“Baby..” He warns.

“Two minutes Joel!” You promise, making quick work to the bathroom before brushing your teeth.

Joel had rolled his eyes and grunted as he waited in the bedroom, wondering what had your attention so intently that you hadn’t heard him calling out; till the third time he addressed you.

Quietly, he pulls out the draws, grimacing when one draw squeaks open. To his luck, the tap was running, an annoying habit of yours he seemed to be ever grateful for in that moment.

Next draw; nothing. He grunts, feeling frustrated. Why couldn’t he find anything—he was so sure that there was something.

He opens the top draw with a feeling of irritation. Why did it take you so fucking long to brush your teeth—

Oh shit.

He blinked heavily as his eyes took in the sight before him, he wanted to pinch himself to see if it was actually real.

He stares at it; the bright pink vibrator half hidden by your skimpy lace underwear, staring back at him. Daring him to touch it, to question her.

But then she would know I went through her shit. Said the tiny voice in the back of his head, that made him scared to react in that moment.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts as you turn the water off, he quietly shuts the heavy chestnut oak drawer and steps a foot away, sitting on the end of your bed, having a playfully annoyed look on his face.

“See? Two minutes.” You grin at him, hand outstretched as if to congratulate yourself. “By the way, your shirts inside out.. doofus.”

Joel didn’t actually know how long you took. He could’ve spent half an hour rummaging through your draw standing there shocked and he wouldn’t have realised.

Instead he taps his watch, a coy smile on his lips as he stands. “Only just made it. Pushin’ my damn buttons already.” He groans as he notices his shirt, pulling it over his head as he stands to fix it.

“Yeah yeah, hurry up now, we’re gonna be late.” You quip. Joel could scoff, seeing as how you’re the reason they’re nearly twenty minutes late to leave the house already.

“Yes, ma’am.” This time his shirt is on the right way before he leaves the house.

As much as you loved your mother, her house smelt stale and her cooking was always bland or over cooked. The fact alone made it difficult to show enthusiasm to being out of bed-away from your home.

The other factor was Joel’s hand had never left your body since you’d left the house. He’d always loved touching you.. anywhere his hands could manage.. but this? This was odd.

“Here hon. We forgot to give it to you last time you visited. I hope you like it.” A bright pink scarf, one you’d likely never use, one that would serve its life decorating the back of your cupboard.

Not that you were ungrateful of such a gift.. but your mother had just taken up crocheting.. and you’ve got dozens of identical ones in matching colours. The pink just seems.. a bit out there.

“I think that colour suits ya nicely darlin’. Gonna look so pretty ‘round that pretty face of yours.” Joels hand finds your inner thigh, the size of his hand meant he could grip underneath your thigh. Fingertips drawing shapes on your skin, the action had you reeling.

Fuck, not here.

You clench your thighs together to try and stop Joel’s movements, he only smirks and looks at your mother who pats his shoulder.

“I hope she’s treating you right Joel, if she’s not send her my way and I’ll make sure that changes.” Your mom had joked playfully, ruffling your hair a little, as if you were a teenager and not a grown adult.

“She treats me well, ma’am. Sometimes she could use a little opening up. But she’s perfect.” Joel’s praise goes straight to your cunt, already slick and puffed lips sliding against your dampened underwear as if they could provide some friction.

You’re too frazzled to say anything, staying out of the conversation as Joel and your mother converse. He keeps his hand on your thigh, occasionally slipping up past the hem of your dress, thumb grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Close.. too close, but also not close enough.

Your fingers pick at the wool of the scarf, trying to ground yourself in the focus of rubbing your fingertips against the softness of the pink fabric.

Every molecule in your body wants to tear Joel away from this conversation, say your farewells and take Joel in the car, have his thick fingers inside you to relieve some of the pain building in your stomach. But you’re stuck here listening to them yabber on about something you don’t understand.

It’s clear Joel’s punishing you.. but for what?

The car ride was uncomfortably silent, Joel had turned the radio down—you watch the digits found down to zero and beg for them to come back.

Minutes without sound, only the revving engine of Joel’s pickup fills your senses, the noise was overbearing and it almost causes sensory overload.

“Joel—“ You cant finish a thought, nor form one. Because he holds his hand up to silence you.

“No talking. This car ride is to be silent if you want me to fucking touch you when we get home. Do you understand that?” His voice is low, a dangerous growl in which you took seriously.

So you nod. That was not good enough for Joel.

“Speak. Yes or no.” You wanted to argue, fight back. Now was not the time.

“Yes Joel. I understand.” He grunts in response to your hushed reply.

You didn’t dare speak a word as you entered the house, not even as Joel slightly pushed you up the stairs, where your punishment? Reward? Awaits you.

