reliancefinancial

[xxlelaxx]

I love my daughter so much, but I just don't want to be around her right now. I think I need a normal night of sleep, morning routine without interruptions and ability to eat when I want for a day. No keeping everything running and making appointments and entertaining baby while doing stuff I enjoy so I don't go insane. No doing everything cramped cause I need to be near her. No taking care of stupid carrot marks everywhere, which do not taste sweet! They taste earthy and telling me not to let them get onto clothing is stupid advice. No getting spit or puked on. No consideration for everyone's boundaries while mine get ignored. No getting screamed at because of arms, shitting, being tired, farts being stuck or whatever stupid reason baby's cry (I know their reasons are not stupid I just need to rant). No husband who needs attention and refuses to get diagnosed. No catering to potential ADHD. Not cats that want attention. No having to listen to complaints about me not sounding nice or happy when I get frustrated or angry. No people staring at me or thinking that a baby is an invitation to talk to me. No more feeling like shit cause I have to be nice while not getting sleep for over four months. Just for a day

[triptuckers]

keep the nightmares away - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!

you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.

everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.

'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'

percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.

'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'

'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'

'thank the gods.' you mutter.

you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.

you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.

you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.

'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.

if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.

when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.

after a few minutes she returns with two keys.

'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.

'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'

you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.

'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'

'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.

you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.

'sorry.' you mutter.

'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.

'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'

yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.

you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.

'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.

you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.

'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.

you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.

'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.

you sigh. 'fine.'

'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'

'thanks, perce.'

percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.

he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.

when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.

he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.

'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.

'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'

you frown. 'first shift?'

'sleeping in the bed.'

'where will you sleep?'

'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'

you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.

sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.

percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.

'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.

'alright.' says percy.

there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.

'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'

'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.

you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.

'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'

'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.

it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?

after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.

he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.

but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.

it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.

'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?

but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.

he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.

but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.

you're having a nightmare.

a bad one, by the looks of it.

gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.

'hey, wake up.'

in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.

you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.

'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.

his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.

'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.

'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.

'no I'm fine.'

'talking mostly helps me.'

you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.

'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'

'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.

'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.

'shit, I'm sorry.'

'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'

'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'

'yeah, I can try.'

the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.

'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.

'yeah?'

'is it okay if I...?'

wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.

'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.

'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.

you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[artssslut2]

Champ

Summary: Arts wife goes into labor during one of his most important matches and Patrick is caught in the middle.

Art Donaldson x Reader

Okay it’s a little long but I like the way it turned out! Please send requests in!

It was July, it was hot and you were heavily pregnant. The combo did not go well, you were so uncomfortable and anyone around you longer than ten minutes knew it especially Art. Art felt terrible he didn’t know how to help, you were so irritated most of the times he felt like it was his fault. But if he acted like it was his fault you would cry and think your a bad wife so he just kept to himself and did the best he could, doing whatever he could for you.

You and Art had been back at home for a few months and were able to get the nursery all set up and were ready to welcome your baby girl. However Art had one last match before you planned to give birth. The U.S open. Luckily it was right by your house this year so you didn’t have to travel. You were doing your best to support his prep but you were kind of pre occupied.

It was the day before the match, Art was off because he always took the day off before a match to rest and reset,

“Can I get you anything babe?” Art asked you standing up from the outdoor lounge bed. It was a painfully hot day and your air conditioning had broke in your house so you and Art were outside relaxing

“No Art sit down. I should be getting you stuff you have the most important-“ Art cut you off while you tried sitting up

“Hey hey stop, it’s okay just relax, you have something big coming up too so let me take care of you” he said making you lay back down

“Art I’m such a bad wife” you started to cry, you felt pathetic, Art knew the drill

“Baby stop your the greatest wife you know that” Art knew what would make you feel better even if it would make him feel worse “can you… get me some water?” He offered more for you than him. You stopped crying and started to stand up and grab his some water,

“It is so fucking hot!” You yelled aggressively handing your husband your water, “I just need this baby to get the fuck out! My back hurts my feet hurt I’m huge and it’s so fucking hot!” You continued on your hormonal rampage Art stood up letting you finish which he learned was best. He walked up to you and wrapped His arms around you, you slowly gave in Art waited a minute before saying soemthing

“You know it’s so amazing what your doing for our little girl, I’m sorry it’s so hot out. But it two weeks we will get to see Lily, and hold her and I will never let her forget all that you did to bring her into the world.” He softly told you. You loved him so much he always knew what to do

“ I love you Art. thank you I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.” You said into his chest

“You’re allowed to be my love… want me to give you a back massage?” He offered, you just looked up at him smiling already going inside.

“I’ll text Patrick and tell him to bring over all of his fans.” Art said picking up his phone

The rest of the night you spent relaxing as did Art, doing some minor prep things for his huge match tomorrow. You knew he was nervous this is the first open of his career. Patrick had brought over four fans which helped but not much.

Throughout the night you couldn’t sleep which wasn’t unusual for you lately but this was different you were having some pain in your stomach and back. You have had Braxton hicks before but these felt different, you were pretty sure they were real contractions. This couldn’t be happening not now before your husbands big match. You tried to stay calm mabye it would pass and you were just over reacting. You decided not to say anything to Art, he needed to focus. If he knew that anything was wrong he would not play as well. Besides the contraction we’re very far apart and not frequent enough to worry anyways.

You picked out Arts outfit like you always did. Art was leaving before you to warm up and get ready.

“Patrick is gonna pick up in a half an hour, I don’t want you to have to drive right now” he told you, you rolled your eyes playfully at his over protectiveness. You may have protested but you didn’t think it was a good idea to drive either.

“Go get ‘em champ” you whispered before kissing him with your arms around his shoulders, he gave you a nervous smile then leaned down to your bump

“Hey Lily girl wish your daddy luck today, okay?“ he kissed your belly making you smile, she definitely was wishing him luck. Art kissed you once more before leaving. You finished getting ready, you had only felt one contraction since he left about fifteens ago. They were starting to get more intense, you wished Art was here to support you.

Patrick came though the front door as you were leaned over clutching the counter top in the middle of a contraction.

“Fuck y/n are you okay what’s going on!?” He rushed over to you putting his hand on your back, the contraction ended after about 40 seconds

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m just… I’m fine” you stuttered. Patrick looked at you knowing you were lying. He looked terrified “I think I’m in labor” you continued. Patrick’s mouth opened wider

“Well should I call Art?!” He panicked already grabbing his phone

“No! Don’t call him!” Patrick looked at you very confused “he can’t know this is the most important match of his Career he can’t miss it or be distracted. He can’t” you had tears in your eyes because of how terrible you felt that this was happening today.

“Y/n you gotta call him it will be fine” Patrick tried convincing you

“No Patrick! It’s fine the contractions are far apart and spontaneous, it might not even be real, and if it is we’ve got a lot of time so we are going to the fucking match and we are going to support my husband and not take this away from him! So get in the damn car right now so we aren’t late!” You ordered, Patrick hesitated then decided to listen to you. You took a deep breath and headed out to the car as well.

The drive to the stadium you had one more contraction only lasting 30 seconds this made you feel better because you knew they should be one minute before thinking about going to the hospital.

You and Patrick sat in the stands, Patrick keeping a very close eye on you. He was scared shitless and it was obvious. The coin toss just happened art was serving first he saw you in the stands and gave you a smile and a quick wave. You did your best to not look freaked out.

The match was going well art won the first set and they were on to the second it had taken about an hour and you had three more contractions but they weren’t too intense. The two player just started the second set when you felt another one hit you like a train this time in your back too, you gasped grabbing Patrick’s forearm tightly. You looked at you,

“Y/n, Y/n is that another one? Y/n”

“Just shut up” you said through gritted teeth squeezing his arm so tight.

“Pat you gotta do me a favor and time them okay? How far apart they are and how long they last, please” you asked him letting go of his arm.

“Of course. But we really gotta go I think we should at least tell someone on Arts team or-“

“No! It’s almost done he needs to win this I’m fine, my water didn’t even break yet” you interrupted him trying to believe your own words, but as the day progresses you started to panic more. You knew it was the real thing now.

It had only been about an hour but it felt like a lifetime. Art lost the second set so now they had to play a third. Contractions had really started to pick up and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.

“Y/n that’s eight minutes apart. Stop this you have to go.” Patrick told you trying to be firm

“Don’t you want him to win!?” You said in a whisper yell,

“I don’t want you to have his kid in the stands!” He whisper yelled back. A few people around you probably cougt on but you didn’t care.

“It’s almost over. Your supposed to go to the hospital at five minute and eight minutes is not five minutes Patrick” you said clearly not budging on your plan. Patrick put his head in his hands, he was a mess, sweating pale you’d think he was the one in labor.

It had been another hour and the match wasn’t over. Luckily things hadn’t progressed to much probably because you were just sitting this whole time. Contractions were six minutes apart. You were in so much pain you couldn’t believe it. You were trying to hide it from everyone but it was becoming harder. Patrick was bouncing his leg nervously and it was driving you insane.

“Patrick stop.” You said glaring at him

“I’m nervous okay. This is crazy”

“I know it is. But can you just stop being so annoying because I’m nervous too. I’m about to give birth on live television at my husbands tennis match.” You told him, he looked at you realizing he should stop being a baby

“You’re right y/n I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be too much longer now. Can I get you anything a water?” He offered putting his hand on your knee.

“Yes please thank you” you patted his hand but before he could stand up the crowd went wild. To be honest you or Patrick weren’t paying attention to the match at all. You looked down at the court. Art had won. You totally forgot about how much pain you were in for a second seeing the confetti fall down to the courts

“Oh my god Patrick!” You smiled Pulling Patrick in for a hug

“He won he fucking won! He’s won the US open!” Patrick cheered, everything felt unreal until another contraction came crashing through ruining the moment

“Fuck Patrick get Art we gotta go now” you said clutching him to help keep you standing, he held you up until it was over

“Okay I’m going just hold on” he said helping you sit down, Patrick ran down the stairs leaning over the edge to motion art towards him art had just finished shaking his opponents hand than ran over to him while simultaneously looking for you in the crowd. You couldn’t hear what Patrick said you just saw arts face go into shock as he was frozen then Patrick hit his arm and art leaped over the bar into the stands. People were still cheering like crazy. Art found you in the stands and bolted towards you kneeling in front of where you were sitting

“Hey baby what’s going on?” Art said out of breath and panicked

“I’m definitely having this baby now” you said feeling another contraction come on Patrick was right behind Art. Now the three of you had caught some attention. Art looked shocked and confused

“Oh my good um okay I’ll- i um- I don’t hav e my car here fuck” Art stuttered looking like a mess still sweaty from his match and in shock that he’s about to have a baby

“We can take mine come on!” Patrick said both boys helped you up out of the seat. The crowd was still cheering and arts coach’s and team were looking for him, he would explain later. He didn’t care about giving a speech or doing interviews or any of that all he cared about was you.

You all piled into the car after making your way through all the people, people were shouting at Art cheering for him asking for autographs but be totally blocked it all out. Art sat in the back you were in the front,

“How long have your been in labor?” He asked leaning over the seat from the middle

“Since this morning, we’ll kind of last night” you admitted feeling guilty all of the sudden

“What!? Why didn’t you tell me y/n!?”

“I couldnt! You had to play, you couldn’t miss this match Art!”

“Well I can’t miss the birth of our child either!”

“Well you didn’t! And I knew if you knew I was having contractions you wouldn’t play as well, and I haven’t had her yet and you won so we are all winners!”

“Guys! Mabye you should focus on the big picture?” Patrick shouted interrupting you and arts disagreement

“Your right I’m sorry baby, I’m just surprised. Are you okay how do you feel?” Art asked shifting to a calming compassionate tone that instantly made you feel more comfortable.

“I’ve been better. I’m just happy you’re here now. I was starting to freak out I thought the match would never end” you reached grabbing his hand looking back at him he looked at you and smiled

“We’re having a baby y/n” he laughed kissing you. Just then you felt something pop, your legs became wet. Fuck.

“Shit I think my water just broke” you cursed looking at Art terrified, you saw Patrick grimace probably worried about his car seat

“Uh um. It’s okay baby we’re almost there just take deep breaths” Art said stroking your arm. Art was terrified but he knew you were too. He didn’t have time to freak out and he needed to be there for you in case you freaked out.

“Fuck I’m scared Art.” You whimpered you hadn’t even realized how scared you were because you were so focused on trying to get through the match.

“I know. Me too. But your already doing so great. I can’t believe you were doing this all alone”

“I mean I was there too” Patrick chimed in but you both ignored him

“Your gonna be such a good mom y/n I’m so proud of you my love” you spoke softly cupping your face. Another contraction ripped through you the worst one you’ve had yet you let out a gutteral moan grabbing Arts hand, you could hardly breath. You couldn’t talk through it, it was much more intense now.

“Patrick how far away are we?” Art asked trying to stay calm

“ like ten minutes but we’re stuck in traffic so I don’t know” he said also trying to stay calm

“I don’t want to have a baby in Patrick’s car” you cried as you felt the contraction coming to an end

“You’re not baby it’s okay we will be there soon” Art reassured but was terrified you might actually have a baby in his best friends car.

You had been sitting traffic for ten minutes and your contractions were now four minutes apart. You were arched off the seat grabbing your stomach trying to get through the contraction, Art looked like he was about to cry from seeing you in so much pain. Patrick looked angry that there was so much traffic.

“Your doing so good y/n/n, just keep breathing okay?” He said stroking your hair.

“Art what do we do?” You asked scared that the traffic wouldn’t let up

“We um we-“

“Finally!” Patrick yelled seeing the traffic break. Everyone sighed with relief.

You had finally made it to the hospital and were settled in a room laying down with Art kneeling by your head stroking your hair. Art sent Patrick back to let his team know why he left and make sure everything was okay. Your labor seemed to be at a stand still, no progress had been made since you arrived.

“Hey I never told you how proud I was of you champ.” You said facing your husband smiling putting a hand on his face

“Well you were kind of busy” he laughed kissing your nose

“Sorry we couldn’t celebrate”

“This is a pretty good way to celebrate are you kidding?” He chuckled

“We’re gonna be parents. Like tonight” you whispered sweetly to him he had tears in his eyes

“Thank you for going through this all baby I owe you everything” he kissed you.

It had been another hour. Very little progress had been made you were so frustrated and just wanted to get your baby girl out and hold her. They suggested walking around to help move the process along which was the last thing you wanted to do. But here you were walking around with Art right by your side. Another contraction came on and you helped in pain, your arms were around arts shoulders as you leaned down in pain. He held you up and swayed you back and fourth.

“I can’t do this anymore” you cried grabbing your husband for dear life.

“What can I do for you y/n how can I help you babe” he asked wholeheartedly

“Can you help me walk, I gotta hurry this up” you said breathlessly. Art came behind you and wrapped his arms under your armpits and walked with you, pretty much for you. You couldn’t ask for a better father of your child. He was the most supportive guy you’d ever seen. He would do this for hours for you.

Now you were settled back in bed exhausted. It felt like an eternity had gone by but then the nurse came in to check you.

“Alright your ready to push I’ll call the doctor in” she smiled. You were shocked and scared. You looked at Art

“What? I don’t I can’t I’m not ready I can’t-“yes you can y/n. I know you can. Your the strongest person I know you’ve made it this far I’ll be here the whole time.” He instructed you. You looked up at him with tears nodding.