“On the bed. Now.” You obey, your body lies on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as you wait for Joel to climb over you, speak to you. Anything.

You hear ruffling, but don’t dare to look, the familiar sound of your draw opening had your heart ramming so hard against your chest it felt dizzying. Your pantry draw, the vibrator.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck..

He pulls it out, inspecting it before sitting in between her legs, device in hand. It’s tiny in comparison and he wonders if it actually feels good—compared to him or at all.

“What’s this angel? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me either.” Your body involuntary trembles at how calm, yet threatening Joel could sound.

“Vibrator..” You mumble, eyes scanning the room for something to gain your attention away from Joel.

His large hand grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. He looks curious—unimpressed. “No, you look at me when you’re speakin’ to me.”

You have no choice but to look at him.

“I know what it is, what I don’t understand is why you have it.” His eyes scan your own, looking for any indication of reason. “Thought you said I was all you’d need. You lyin’ to me angel?” He said mockingly, urging a reaction from her.

You shake your head frantically—the humiliation of the situation was unnerving. “No, no it’s not like that.. I only use it when you’re gone days at a time for work.”

He grunts at her. “So those texts an’ videos I send ain’t enough no more? Gotta defile yourself with a toy like a slut?”

“They are enough, they are.. you are. Sometimes I just need more than my fingers.” You whine, Joel doesn’t see any dishonesty.

He decides on your reward, humiliation.

He tosses to toy at her, it lands right next to her hand.

“Show me how you use it.” You hesitate, wondering if it’s a challenge—a trick.

“Now.” Joel demands, his hands making quick work to roll the fabric of your dress up above your hips. He lets out a filthy groan when he comes face level with your soaked panties.

“Made a fuckin’ mess of yourself already, dirty girl.” He mutters, mainly to himself. A part of him is relieved that he was the one that did this to you.. not that toy.

You feel your face warm as Joel watches you, his thick fingers curling around your panties before he tears them off you, throwing them onto the floor behind him.

Under Joel’s watchful gaze, you hesitantly turn on the pink wand, positioning the rounded head of the toy at your clit, the low buzzing of the toy on your favourite setting had your hips bucking and a soft moan escaping your lips.

Joel wants to hate it, how good it’s making you feel. Practically replacing him in its minimal efforts to make you feel good.

You work the toy around your clit, the sensitive bundle working up the coil in your stomach already, the pleasure from it has you unable to form a single thought. The only thing on your mind was you wanting to cum.

You’re a whimpering mess, hair is messy and starting to form small knots from your head withering on the pillow. Hips bucking every few seconds as the vibrator hits the spot that makes your toes curl, giving Joel the show of a lifetime.

He hates the way you’re moaning. He hates the way you look so fucking beautiful with your face scrunched up. He hates the way his cock is so fucking hard he can’t bare to not be inside you anymore.

Fuck the punishment, he decided finally. He needs to be inside you. To prove his worth to you.. that he’s better.

Joel strips his jeans off, he wraps his belt around your hands that holds the vibrator in place, keeping it attached to your clit. You look up at him in surprise and groan, legs trembling around him as he positions himself in between your hips.

His thick cock is weeping with precum. The sight of your glistening pussy only entices him more. He runs a thumb down your slit, gathering the juices and he groans. “Jesus Christ.”

Without warning he rams the thick head into you, the jolt of pain and pleasure has your eyes clenched shut and mouth wide open as you scream his name.

“Joel.. fuck. Joel!” In reply to your breathy voice screaming his name, his hands lift your legs and place your feet over his shoulders. His strong arms come down beside your head and he rails into you.

Hips slamming into yours as his thick head comes to the hilt inside of you, roughly nudging your cervix. The combination of his thick cock filling you, ramming your g-spot and the vibrator forced onto your clit has you reeling—you feel dizzy and you can barely hear Joel moaning.

“Fucking—hell this pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby what — what the fuck.. did you.. you just squirted all over my cock.” Joel’s voice barely registers in your head, until you hear what he says next.

“Gonna fuckin’ cum already.. fuck.” The droplets of sweat built up on his forehead drop onto your own. Animalistic grunts leave his lips and it pushes you to the edge.

Your orgasm that was tethered finally snaps, unable to hide the fact that you’d squirted for the first time ever, your legs shake around Joel’s head as they tighten around him, your cunt clenches Joel so perfectly he erupts inside of you, thick warm ropes of his cum fill you, overflowing out of your hole as he twitches and pulses inside of you.

Joel stays there for a moment and you’re trying to push him off—the vibrator still held onto your clit with the belt that had tied your hands, Joel weakly unties the belt and wipes the stray tears that had fallen down your cheek.