It had been half an hour and you were still pushing not making much progress. Everyone could tell you were exhausted.

“Y/n cmon you have to push harder we gotta get this baby out” the doctor said

“I can’t … I can’t do it anymore” you cried feeling lifeless. Art didn’t say anything he just climbed in bed behind you and straddled you holding you up with his body.

“Now y/n push” the doctor told you again

“Baby look at me just look at me. You can do it only a few more than you’ll be able to hold Lily. Okay? You got this champ” he told you tears in his eyes too. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as you screamed in pain pushing as hard as you could. Art was holding you legs back with his arms around you.

“Good good, just one more y/n” the doctor told you

“Your doing so good darling just one more” art was in tears you couldn’t see but you knew. You have one more push before hearing a very loud cry

“Oh my god” you cried as they Laid your daughter on your chest

“Congratulations you have a little girl. “ the doctor smiled. Art was speechless and balling, he couldn’t believe his baby was here he was holding the love of his life who was holding the other love of his life that you two created together, it was a perfect moment.

“We gotta have more Art she’s so cute” you said crying harder every second, everyone in the room laughed,

“I can’t believe it y/n. Thank you so much thank you so so much” he said crying into your hair. He reached his arm around to the baby who grabbed his finger with her tiny hand. You both cried with joy

“Oh my god look at her fingernails” Art said still in disbelief “there so tiny”

“Art we have a daughter” you said to him as he kissed your cheek multiple times

“Does she have a name?” The doctor asked

“Lily” you both said at the same time smiling. You and Art decided on her middle name a few weeks ago

“Hi Lily Jane” you whispered kissing her head. You were so content with your family. All the pain and tears were 100% worth it.

Later on that night Lily was cleaned and wrapped up in a cute little blanket with a hat on in her dads arms next to the hospital bed asleep. Art was smiling down at her still teary eyed. After examining all your babies features you decided she was a clone of her father. She had your lips but his everything else. Even a little speck of brown in her blue eyes that made your heart swell. You had never been more tired but you also had never been happier.

“She’s so beautiful” Art whispered trying not to wake her up “I could look at her for hours.” He smiled

“She looks just like you baby” you told him, he looked at you then her and smiled

“ I don’t know I see you a lot in her too” he told you. Just then you heard a knock at the door and saw Patrick’s head poke through, he was carrying the trophy Art had won

“Hey I thought I’d bring this by” he said quietly “is now a good time?” He asked softly, you nodded and he came into the room

“Wow.” He said carefully walking over to Art staring at the baby in his arms “She’s uh wow she’s-“

“I know.” You finished knowing his was mezmorized by his niece.

“I’m so proud of you guys” he said speaking from the heart

“You wanna hold her?” Art looked up at his best friend

“Oh I don’t know she looks pretty comfortable”

“Oh come on she’s gotta meet her uncle.” Art said standing up and handing him the tiny baby. Patrick took a deep breath staring at her

“Jesus Art she’s your twin” he laughed “Let’s hope she doesn’t get your ears” he teased

“Yeah Pat your one to talk” he he teased back.

Patrick didn’t stay long it was getting pretty late. You and Art decided to announce it on his social media to fill everyone in on why he rushed out of there after winning. He posted a picture you took of him holding Lily in one arm and his trophy from that day in the other. He captioned the picture with

@ArtDondson:

I didn’t think my day could get any better… but it did. Welcome to the world sweet Lily Jane, she’s already our little champ🤍

Of course the post blew up and many people commented and reporters contacted him but he ignored it. At least for now. He had never been so happy with his life than in this moment. This day would go down in history for the Donaldson family.

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/721605644038389760/pregnancy-scare-with-fratpeter-what-would-he-do?source=share

Is there ever a pregnancy scare after they're in the girlfriend phase?

*cleaning out my drafts. mentions of pregnancy and a slight suggestion of abortion.*

you groan at the gentle shake you're receiving and you shrug it off while half awake. you're unbelievably tired and the small window of rest you got wasn't enough.

'trouble? c'mon, get up.' peter's hand comes down rough on your backside, you whine and roll over. 'but i'm sleepy-eepy.' the warmth of peter's bed is ripped away from you, he's holding the blanket in his hands.

'now i'm cold.' and while it's not peter's fault and he's only doing what you asked, you feel a little frustrated at the knowledge of not being able to go back to sleep.

'if you get up now, i'll shower with you. ten, nine, eight, seven... that's my girl, super proud of you.'

you might've woken up grouchy, but peter set your mood right in the shower and now you keep giving his arm little kisses. 'my handsome man.' peter speaks into your hairline, 'it's just a white shirt, you heathen.'

you softly dig your teeth into the thick of his bicep while his aunt has her back turned mixing up a side salad. you pull back without a trace and talk into his skin. 'and my man looks so yummy in it.'

'see? that nap energized you more than you thought.'

'that or your precious mouth and nice way you use it on me.' peter gives you a charming smile. 'you're on a roll tonight, trouble.' you wrap your arms around his and give a final mark, it's time to be a smidge respectful in his childhood home.

peter breaks away to refill your wine glass and top may's off. you thank him with a small kiss, may thanks him by asking him to grab rolls from the oven.

---

there's a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands. each time you blink it becomes more and more clear, you clutch your stomach as if you already had a month nine belly.

'fuck.'

what are you supposed to do?

tears fall fast, they hit your palms and positive test before you look around the bathroom. why are you alone? where's peter? you think of your boyfriend, you think of how royally fucked this makes things.

call it selfish but you wanted peter all to yourself for a few years and now you're jumping forward a hundred steps. 'fuck.' this isn't fair to either of you, you don't have it figured out yet.

you stare at the test one more time, you need to be sure. you close your eyes and count to ten, no matter how many times you try, the answer doesn't change.

'holy fucking shit, i'm-'

about to piss your pants. you fly up from the bed lightning fast, hightailing it to peter's bathroom before holding your head in your hands. you're drowsy and reminding yourself it was just a dream, but it felt so real.

but, no, just a dream. it's a dream because you're not pregnant. you just had your period... you just had it... it's only been... your stomach drops, why can't you remember? in four seconds you are wide, wide awake and you're going for your phone on peter's nightstand.

it's three in the morning and you haven't had a period in at least five weeks.

'peter, get up.' you're not soft spoken or gentle, you're full of terror and he's about to be too. you push at his arm roughly, it stirs him just enough you could break through the sleep.

'peter, get up right now.' a slow whine, you're not playing and his stubbornness is about to have you wake up the entire apartment complex. 'get the fuck up, peter.'

you're mean but it's the only thing stopping you from going full blown psycho and curling into a screaming, crying ball on his floor.

'peter,' you rush out his name one more time, this time he responds.

'what’s go-‘

'i think i'm pregnant and i'm about to freak the fuck out and i really, really need you to keep me from doing that right now.' it hits all at once, you try to breathe but you can't. it's peter's turn to fly up from the bed, he only goes as far as he needs to wrap you in a tight hug.

'trouble,' the name makes you sob, you really are trouble. 'shh, you're okay, we're okay.' it's not fair of peter to hold you calmly as if he's not scared shitless himself. 'we're so fucked, peter. i ruined everything.'

your mind is spinning and your boyfriend is keeping you grounded. 'nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked. we're okay, i promise we're okay.' no, peter's not thinking how you are. he doesn't understand what you just did to you both.

'i did, i really, really did. we just graduated, we don't live together, you're still waiting for that research position to open and my boyfriend slash baby daddy is going to die because he's also spider-man.'

it's all ruined. you don't even know what you ruined and that's the worse part, you ended it before it started.

'hey, trouble. one thing at a time, okay? we have time to figure it out if we need to. do we need to go get a test?' you nod, the idea of your dream turning into reality makes you want to sob.

'speaking of dying, i killed the last three plants ethan gave me. so, how nice is that? a dead dad and a mom who kills.' peter hugs you tighter, he wants to push all your suffering into him right now. you go one further, this is the final nail in the coffin.

'what if i'm not ready to be a mom?'

'we have time to figure-' he doesn't understand. 'no, what if i'm not ready to be a mom?' a soft kiss on your forehead tells you he read between the lines, it also tells you he doesn't resent you for the idea.

'i'm here for you, okay? i'm here for whatever decision you make and we'll figure it out together. we're a team. and i promise you, trouble, i'm not dying. kid or no kid, i won't let spider-man be the thing that does me in.'

you want this with peter, you really do. just... not now. a baby this young was never in the cards, you feel like you shouldn't be in this position but you played stupid games and won an unexpected prize.

'fuck. peter, i really think i might be pregnant.'

peter's being a strong front because you need it but he's just as unprepared as you are. 'have you been feeling sick?' you shake your head, you've felt normal until this very moment.

'i had i dream i was staring at a positive test and it felt so real that it woke me up and then i couldn't remember the last time i had my period so i looked at my phone and we're charting into week five.'

peter almost lets a curse slip, he contains it for you. 'okay, we're okay. i promise we're okay, we just need to make sure if you're pregnant or not. can you wait until morning or do we need to go now?'

peter using 'you' and 'pregnant' in the same sentence makes you want to throw up and you can't blame it on potential morning sickness. you're disgusted in yourself. this wasn't the timeline.

you couldn't last another few hours in this state, you'd go mad in record timing. 'now. right now.' in under a minute peter is stuffing a hoodie over your head and a shirt over his. you feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown but peter's outstretched hand tells you he's here for it.

---

'what if you resent me in like...' peter's already shaking his head, you can't put a date on it, what if it's now? 'wait, is it already happening? do you hate me?'

peter stops with you outside of the bodega right up the road from his apartment, he had been listening to your spiral the entire time with a calm demeanor.

'stop. i know this wasn't the plan and i know this isn't what we wanted right now but i don't want you thinking i could ever hate you or blame you for this. i wish i could make you feel better about this, trouble. i love you, i love you more than i have ever loved anything. i love you more than i thought was possible. i love you more than any song or book or movie could ever describe. and guess what? i'd love our kid just the same. shit, maybe even more cause you gave me one.'

is it hormones or is it because that's the best thing he could've ever told you at this moment? you crush him in a hug, he's a little surprised but holds you just the same. 'thank you.' for the first time since you woke up, you're able to breathe.

peter doesn't say you're welcome because you don't have anything to thank him for. he's doing what he'd do if this was however many years in the future and when it was a bit more planned. 'i didn't bring my wallet.'

peter scoffs, 'you think i'd make you pay for this?'

'i already feel like a burden.'

'trouble.' you bite your tongue, if peter can be nice enough to hold a poker face, you can stop telling yourself he secretly hates you. you need an answer and it lies inside the shop in a little box.

peter's holding the test, you couldn't bring yourself to touch it. you're standing in front of the refrigerator section staring at the drink selection, more than half focused on your reflection instead. peter catches on and taps your hand, you blink awake and look at three different cans before your brain hurts.

'what should i get?'

'whatever you want, trouble.'

'i can't think.' you can't. it's either total silence and dissociation or racing thoughts, you don't know peace anymore. if you're carrying his child, peter can pick a drink for you.

'hm. are you in the mood for something flavored?'

sweet. sugary. something to coat your mouth with a lasting aftertaste even if the news you were about to receive was on the bitter side.

'yeah.' peter nixes the three shelfs of water. 'carbonated or not?' too much of a choice, you shrug half-heartedly. 'i don't know.' peter looks behind him, a different choice entirely.

when's the last time you had an icee?

you don't notice peter walk off, you slipped back into staring at yourself in a baggy hoodie. if you jumped forward six months, how tight would it be?

peter grabs a small cup, looks at the clear-blue box in his hand and grabs a large one instead. a mixture of cherry and coke, it's nearly freezing his hand. it's going to be enough to keep your mind in the land of the living.

you find peter, lean against his back and close your eyes, he makes small movements and allows you to rest your weight on him. you're tired. mentally and emotionally. 'trouble?' you perk up again, peter halfway turns to hand over a frozen drink big enough for four.

'a slushie?' you give it a taste, you sip it down until your throat burns. 'heck yeah. and look at that, you love it.' he's not wrong. you can't remember the last time you had one and this somehow just made things a little better.

'it's making me feel better.'

'see? everyone needs some sugar now and then.'

---

for someone who made peter get out of bed at three in the morning and force him down to the corner store for a pregnancy test, you sure can't stomach the idea of taking it.

if it's a no, it'll be the biggest breath of fresh air you've ever had. if it's a yes, you and peter's life is about to forever change and you don't think you're ready for that yet.

you might not get peter to yourself for a few years, but you have him tonight and that's comfort enough. 'ready?' you intertwine your fingers with peter as he asks and pulls you out the front door. it's a quiet walk back sharing your cup of sugar before you silently creep back inside his aunt's apartment.

'ready to pee?'

you shake your head, peter offers his laptop up. ten minutes into a show, you have to go. fifteen minutes, it's pressing. twenty and you're about to burst.

you're not ready for the answer.

you'd be a bad mom.

'i drank wine tonight, peter. that's so bad, i'm such a bad person.'

'you're not a bad person, trouble. guess what? no one knows they're pregnant until they know. it's not your fault you kept living life how you normally do.'

you might've fucked things up but you chose the best person to do it with.

'i have to pee.' for just a teeny, tiny second- peter's guard faults. he's just as scared of the results, it fills you with solace. you're not the only one here who doesn't want this, even if he won't tell you so.

'want me to come with?'

you shake your head and don't even look at the box when you swipe it from his desk. your hand shakes as you tear the blue plastic, it's dawned on you that this is the first time you've ever taken one. you never thought you’d be here.

you hold your eyes closed while you do it as if the results would show immediately. you snap the cap back into place and hide it behind you. starting a five minute timer, you wait on the answer to the future.

poking your head out from his bathroom you clear your throat. 'counting down.'

'how are you feeling? still doing okay?' you nod, you're really thankful he has your back tonight. it's nice to know that when you're truly falling apart, he's your backbone.

'i love you.'

'i love you too, sweetheart.'

you've been so good and so brave this whole time, you haven't cried once. but that just broke you and you can't place why. you try to will away the sting in your eyes, it doesn't work.

a broken whimper and you can't hold it in anymore.

you fall apart and before you could collapse to the floor, peter's tucking you into his chest and kissing your head. 'shh, you're okay. i promise you're okay, you have me. you'll always have me.'

'promise?'

'i promise, trouble. don't you remember? i couldn't let you go if i tried.'

'i know you said to stop but i'm really sorry and i need you to know that.' peter feels his heart break, he must've done something wrong at some point to make you think he could ever be upset at you for this.

but peter thinks you need him to accept it. 'it's okay. i know you're sorry and it's okay.' you relax and exhale into him, you stop your tears because crying is useless and it's only making you feel worse.

'i'm being so annoying, aren't i?'

'not in the slightest, do you see how long it took you to cry?'

you sniff and wipe away any stray tears before giving peter a pathetic pucker. 'kiss, please.' you're granted the slow and soft kind, the one that is just pure care and adoration.

'will you promise to keep having sex with me if i'm pregnant?'

peter can't hold in his laugh, you hear yourself and giggle with him. 'i promise, trouble. you can get it anytime. i mean, you already do, but with my baby in you- you'll get absolutely anything you want, whenever you want.'