“You okay sweetheart?” His voice is breathy, but those deep brown eyes are full of concern.

You nod your head, a tired “mmhmm.” Is all you can muster right now, the sound of blood rushing through your body and ears ringing as you try to ride out the overstimulation of your climax.

He holds the toy in his hands, looking at you with a devilish grin, sitting it on the nightstand. “I think I might like this thing after all.”

You groan and roll into his chest, facing each other on your sides in your bed—full of each others specimen and bedsheets contaminated. That could wait for the moment.

Joel kisses the top of your head and nuzzles into your hair. “Dunno what I was so worried about.” He confesses to himself, admiring you as you feel sleepiness overcome your senses, you manage a small smile at Joel’s confession.

Joel knew now without a doubt in his mind he wasn’t competing with the toy. He was working with it, and he is good enough.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown Characters Background

A/N: Just a brief introduction to Smalltown's residents from the Smalltown!Meta!Reader series. I'll try to keep them general for the main story, but this is just extra to give y'all some lore on what Reader's got going on back home. It's not vital to the series, but it'll help. (Y'all might see me reuse these character's in other things.)

Smalltown is meant to be located in Louisiana.

Judith Anderson “Nana” 

Reader’s Step-grandmother, Samuel’s mother.

Don’t let the name fool you, as much as Reader loves their family Nana can be a bit controlling. She didn’t exactly approve of Adeline, Momma. Being that Adeline, Reader's Momma, though from a respectable and wealthy family, already had a child. It took some time getting used to, but eventually she grew very fond of her step-grandchild. It isn’t until Reader’s abilities manifest that she goes full Yandere. And, she’s a desperate controlling one. She wants Reader to stay in Smalltown, not just because she loves them and adores them, but because it gives her clout. Not many people can say they have such a divine being calling them Nana, as if she'd ever give that up to some sinful city slickers.

Charles Anderson “Grand Daddy”

Reader’s Step-grandfather, Samuel’s Mother

He’s an extremely serious and quiet man. Very much like his son in how he spoils his wife by doing anything she asks. If Nana wants something done, Grand Daddy will do it. Fix the sink? He’ll do it. Build a shed? He’ll do it. Take that bitch that tried to hurt their grand baby out back and feed their limbs to the alligators? He’ll do it. He’s always been fond of Reader. He’s very happy to have them as his grandchild, and hates the thought of them settling for something less or away from them. Their abilities just make the world more dangerous for them. It’s best they stay where they can be kept safe. 

Amelia “Mae” Palmer

Reader’s Childhood Bestfriend

Smalltown’s resident bug fanatic and fashion expert. A very unusual girl. But, Reader was their first friend and she adores them. They never judged her for collecting bugs. They always played with them and encouraged them. All Mae wants to do is be the one to dress Reader for their entire lives. She just wants to dress Reader in the clothes she’s made. She doesn't want anyone else’s designs to touch their skin. That’s her job. She’s fine if Reader leaves Smalltown. Just don't wear other people’s trash clothing and designs. Don't let it touch your precious skin. She fully plans on following Reader to Gotham. As if she’d let those pompous assholes dress her best friend.

Tanner H. Palmer

Reader’s Childhood Crush and Childhood Best Friends Older Brother

Tanner has always had a puppy crush on Reader. Hard not to when they treated his younger sister so kindly and were always following him around to play. It got worse when they got older and Reader’s crush grew more and more oblivious. Unfortunately, with how protective the entire town was, he wasn’t allowed to do anything due to their age gap. Reader dating in high school put him through utter hell. He lost a few screws and his temper during that time. He may have caused a few rumors that resulted in some of the competition being dragged out into the bayou. But, really? Those asses claimed to love Reader yet had the audacity to smile at someone else. Clearly they were just playing with Reader’s feelings. Getting them out of the way would open the position by Reader’s side for someone much more worthy. Naturally, Reader being sent to Gotham put a damper on his plans. But, not all is lost. He’s got Nana and the rest of Smalltown’s favor now. They just need to lure Reader back and then he’ll get his chance. What are those arrogant Gotham elites going to do about it? They don’t know Reader like he does.

A/N: I'll try to draw up some of the characters and make a background like this for Momma, Daddy, and Little Brother.

A/N: Part Seven is in the works. Just gotta get the creative juices flowing.

[dilfl0v3rss]

https://twitter.com/bestpornclipsx/status/1660915013479964674?s=46

what would have had to happen for y/n to be in this situation with ony

hmmmm idk

sikeeee!! i always know😛 link

“got some nerve…coming up in there like you ain’t got no sense” his voice deeply touched your ears as he spoke. your ass was hot from the many times he’s struck it. pussy being pounded into oblivion from the back. it was almost certain you were going to be sore and bedridden in the morning. all because you let jealousy cloud your judgment.

“ma i just told you, been telling you the whole ride home, i don’t know that girl” you rolled your eyes at him, not caring about the irritated look your boyfriend was giving you. “you mean to tell me this bitch knows your name, mom’s name, and has your number in her contacts, and you never fucked wit her? boy get the fuck outta here wit that!” you pointed your long acrylic nail in his face as you spoke. getting up close and personal to show him that you weren’t playing.

ony took a deep breath before replying. crossing his big arms across his chest to keep himself from just snatching you up right there. “first of all…watch your mouth. second, i need you to put that big girl brain to good use and think.” you rolled your eyes as he continued to to break down your assumptions. “no cocky shit, but i’m probably the most known nigga on this campus and you know that. so of course people gon know my name. as for my number, i can’t stop girls from asking around for it. she prolly got it from someone on the team and i’ll check em for that. and you can check my phone to clarify ‘cause ain’t no female in there but my momma and you.”

your face began to soften as his excuses were starting to make sense, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as he continued. “as far as knowing momma’s name, you gotta be smarter than that princess. after every game what i say to the camera?” your eyes revert to the floor, guilt clouding your mind as you start to feel bad for how you were acting. ony softly cooed at you, inked fingers tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. “tell me ma” you sighed deeply, taking a long pause before answering his question. “y’say ‘first i wanna give a shout-out to my very first supporters, my parents Abena and Todd Jackson.’ m’sorr-”

“sh sh sh. what else baby?” your eyes instantly began to water as you recited the second part of his speech. “a-and y’said ‘a-also wanna give a big shoutout t-to my beautiful g-girlfriend y/n.’ m’sorry papa i was just so mad and i–” he cut you off again, this time by snatching you up by your throat and bringing your face closer to his. “this is why we communicate ain’t it? to prevent shit like this, but you ain’t do that did you? nahh….you came into the team house yelling and screaming, embarrassing the both of us ‘cause you let your emotions get the best f’you. so now…. ima let mine get the best of me. go in the room and strip.”

it was a matter of minutes before ony had you stripped and screaming in the middle of the bed. dick punishing your insides so good , but you held that need for release with a death grip. “daddyyyy i said m’sorry alreadyyy. p-please let me cumm” you whined, drool dripping from your lips as ony replied with a hard slap on your ass. “no. you ain’t learn yet” he grumbled, angling his hips downward so he can be felt in your stomach. your mouth opened in a silent scream, the feeling too much for you as you tried to inch up the bed.

ony watched you closely, letting you move up just enough so you can take a sigh of relief before yanking you back onto him. “don’t run from me mama. you gettin what you deserve” you let out a loud whine as you felt him begin to hit you deeper than he did before, heavy hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. your ass was definitely going to be sore in the morning. “you love me?” ony asked, stroking you just right to the point where holding your orgasm was almost unbearable. “y-you know i love you daddy”

the next thing you knew, your back was too his chest and ony has his hand tightly around your neck. the brutal pace of his hips slowing to deep strokes. his dick repeatedly hitting the sweetest spots inside of you. there was no way you could hold it in anymore, a quiet whine escaping your lips as your release slowly trickled down your thighs. ony wasn’t far behind, his ropes of cum shot deep into you as he slowed his hips to a stop.

“if you love me then communicate wit me cause now you gon be here all night. turn over.”

[hoe4sports]

Just the babysitter

Summary: You babysit Alessia’s daughter, Lille while she goes out for the evening. You end up falling asleep with Lille on you, and when you wake up; Lille is gone.

Note: No triggers. The song about is the Norwegian Lullaby you sing to Lille, have a listen.

You found yourself infront of Alessia’s apartment. It was at the 13th floor of a relative new building. It had all the things you could ever need within a reach distance; a gym, a coffee shop, a roof terrace, a resultant and a pool. The building was tall, the kind of tall where you get chills down your spine during thunderstorms because the building would slowly sway to keep itself steady.

Your hand reached for the door as you knocked three times. It was a semi fresh friendship so you figured out that it would be a bit odd to just valse in case she had someone over. The pair of you had been introduced over Frida, your friend from back home in Norway because of Alessia’s daughter. Her donor was Norwegian which for Alessia meant that she wanted to expose her daughter to the Norwegian culture. That was how you had ended up babysitting for Alessia once her mother had to go home. It wasn’t really a big issue for you because Alessia’s little daughter was an incredibly easygoing baby who you were more than happy to spend time with. And you certainly didn’t mind Lille’s mother.