'even if i want cheetos at two in the morning?' peter thinks that's light work, he graces your cheek with a kiss of the same kind. 'especially then.' it's not always rainbows and butterflies. 'what about when my belly pops, my hormones hit the ceiling, my feet are swollen, i'm hot all the time, and i just constantly scream at you?'

'you wouldn't do that.' well, you're not planning on it but you have no idea what effects this will have on you. 'but if you did, i'd take it in stride. if i was carrying around twenty pounds that made me constantly want to piss my pants, i'd be grumpy too.'

'we're gonna be so tired.'

'we already are.'

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. 'what if i get stretch marks?'

'from growing my kid? couldn't think of anything sexier, trouble.'

it's not what was planned, but if this is how it'll be, you'll be okay. peter was right, you would figure it out. together.

'you have an answer for everything.'

'that's why you love me so much. you needed to find someone who could keep up with you.'

'and oh boy can you keep up and catch me.'

you match his smile, you feel good. you feel like things aren't so ruined now. 'it's my favorite thing to do.' you scrunch your nose up at him before giving a small jump to your alarm tone.

you end the timer. 'oh god.' that.

'don't undo what we just did. no more panic, we're okay with this, right? if it's a yes, we're doing this?'

it's terrifying to think you could be a parent in under a year but something tells you that you'll be just fine with peter by your side. 'yeah, we're doing this.'

peter nods towards his bathroom door, 'ready?'

for the first time tonight, you feel confident. 'yes.' you back up for the results, wrapping your palm around the middle until you're next to peter again.

you both take a deep breath and you finally get to see the answer.

peter exhales out, 'holy shit.'

your shoulders slump when you mutter out, 'thank god.'

'holy fuck, i thought my stomach was about to come out of my ass for a second. don't get me wrong if it was-'

'i was right there with you, petey. we could've figured it out but thank god we don't have to.' you hold a hand over your heart and feel calm wash over you. 'are we bad people for being happy about this?'

peter shakes his head. 'no, not at all. we're not ready for that yet, but now we know we could be.'

you think you're speaking for the both of you and you think it needs to be said. 'to be clear, we do want kids, just later down the road. and this was just a little scare but now that we know we don't want any right now, we should be a little more careful about how we do things, right?'

'a hundred percent, trouble. you said it before i could.'

'good.' you take another peek at the test, double confirmation. 'now can you please feed me? i'm famished.'

even if you weren't pregnant, peter would do anything for you.

'anything my baby wants, she gets.'

[mx-pastelwriting]

New Memories

Eddie Brock x GN! Reader x Venom

Summary: Venom only having Eddie's old memories to know what it's like to spend the night with someone, so you help them make new memories.

Warnings: Smut, First Time together, Cute Eddie, Venom Helping, Sorry if it's shit getting back into it!

Minors do not interact!

Getting out of the bathroom from a shower, you look over to Eddie, who had been working on the bed with his laptop before you went in, placing your eyes on him catching as he quickly looked back at his laptop screen. You smile, knowing he is trying to get a peek at you in a towel.

Dating only for four months while taking it slow due to his last relationship, you both never did anything, but that didn't stop you from dropping the towel. Feeling the cold air of the badly heated apartment, you went through Eddie's dresser, keeping some clothes in case of staying the night over. You slowly get dressed, wanting to tease Eddie a little.

"Ask them." A low voice whispers behind you, but it gets overpowered by Eddie's panicked whisper. "Stop it." Turning around to see Eddie swatting at Venom. "What happened?" You ask, making them both stop, but Venom sees his opportunity. "Eddie wants to-" Eddie stops Venom from saying anything further.

"It's nothing," he says, giving you a goofy smile while keeping his hand on Venom's big mouth. "ASK!" Venom shouts away from Eddie's hold, then goes back inside Eddie, leaving him to deal with his last words.

"Ask me what?" You say louder; the room went quiet, but it broke when Eddie sighed, "I know we wanted to take this slow, and I do." He pauses, trying to find the words, "Venom got too deep into my head and found stuff with Anne, and now he wants to." Pausing again making you impatient.

"Wants to what?" You say fed up. "He wants us to sleep together," he says, with his cheeks visibly starting to change color. "He wants to know what it feels like," he explains finally. "And you don't?" You ask while sitting on the bed with a raised brow.

"No, I do," he explains quickly, making you laugh. "I'm joking; I know you do; I've seen the way you look at me." You say, touching his hand moving closer.

"Then let's make new ones," you say, making Eddie perk up. "What?" He asks, but you smile. "Let's make new memories for him; I think it's been long enough." You smirk, moving to sit on his lap. "You gonna kiss me or what?" You say, smiling playfully, needing nothing more. He takes you in his arms, kisses your lips hungrily, feeling his rough hands under your shirt touching your warm skin.

Pulling your shirt up and over, giving him access to your bare chest, he lovingly kisses your chest while holding you close as if you were to disappear. As he draws kisses across your chest as his cock pokes against you, fighting against the fabric, taking pity, you grind your hips against it, earning a groan from him.

Digging your nails into his clothed shoulders as he pushes against making hold loose, making you lay back onto the bed, not following you, he towers over you while resting his hands on your hips while catching his breath. Taking in your body, he runs his hands to your bottoms, slowly pulling them off, then throwing them to the floor before kissing his way back up, loving every inch of your thighs, then using his tongue against you.

Moans bloom from you into the air as your mind quickly drowns from his mouth on you, gripping onto his shirt as your head digs into the pillow you cry, "Eddie." Working as an encouragement, his fingers find their way inside you.

Feeling as they curl inside you with another feeling following as something takes your nerves sparked them with pleasure, earning a new set of moans to sound from you as your mind mushed. Softly, you hit his hard shoulder as your body overstimulates, continuing with his fingers but parting his lips from you, moving up to your ear, kissing it softly before hushing you. "It's Venom," he whispered before pulling away.

Knowing it was Venom who invaded your body, taking over every sensitive nerve that made you a mess on Eddie's bed, you laid back, enjoying the alien's touch as you too watched through watered eyes. Eddie taking his shirt off, letting your eyes trail up his body, making your insides ache. Undoing his pants, not bothering to take them off fully, he pulls out his cock that twitched at finally being released.

Reaching out through your haze, taking his cock in your hand, feeling the hot tip as you massaged it, not stopping you, only tilling his head back moaning at your touch. His hips moved, fucking your hand as Venom dug further into your body, making your arms go weak, leaving Eddie's cock twitching in the air as you squirmed under him.

Taking your hips in his hands, he lines himself with you, then slowly fills you, taking in every inch while scratching an itch you didn't know you had. Both of your moans grew louder from the new-found pleasure. Your back arched as Eddie started his thrusts, fighting with Venom inside you to win over your insides.

Not caring for the fight, you only dig your nails into Eddie's arms while moaning out from your body being taken over. Quickly, your body ached to release from everything, but Eddie's moans only made it harder to wait for him.

Not being able to hold back, you came undone under Eddie. Watching as you came undone, his thrusts turned sloppy as he followed closely behind he cums digging himself in deep as his body threatened to collapse, holding you close as his head tilted back, struggling to call out your name.

Catching your breaths, he pulls out, leaving the warmth of your inside, to then quickly lay down next to you, kissing your cheek. He says nothing; he only looks into your tired eyes as they match his. "Again!" Venom says excitedly, but you both ignore him as your bodies try to recover from your first time together.

Sorry if it's shit. I don't know why it was so hard for me to write!

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @bimbo-bunni

[dc418writes]

Trial & Error

Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest

🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*

“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.

He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.

It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.

“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.

“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.

“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”

“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”

His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”

You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”

“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.

“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. “Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”

Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.

“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”

Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.

Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”

His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”

As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.