With that, you were ripped out of your chain of thoughts as the door swung up infront of you. “Ah, Y/N! Thank you so much for babysitting, Lille is so excited to see you” she stated as Lille was attached at her hip. Her hand was in her mouth, but when she saw you she got the biggest grin on her face. That grin broke into a smile and a pair of tiny hands that reached towards you. You instinctively stepped into the apartment and lifted Lille off Alessia’s hip before you poked Lille’s nose making her giggle. “No worries, there is no other way I’d spend my Saturday afternoon now is there” you said as you looked at Lille who smiled towards you, her little hand touching your cheek. It was true, you didn’t have too many friends since you were still relatively new in England. People tended to bother you, but babies? You loved babies. You left behind a bunch of nephews and nieces in Norway so this did good for your homesickness. Alessia looked at you and for a split second, you swear she was blushing.

“Alright, Lille, mommy will be back after you have gone night-night, okay? Be nice to Y/N and give her lots of kisses and cuddles” Alessia said while stroking Lille’s cheek before she kissed the top of her head. “Alright momma, now go to your concert! You look stunning!” You couldn’t believe your own words, but Alessia gave you a heartwarming few seconds of eye contact while she smiled sincerely before looking nervously down at her shoes. For a second, it looked like she blushed. A few seconds of thinking lead you to the conclusion that she was just tired from practice, and besides that, very straight.

“You have my number and Frida’s number, call if anything worries you. I’ll be home around 12” Alessia said as she grabbed her purse from the rack behind you before she lightly kissed your cheek making you turn colours like a lizard into a bright red tone. The feeling of heat building up in your cheeks was nostalgic to high school and your mouth couldn’t spit out any words at all. You only realised how stunned you were when Alessia slammed the door shut and locked in on the way out. Lille looked at you. “Ma-ma?” she said with a pout on her pink lips. “Momma is gonna go with Tante Frida and Aunty Leah to watch Taylor Swift! So Lille and Tante is gonna have tantetid!” You said as Lille clapped her hands while you headed for the livingroom.

—

After a good hour of play, Lille was getting fussier by the minute. The toy box was a mess and finding the little white cat that Lille loved wasn’t an easy task. You rumbled through the box like there was no tomorrow, but with no use as the search was unsuccessful. Lille then suddenly make a screetch. The chicken teddy she got from Katie suddenly comes flying and ends up being whacked into the wall across from her. Your head turned in shock towards Lille.

“Lille! Hvorfor kastet du kyllingen din? Nå får han au-au"

«NEI!»

«Er du sulten? Miss grumpy pants»

Lille smacked her lips in agreement on the suggestion of food. If it was one thing Lille loved, it was porridge or grøt as the Norwegians calls it. Lille’s favorite was porridge with strawberry and blueberries. The little princess gets what the little princess wants. Lille crawled towards you while cooing with the biggest smile on her face. Soon enough, she was in your arms heading to the kitchen.

—

“Here comes the train, tooot tooot” young say as Lille giggles and accepts the spoonful. The smell of porridge is wonderful. The mixture of oats, milk, cinnamon and the tiniest bit of honey wraps the apartment in a warm fuzzy blanket of comfort and bliss. It makes you feel nostalgic really. As a kid, your grandparents would make you porridge if you struggled to fall asleep and the bland food never failed to make you tired.

Lille grabs the spoon from you, trying to utilise the utensils and her mommy not being home. The try is deemed to be unsuccessful as porridge goes flying out in the room. You inspect the damages and see the goey mixture stuck to the refrigerator, the sink, the wall and even the chairs. Just when you turn around, Lille pours the bowl over her head leaving you dumbfounded and speechless. Lille doesn’t care, she just babbles away as she rubs the food into her skin. Your eyes widen in shock when you come to the realisation that this means bath time. “Oh my, does this little bean need a bath?” you say as you push the highchair from the table to inspect the damage. Her onesie is covered, smothered in food and so is her blonde hair. Lille giggles when you pick her up and you just shake your head while smiling. “Syns du det er morsomt?” You ask and Lille replies by giggling even louder.

—

An hour later, Lille has been in the bath. You have played with her duckies, washed her hair with strawberry shampoo and dressed her in one of the pj’s you found in Lille’s bedroom. You are now walking back and forth in her dim room while bouncing the little girl who isn’t far from falling asleep. The light is dimmed, the curtains are pulled in front of the window and you can hear the wind picking up. You notice how it seems to startle Lille, so you quickly begin to sing a Norwegian lullaby to her. She dosent seem to want to calm down as the wind picks up, so you get yourself seated in the rocking chair next to her crib. You slowly use the chair to rock back and forth in a rytmic slow pace which seems to do the trick.