“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”

“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”

His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“I can warm a bottle.”

“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”

“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”

“By crushing me with your big ass?!”

You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.

Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.

“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.

He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”

“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”

A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.

Such a daddy’s girl through and through.

It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.

His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”

You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”

“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”

“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.

Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”

“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”

“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.

For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.

You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.

A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.

‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’

[unreliablesnake]

Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...

Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.

In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 

There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 

And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.

Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.

The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.

It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.

For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 

Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 

His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 

“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 

What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 

“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 

“Why, what have you done to me?”

He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 

Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”

Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”

His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 

“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”

Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 

So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 

“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 

You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”

Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[c4qwp]

felix catton x fem!reader

| you understand.

📎 tags : angst, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix be i'm such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, felix being a bit annoying but also a cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned, angst asfff

📎 author's note : don't hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn't my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

you would have seen it coming.

"i think we should break up."

so faint and uncertain, barely more than a whisper.

he looked uncomfortably hunched over, his forearms resting on the table, his breakfast untouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller than you, which was ironic considering you envied his nerves of steel, and of course he was smaller than you shorter It was a very embarrassing moment for a handsome man, but not this kind of moment. Never this weakness.

although the winter sun shines through the windows, the kitchen is still dark and the unpleasant feeling of unusual transparency is almost suffocating. felix isn't the type to get flustered in public, which makes you even more nervous, just when you think you've had all the training you need to imagine scenarios and possible breakup possibilities in every direction.

he didn't dare look at you, shaking his head nervously, choking silently. "say something."

howfunny that he's the best thing you know and can lift you up with one arm effortlessly ��� his biceps are literally the size of your head, but he says if anyone touches him, he'll cry right now.

It's also a hard pill to swallow, and it's not true that you did this to him, weakening him. you didn't know you had that much power over him yet; and he said he wanted to break, but if he actually said he did, he'd throw up. you shifted in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digging into your skin as your body became hyperaware of everything around you, turning your attention away from felix and crossing your hands in your lap.

the answer is on the tip of your tongue, where it has been hidden for months. of course you let him go, and what makes it easier is accepting his warning that half the things about him will be absent and secret, or knowing from the start that your time with him will be limited.

you just don't hesitate; completely overcome the first four stages of grief and begin to accept with ease.

felix catton was essentially ephemeral, either a dreamer or a visible absentee in the present moment of your life. you think of him as an outside cat who was never yours to begin with, appearing randomly and unwittingly when he wanted, a flighty, mysterious companion who was happy and eager to be around.

you don't know if he loves you so much. everyone loved felix. everyone wanted to be around him. the love was there, enough to last a long time, but you thought it was because you were secure and stable.

you were glad you gave him that, if only because you honestly weren't sure what he saw in you.

what was going on was easy enough to experience and because of that you didn't allow yourself to get too attached to him because you knew he didn't love you as much as you loved him. maybe you're kidding yourself, maybe you're sleepy and not as cool as you thought, but you're convinced that's the way it should be, the way it should be.

what's the point of realizing your name isn't at the top of his list?

are you even were you good enough for him? a feeling of insecurity has been itching you for a long time. you may have been beautiful and intelligent, but were you the first in his eyes?

you can't ever be mad at him. you wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. felix is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-brown hair doesnt shine like it usually does. he hasn't gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days because of his family's issues. time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his pub. wearing a white shirt, he looked very casual and didn't seem to beg to be singled out. feel sorry for him.

"alright."

he snapped his head up, his eyes immediately meeting yours, and they were no longer blank. he looked unsure if he had heard correctly and had a look of disbelief on his face. "wait what?"

your fingers traced the rim of your teacup, mimicking felix's eager movements. "you can start packing today, but if you want to stop today, i don't mind..."

"no, wait-"

"i said yes, felix."

he frowned at the name, his eyes looking away from you for a moment, and he had to blink, and you thought that not having your usual nickname had hurt him. He had to swallow before he could speak.

"and that's it?"

you don't know if this is an attempt to end your relationship or if you want to let him go easily. you do not get it. what can you say.

"what do you want me to say?"

he sighed, looked away, wiped his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. yes, not that your hopes are in vain. you have to say no.

he's as handsome as ever, but of course he'll want to know how comfortable you are, and he won't appreciate it when he changes his design. "i heard and will agree so we co—"

"aren't you mad at me?"

this is really what he thought first?

"i don't want to get upset."

"why...?"

"well, ..." because you love him, but talking about him will make it harder.

"i'm not sure. but we are both adult and need to talk like one. i think you and i have been very good together all along. I'm not mad at you for anything. understand."

he had such a subtle, sarcastic look on his face that if you were a complete stranger you would have thought it was sarcasm, but you knew better. He insulted himself. you can read it. but you should think about it. you should be mad at him. why the fuck is he upset. things about felix seem too good to be true, his only flaw is that he is a literal playboy. but of course stopped all his relationships with other girls, right?

"don't you want to know the reason? i mean, my god, why are you taking it so passively?"

"what do you mean?"

it's hard for you too.

"how can you not be so affected?"

"It's not like that. If you want to break up, i can't make you stay, or do anything you don't want to do. that's not fair to any of us. you will be with someone you don't want, and i would know im with someone who doesn't want me."

he shook his head, brown hair framing his face, which floated gently in the air. when he strongly disagrees

with something you say, but decides to say no at the last minute, he'll furrow his brows in anger and you'll feel a little disappointed because he's not denying that he doesn't want you. "you're always doing that, you're always doing that..getting mad. you must be mad at me."

"felix. I'm just tired of all this. you want to beak up and i said yes."

he just said, "I'm sorry,"

he hated it, that was all he had to offer you, and it showed on his face. sit in the chair next to him, you both need some good communication privacy right now. "but i have plenty of time to cry, okay?

"it's not like i'm accepting it or being negative or anything... and"

"grieving?"

his eyes search yours for a moment, the realization making him gasp and his eyebrows raise, making him look younger and more innocent.

looking forward to it.

"yeah, i mean.." pressing your lips together.

"look at us. in the long run, this doesn't work. It's not real. i don't know how we got here."

his pupils swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and he had never looked at you with such hostility until the hair on your arms stood up. "did you just think about breaking up?"

"why are you mad at me now? what have I done? you're the one who broke up with me."

"you weren't happy at all. haven't you always been sure?"

"i was and i still am. it's just...you've changed, felix. you're not looking at me like before. i don't know if it's because of me that you've changed but i was here for you every single time. but no mister doesn't want to talk so go to the pub and come back all drunk and doesn't give a shit about me. so yeah i was confused about a time and wasn't sure."

his eyes were finally on you. he called your name, repeated it. "i'm so sorry, love. i'm so-"

"no felix. i'm tired. so please leave me alone for a time and let's talk an other time."

there was a blank of 2 minutes. as you wanted to say another word,

"i understand."

[bisexualiteaa]

Okay so this has been spinning in my head since I watched the series and it might come across as a but of a strange one 😅

BUT, please could you write one where the reader is pregnant(by someone else), meets Cooper along the way and they hit it off, they go through the pregnancy together, they then in the end they raise this little baby together. Sort of cute fluffy and a lil smutty too. Thank you! ☺️

A Slice of Paradise

Cooper Howard x Pregnant! Fem Reader (SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the show, slight deviation from the game, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy hormones, blood, canon typical violence and gore, dirty jokes, cursing, talk of kinks, biting, 🩸 kink, p in v, unprotected seggs, p0rn with little plot, mention of knives, possible grammar/spelling errors, not proofread

AN: thank you anon for your request! My apologies that I’m getting to these asks so late, life has been rather eventful and I’m only just getting back into the swing of writing after forever long writers block. 🥲 I thank you for your patience and apologize that there isn’t a whole lot of fluff in this one but that it absolutely has ✨S P I C E.✨ Hope y’all enjoy my attempted return to writing for our dearest cowpoke, love you all! ♥️

Taglist: @expirednukacola

Trying to survive out in the wastelands while pregnant was not how you had imagined your life to be when you first found out that you were going to be having a baby. When you had first learned that you were pregnant, you were living comfortably within one of the vaults that dwelled beneath the irradiated surface. You had been matched with a fellow vault dweller who they deemed befitting in their mission to “help repopulate the surface” and in an effort to help your people, you agreed to the arrangement. The overseer, and all the other scientists and workers within the vault, claimed that there was no residence or anything living in general, up on the surface and that it would be up to you and your neighbors to fix that. Never in a million years did you think that vault life would go to such complete and utter shit that you would have to come to the surface in order to survive. Never in a million years did you also think that you would find anyone up here willing to stick by your side and not try to kill you in your sleep, and when you did, you had never expected your company to be that of a Wild West cowboy styled, bounty hunting ghoul. Needless to say, life up here was so vastly different than what they had spoken of in the vaults, that some days you swore it couldn’t be real, that it was all just one big fucked up dream that you’d wake up from any time now. But no, this was all very much real. If you made it out of this alive and long enough to see the world even somewhat recover, you were going to write a book on the long list of weird shit you’ve been through.

“I said, give me the damn supplies. NOW!” you spat angrily, pointing the barrel of your gun directly to a raider’s forehead as an extremely angry scowl came to rest across your face. “I suggest you do as the lady asks, kid. She ain’t someone you wanna mess with” Cooper spoke chillingly with a grin, knowing your pregnancy hormones were in full effect today, leaving you moody as all get out, and on days like this, you weren’t afraid to cause bodily harm, or worse, to get what you wanted or craved. Your baggy shirts hid your pregnant belly well, though you were only just now reaching somewhere around four months along, you still didn’t want strangers knowing you were pregnant. God only knows what people do out here to women with babies, and the last thing you needed was someone thinking it made you weak enough to take advantage of.

When the raider’s reaction wasn’t quick enough to your liking, you fired on him without a shred of remorse. Stepping past his limp, dead body to retrieve the box of supplies that you demanded for the bounty Cooper had completed, along with a healthy amount of caps, stimpacks and other supplies from off of his body. “It’s gon’ be one of those days, huh?” Cooper asked, taking the box from you because he might not be the kindest man, but he wasn’t about to make a pregnant lady lug a heavy box of supplies across the desert either. Granted, he knew it was probably wrong of him to insinuate what he had or to poke fun at you the way he was, the grimace and absolute apathy on your face as you shot the raider in cold blood gave him all he needed for his answer, but he knew all too well how to poke the bear, and enjoyed doing so far too much for your liking most days. “Yes. I’m fucking hungry, craving that stupid cram and he was pissing me off. Took too damn long to give us what we’re owed” you answered, your hand coming to your stomach as you complained. “We? That’s a bit of a strong word there, little lady. ‘Cause if I recall correctly, it was me who finished that bounty” he said, enjoying getting on your every last nerve on the worst days possible to do so. It was sadistic sure, but it reminded him of the days when his ex-wife was pregnant with their baby girl. In a twisted sort of way it reminded him of home. “You tryin’ to tell me you’re gonna leave a pregnant lady out in the desert all by her lonesome? Damn, I knew you were cold, didn’t think you were that cold” you joked back, making him laugh dryly. “Oh trust me honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet” he said, making you laugh. Thank god you were on his good side, you’d seen all the horrifying things he was capable of, or perhaps all the things he’s let you see that he was capable of. Regardless, you were glad he considered you a friend rather than foe.

Well, friend was a strong word once upon a time, but now? You two seemed to tread on a line somewhere between platonic and romantic, jumping back and forth between it like a tricky game of hopscotch. Though you could never be sure, like the rest of the ghoul, he was shrouded in much mystery. His heart and intentions were certainly no exception to that. “Woulda at least let the poor kid have a chance first, unlike you. So I guess you ain’t gettin’ that much farther behind me there, girly” he commented, making you chuckle at the remark and you supposed he had a point, you really didn’t give the raider enough time but your patience has been running thinner and thinner as of late. So you did as you always do, blame the pregnancy and what the hormones were doing to your brain, or make a snide joke at Cooper. “I’d blame the baby again for it, but maybe you’re just a bad influence” you quipped, making him chuckle dryly. “Honey, I am an awful influence” he replied, making you laugh as you both walked. “You aren’t so bad sometimes. But maybe it’s just ’cause you like me” you responded with a devious grin, making him shake his head playfully in denial. “Best watch it, my kindness’s got limits darlin’ and they get smaller and smaller everyday” he said, making you chuckle. “Likely story. I cook too good for you to kick me to the dusty curb” you teased, and it was true, you were too good at cooking but also too good looking to pass up. More personally, you were a reminder of the good ol’ days before all the wasteland bullshit started. A reminder of the family he once had. He craved oh so desperately to have that little slice of heaven back, and you scratched that itch in a near perfect way that he just couldn’t let you go. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was growing attached, and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew there was no helping it either. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if you felt the same way he did, you both could have a little family together once your baby was born. A daydream he often thought of, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping you safe as you both looked for a spot to shack up for the night.

As you made it somewhere safe, or as “safe” as safe gets out here for the night, you didn’t waste time making some food to keep you, the baby and Cooper fed after a long day’s travel. “That looks about as appetizing as a hog’s ass in swamp water” he spoke as he looked to your bowl filled with Blamco Mac n Cheese and cubed up Cram all mixed together in instant mash. “Don’t judge me, it isn’t me that’s wanting it so damn bad, it’s the baby” you replied, making him chuckle. Sounded exactly like what his ex-wife used to say when she had some outlandish craving when she was pregnant. “Besides, that’s coming from the one that eats people” you quipped as you horked down your entire bowl with lightning speed, making him tilt his head to the side. “Touché” he responded before turning your way when he caught you standing up out of the corner of his eye. He watched as you rolled your tense shoulders and attempted to massage your lower back to relieve the ache that began to culminate there but with the displeased look on your face, it appeared your efforts were fruitless. You hobbled over to sit by the fire, finding yourself walking rather funny from the ache in your feet and the tension throbbing in your tight calves. “You’re a walkin’ hot mess there, girlfriend” he teased, watching you squat to sit down next to him as you attempted to rub your back once more with a pained hiss. You gave a defeated, and equally pained, groan after chuckling at his quip. “Tell me about it. Had I known I’d have to manage up here, I’d have never gotten pregnant in the first place” you replied, rubbing your stomach after your hands once again could not provide you the relief from the tension your body craved to be freed from. “How far ‘long are ya now?” He asked, and you genuinely had to sit there and think about it for a moment. You figured with the way you were only really just starting to show more prominently that you were just about four months along, but you couldn’t honestly remember no matter how hard you tried. “What day is it?” You asked genuinely, making him laugh. “Shit, you don’t even know. That’ll be one hell of a surprise down the road when it pops out at the worst possible timin’” he joked, making you chuckle. “It’ll be a blessing, to finally stop carrying around the extra weight right on top of my bladder and allow some other things to shrink down a little bit maybe” you said, making him hum in amusement.