“Are you tired, pretty girl? You had a long day. Mommy is gonna be home in a few hours and then everything will be back to normal. But tante loves spending time with you, even when you are silly or covered in oats.” you say softly as you carefully stroke her chin. You can hear her muffled soft snoring start to pick up which is when you know is the golden window for you to transfer her into her crib. The transfer to the crib goes seamlessly and that means one thing. You are now left to scrub the kitchen clean which you dread because every porridge lover knows that the mixture becomes like cement once it has dried down.

—

Once you finish scrubbing the floor, cabinets, refrigerator, Lille’s chair and the table; you finally go to the living room to relax. The baby call is next to you in case Lille wakes up; but something tells you that she is out for the rest of the night. The lounge chair is your favourite spot, so you situate yourself in the big chair with a blanket and the magazine you brought with you. The magazine is your favourite, filled with everything from delicious recipes to knitting patterns and the latest fashion. Your mother sends you the magazine weekly as it’s only available in Norway. Whenever you get a new magazine, it’s like a piece of home in London. It radiates the same comfort you got from your teddy as a child. You don’t really understand if it’s the magazine or the kind act from your mother that makes you feel comforted. Not that it matters, London is a big city and you will do anything to have some sense of familiarity. The comfort of the blanket, the magazine and the sounds of the wind makes you feel tired, and soon enough you are fast asleep.

—

You wake up to Lille sobbing in the baby monitor a little while later, so you shoot up to go get her. It’s not the hungry crying or the pain crying, it’s the comfort crying. Lille sometimes just likes to be held, and you are always happy to oblige.

Her hands reach for you when you find her in her crib and you immediately pick her up. The maternal instinct in you is flourishing whenever you take care of babies. Lille’s favourite blanket comes along with her from the crib and you place her in your arms as you walk with her in the room to soothe her. She calms down easily, but for whatever reason she won’t fall asleep. You decided to sing a Norwegian lullaby that your mother sang to you as a child.

Du skal ikke tro det blir sommer

Før æ jage vinteren bort

Og gjør så sola kan skinne

Så det kan bli sommer litt fort

Æ gjør sånn at blomstern vil blomstre

At gresset blir grønt der du går

Så du kan gå barbeint i enga

For æ smelta snøen i går

It works like a charm and she’s fast asleep within minutes. You sit down in the big lounge chair just admiring the little cutie as you jawn while leaning into the chair. The decision to stay in the chair a little incase she wakes up is an easy choice. You lean back in the chair and put your feet up on the little foot rest.

-

Your eyes shoot up feeling confused. The confusion is laying around your head like a thick layer of dust. Its the kind of confusion where your heart is beating rapidly and you cant seem to know your own name. You try to get your eyes to work properly, but you just sit there staring straight forward blinking. That's until you feel a slight panic. THE BABY. You look down at your hands with a sense of terror in your heart. You swear you had the baby just a second ago.

Could you have dropped her? Could she have woken up and crawled out? What if the balcony door was open? What if someone kidnapped her?

"Oh my god? OH MY GOD"

The rocking chair and the wool blanket gets left behind as you shoot yourself up like a rocket, desperate to locate the baby. The crib is next to you, but there is no baby in the crib. Its still dark outside. You cannot for the life of you understand where the baby could've gone. Maybe you didnt have any motherly instincts after all?

The anxiety started to creep into your head when you heard something drop to the floor in the livingroom. The direction of your steps changed and soon you found yourself standing in the doorway leading to the hall. Down the hall to the left was the livingroom and you instantly felt all the hairs on your back rise when you hear a faint man's voice. The lump in your throat grew by the second.

"Y/N?"

If you could describe what getting shot felt like without actually getting shot, it was this feeling. It felt like all the blood in your body stopped, like your heart stopped pumping, like someone pulled the ground away from underneath your feet. Then your gaze met Alessia's gaze instantly softening your body.

"Im sorry, i didnt mean to scare you! Come on girlie, lunch is ready and Lille is starving! She has been begging to go into her room to see you, but i figured i'd let you sleep."

You shook your head and smiled to Alessia who was carrying Lille. Lille reached her hands towards you and you stroke her cheek softly before the tree of you headed into the kitchen. On the kitchen table, there is pancakes and all kinds of fruits and berries. There is lemonade, milk and apple juice. Your stomach alwardly decides to do a loud growl which causes Alessia to giggle.

-

An hour later, you have helped do the dishes and done a little lipsync contest. The mood is light and it’s been a blast. You find yourself in the hallway with Alessia and Lille, not really wanting to leave.

“Thank you again for babysitting, I’m so glad to have you in our lives.”

You blush on the compliment.

“Thank you again for the lunch and sorry for falling asleep in Lille’s ro-“

“Don’t even worry about it, anytime”

Alessia smiles and there is a split second of awkwardness. You chuckle and kiss Lille’s cheek before saying goodbye.

-

A few hours later you are with Frido, digging in on a lasagna when she gets a call on her phone. She declines it, but looks at it like Taylor swift was just announced president. She turns the phone towards you and your jaw drops.

“You said you were just babysitting? Dosent look like that to me babe!”

-

@Alessia: Grateful to have someone that my daughter falls asleep on.💗 @Y/N

[minminbunny]

Yandere Stalker AU - Caregiver! Lee Minho/Gender Neutral Little! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Why did you stop walking?" Minho asked, standing behind you with his hood up. Your breath hitched, "What?" you whispered, turning your head. Minho tilted his head, "You. Why did you stop walking?" he asked, looking at you as if he spoke the obvious. The goosebumps on your arms sent you warning flags at his behavior. Minho chuckled lowly, "Don't scream," he whispered, covering your mouth with a cloth. You thrashed beneath his hold, adrenaline pumping in your veins. Minho grunted, holding the cloth firm, "Shh, shh, darling. Just go to sleep," he whispered, smirking as your body grew limp within his hold. "I'll take good care of you, darling. No one can hurt you ever again," he said, carrying your body bridal style.

FORCED INFANTILISM BELOW CUT

You stirred awake, "Where am I?" you slurred, looking around. Minho chuckled, looking over your crib, "Good morning, darling. Are you hungry?" he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You flinched from his touch, your eyes widened with fear. Minho chuckled, "Aww, such a jumpy little one. Don't worry, darling. Soon you'll warm up to me," he said, holding a familiar plush toy. You wavered at the sight, confusion and anxiety running through your brain. Minho cooed, "You're wondering how I got your special toy aren't you, darling. Oh, I can read you like an open book," he said, gently placing the toy next to your pillow. You gulped, clutching the plushie to your chest. "Aren't you adorable," Minho said, adoring the way you hugged the plush like your lifeline.

Minho stood straight, he stared down at you, "I know you have many questions, darling. And I will answer them in due time. But for now, I just want you to know that I've been watching you. Your situation twinged a saviour complex so to speak and I had to protect you," he said with sincerity in his voice. You glared at him, not liking the situation you've been put in. Minho chuckled, "Feisty little thing," he said, wanting to pet your hair but he didn't want to scare you further. "Take a look around, darling. This will be your room for a while. Oh, and one more thing. Don't panic when you can't move your legs okay? The drug will wear off with time," Minho said, leaving the room. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to lift your legs after his words but to no avail. Soft tears spilt down your cheeks, fearing the worst. Minho chuckled, watching you through the baby monitor, "So predictable," he said, grazing the monitor with adoration.

"Momma?" you called out, kneeling in the crib, your head barely peeking over the rail. Minho cooed, holding your bottle, "What's wrong, sweetheart. Did you get hungry?" he asked, shaking the warm bottle. You nodded your head, making grabby hands towards him, "Nom nom," you babbled, staring at him with dilated eyes. "Ahm, nom nom just for you," Minho said, lifting your out of the crib and over his lap. You snuggled into his chest, holding the bottle with both of your hands. Minho chuckled, teasing you with the bottle nip, "Aww, that's not your mouth," he said, gently feeding you. Soft suckles echoed within the room as he rocked your body close, "I never regret saving you, darling. Never," he whispered, holding you firmly, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. You burrowed closer to him, never regretting the day you gave into him.

[tvgals]

OH MY GOD

THIS VIDEO IS SO GIRL DAD ONY

this is the saga of ony and his daughter growing together

-

age: newborn.

ony sat next to you in a brown chair while you rested with your newborn daughter on your chest. “she’s so pretty.” ony says in awe. you smile a bit, turning to him. “wanna hold her for a while? i’m getting tired..” you offer. your husbands face lights up in excitement. he gently takes chlóe from your chest and hold her against his own. you grin and eventually fall asleep.

-

age: 12 months

you’re in the kitchen fixing chlóe’s plate, she’s giggling and babbling at whatever ony is doing. soon he gets a little closer, deciding to have a heart to heart with his baby.

“you’re gonna grow up to do beautiful things, baby. i’ll be here to support you and love you, no matter what, okay?” he asks, his daughter cocking her head to the side, her big brown eyes filled with curiosity. “i love you, chlóe.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i lub you!” she repeats smiling.

you turn to face chlóe and ony to make sure you two heard the same thing. onyankopon’s face is filled with shock and happiness. “good job! you’re such a smart girl!” you grin, rushing over to chlóe to engulf her in a hug. you notice ony’s been quiet, you turn to face him and his eyes start to well with tears. “are you okay?” you ask, pulling a chair up to sit next to him.

“i’m more than okay.” ony says, tears falling out his brown eyes, almost identical to his daughters. “jesus, we have a fucking family, y/n.” ony sniffles, rubbing his eyes. “we do.” you grin.

-

age: 4

chlóe was in her room pouting. she had a dance recital in an hour and ony just couldn’t get her puff right. he tried slicking it back with water, that didn’t work, then he tried using a rubber band which just popped. “baby, daddy’s trying his best.” ony says, walking into her room. “i want mommy to do it!” chlóe kicks her feet in rebellion.

“mommy’s not here, you know that. now are you gone be a big girl and let daddy try to help you or are you gonna miss your recital?” ony asks, his hands on his hip. “i’ll let daddy help me.” chlóe mumbles.

“good.”

although it took only many tutorials and a few popped hair ties, he finally did it. chlóe’s smile was a perfect reflection on how she was feeling. “i love it daddy!”

-

age: 8

it’s chlóe’s first day of 3rd grade and she has on a fresh pair of j’s along with a freshly braided ponytail. at first, you were afraid of what she was gonna think in a new environment, but what you really should’ve been worried about was your husband.

“and don’t get into no trouble, ya heard me?” ony lists off the rules and regulations chlóe must follow while at school. you can tell she never takes them seriously, but serious enough to know he wasn’t playing.

“yes sir!” chlóe nods her head. “well, have a good first day, baby.” you smile, giving your daughter a kiss on her forehead before she got out the car. ony stepped out and smiled, picking her up and engulfing her in a hug. “have a good day, you’re smart and loved.” ony reminds his daughter. “bye daddy!” chloe smiles, waving and running to her friends.

-

age: 12

“jesus…” ony groaned. he looked at chlóes report card, filled with c’s and very low b’s. he knew his daughter was capable of better, so why isn’t she doing so?

“chlóe! get yo ass down here!” ony called from the kitchen where he was sat with her report card. chlóe came downstairs and sat in front of him. “yes?” she asks.

“what’s going on?” he asks, sliding the paper towards her. there’s a few minutes of silence, chlóes head hanging low. she just shrugs her shoulders, not wanting to talk about it.

“my teacher is so rude…” chlóe whispers, fiddling with her pajama shirt. “oh? how so.” ony asks, wanting a real answer by his standards. “everytime i ask her a question about the work she just goes, ‘ask yo daddy since he know everything’ chlóe frowns. “and i thought i could do it by myself because i didn’t wanna bother you and momma…”

ony sighs, rubbing his face. “baby, if you need help it ain’t nun to ask. it’s okay to ask questions, you’re never bothering me and your mom.” ony comforts his daughter. “so tomorrow, i’m gonna talk to her after school, yeah?” ony asks, knowing if chlóe said no he was gonna do it anyways.

-

age: 16

it’s chlóes 16th birthday and she decided she wanted to do something cute. all she wanted was to hang out with you two for a while, then go out with her friends just to reunite with you guys for hibachi.

“i’m glad everyone’s here!” chlóe smiles, taking pictures with her friends. “okay, okay, i think it’s appropriate to open gifts now?” she asks, turning to you. “do whatever you want.” you smile, knowing the gift her father got her was gonna top everything else.

“hmmm….” chlóe taps her chin. she eventually settles on a big pink bag, bringing it into her lap. she goes through all her gifts through random selection until ony comes up to her with a smaller box. “happy birthday.” he smiles. “thank you daddy!” she grins. chlóe opens the box up and almost passes out at the sight of car keys. “y’all!” she almost screams at the top of her lungs.

“i got a car! i got a car!” chlóe says, jumping up and down. all her friends laugh at her reaction, following her to her car outside. it was a beautiful aston martain db9, white with pink interior like she asked. chlóe’s name was spelt out on the hood with pink balloons. chlóe turns around to meet you and onys eyes. she pushes past everyone to give you two a big hug. “thank you, thank you!” she chants, crying. “you deserve it baby! gone ahead and take it for a test drive.” you say. chlóe nods and invites her friends into the car with her.

“we’ll be back!” and that’s exactly what she said when she left for college two years later.

-

sorry the ending is BOOKIE i didn’t feel like writing anymore

[woso-dreamzzz]

Captain II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You come home after being announced as captain

In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.

You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.

There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.

The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.

You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.

You pull up at their house and sigh.

Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.

You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.

You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.

The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.

You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.

Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.

"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."

"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"

"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."

You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.

"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."

"I told Talia," You reply.

In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.

She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.

"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."

In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.

Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.

Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.

Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.

"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"

You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.

"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"

"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"

"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"

(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)

"Come on," You complain," Let go!"

You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.

Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.

She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."

"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.

"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"

"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"

"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."

You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.

Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"

"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"

Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."