“I think it looks good on you. Plump is hard to come by these days and you sugar, got one nice lookin’ peach” he said shamelessly, making you laugh as he talked about your ass. “That why you like makin’ me walk in front of you all the time?” You asked with a grin, making him grin. “Can’t say it ain’t one of the reasons” he replied, making you laugh. “Careful, hormones are one hell of a thing to mess with when you’re talking to a pregnant lady. Suggest you don’t go starting something you can’t finish there, Coop” you threatened playfully, making him chuckle at your response. “Oh I can finish it, don’t you worry. It’s you that wouldn’t be able to keep up with me, sweetheart. ‘Specially not like that” he said, making you grin and give an intrigued hum at the challenge he was presenting you with. “Ain’t no love makin’ up here baby-doll, it’s straight up fuckin’. Sure we take our time with it, make ya feel good because it ain’t easy to come by, but it ain’t nothin’ like that soft vanilla shit you vaulties do” he said, making you grin as you leaned back on your hands and you saw the way his eyes almost immediately roamed your body. From your neck, down to your full tits that seemed to have gotten a little bigger since last time he looked at you real good, then to that cute little bump in your tummy, down to your hips and thighs that he just wanted to get a nice handful of. He wondered how soft you would feel in his rough hands, if you’d like the contrast. “Oh yeah? Think I don’t have kinks and shit like that just ‘cause I was in a vault? Can promise you some of us “vaulties” get our rocks off in similar ways to you wasteland folk” you responded, waiting to hear what his rebuttal would be. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He asked, watching you grin to yourself as you gave a soft chuckle. Normally you would never forgo this type of information about yourself, but it was a whole different world up here in the wastes, and this was a whole different you from that woman who came stumbling out that vault just some few months ago.

“Well, obviously one of those kinks is what got me pregnant in the first place” you started, making him chuckle because despite it not being anything crazy, it was still a little more interesting than some. “I like being choked, but I feel like everyone likes that one so that might as well still be vanilla” you said, making him laugh because you were right, that shit isn’t a kink up here, it’s standard practice. “So you think you like it rough, huh?” He asked as he pulled out his hunting knife, cleaning it while you both conversed oddly casually about kinks. His question made you blush a bit, it caught you off guard that he put two and two together so quickly. “I don’t think, I know I do” you answered truthfully, making him grin. “Hell, I bet you ain’t seen rough. I’d reckon you ain’t ever been manhandled by someone or used as a means of blowin’ off some steam” he said, looking at his reflection in the knife and watching the way you looked at him as he handled it. You might have thought he missed it, but he noticed the subtle way your thighs clenched together as he fiddled with it and talked about you being used and tossed around like a rag doll. “I have, just not…well, it wasn’t very good but they at least tried I guess?” You said, almost as if you were asking him and not telling him, making him laugh. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me? ‘Cause you sure as hell don’t sound so sure anymore” he replied, making you sigh. “Fuck it, who am I kidding? It was fucking awful. It wasn’t at all what I wanted it to be” you quickly admitted, making him hum in reply. “I will say…you’ve made me discover a few new ones since we started traveling together” you said almost nonchalantly, and that most certainly caught his attention. “Oh yeah? And what might those be?” He asked, genuinely curious of what he could have done to awaken something in you. “People in my vault were afraid to be rough, whether during sex or not but you aren’t and I like that a lot about you. I know you probably think I’m joking when I say I like “rough” or think I have no idea what rough entails but I do. I like being tied up, having knives involved, and getting manhandled and stuff like that” you said, making him chuckle at the very innocent seeming you, admitting to liking dangerous things. “That so, vaultie?” He asked, not wishing to admit just how much your bashful admission had gotten to him and instead was thankful for making you roll your eyes at the nickname to avoid catching sight of the issue beginning to grow in his pants at all the ideas now rummaging through his brain like a rampant wildfire. “That why you like starin’ at my knife each time I use it? And why you didn’t protest when I tied you up when we first met?” He asked, and you were almost mortified at his question, knowing now that he’d noticed all the times you’d sat there, infatuated by the way he used it. Embarrassed that he caught the look in your eyes the first time his fierce ones met your own as he bound your wrists together and walked around with you like a prisoner on a leash. “Yeah…didn’t think you caught me on it though. But enough about me and my kinks, how ‘bout you? What about sex with you is so different, huh?” You asked, trying your best to move the subject away from you but your question was like the cherry on top of his fucked up thoughts, making an evil grin stretch to his lips as you laid the perfect opportunity out for him to take.

“How ‘bout you come and find out for yourself, sugar?” He asked, taking you off guard by his advance, but you couldn’t deny the way it sent a surge of heat straight to your core at such a straight forward answer. The pregnancy hormones had been eating you alive lately, making you stare at him in ways you shouldn’t have, thinking about him in ways you knew you shouldn’t. Old you would have kicked yourself for thinking the way you had been and allowing yourself to seem so desperate, but you two were close enough at this point. It wasn’t as if you were stooping low enough to just fuck some random stranger. Well, scratch that, you sort of did that already because that’s how you wound up pregnant in the first place. Thanks Vault-Tec. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong, or seem so desperate of you after all. He chuckled at your look of shock at his reply, making you blush in embarrassment that you were nearly frozen, unsure of what to do or what to think when you normally always had something to sass him back with. “C’mon now, surely ya didn’t think this wouldn’t end up happenin’ did you? We been layin’ it on thick with each other f’ too damn long now to play that game” he said with such confidence, it almost pissed you off but you couldn’t be mad, not when the pregnancy hormones made you so incredibly horny for this man that you could hardly think of anything else. Your mind was swimming at all the ideas of what he could be capable of, what he had the potential to do. You were left truly wondering just how different, and possibly how much better of an experience it would be with him rather than the last time you’d had sex. You wondered if it would really be any different than what you and your fellow vault dwellers were accustomed to or if maybe he was talking up a big game to get you interested. Regardless of whether it was talk or not, it had the effect on you he was hoping it would, because now you were past the point of pretending you didn’t want to find out, you needed to know. You felt as your core began to ache, excitement beginning to collect in the pit of your stomach as your panties grew damp at all your dirty thoughts. “Honestly I…I-I didn’t know it passed your mind like it has been on mine” you admitted with a deeper blush, making him chuckle as he moved closer. “So ya do think of me? Well ain’t that cute” he replied. “Hard not to think about you like that when I’m watchin’ them nice big hips sway whenever you walk in front a me” he added, making you chuckle as your cheeks burned about as hot as the campfire. “I haven’t uhh…I haven’t *done anything* since I got pregnant so, I’m not really sure how to go about it but, if you’d be willing, I’d like to find out just how different it is to be with you” you said so sweetly, almost innocently and damn it if it didn’t make him feel some type of way. He chuckled to himself a little. “Looks like you’re in luck then. Even luckier that it’s with someone who’s got a little more experience in this field than the average hit ‘n quit” he said, and that’s what stopped you for a moment. Was that all that this was going to be for him? A one night thing to settle some curiosity, then go right back to the way things were? After all this time spent traveling together and getting close to him, you didn’t want that to be the case. It was in that moment you’d realized just how much you genuinely cared for the ghoul who was in your company.

“On one condition” you said, making him raise a non existent brow at you, curious to hear what you had to say. “It’s more than just a one time thing. I don’t…I don’t do flings. Call me a “deluded little vaultie” for it or whatever else you want, but I only want this if you want it to go somewhere, even if it ain’t anything more than a fuck buddy situation” you said, and truth be told he wasn’t completely sure on what he wanted. He knew it had been a long time since last he had a chance to do something like this with someone, and that he liked you but he also knew the thing going on between you had been going on for long enough, why not see where it goes? “Trust me sugar, if you’re still here travelin’ with me, ain’t none of it gonna be without somethin’ behind it. Had you asked me when we first met? I’d have told ya different, but against all better judgement ya managed to get me attached to ya. This is me tellin’ you to pay your consequence for bein’ such a damn tease all the time” he responded with a grin that relieved your every nerve, his hand coming to grab yours and moving it to the tent in his pants to prove his point, making you grin and chuckle. “Didn’t know I get you that worked up” you replied teasingly as you moved closer. “Imma let you in on a simple rule I like to live by, little lady; you cause it, you fix it” he said, and you grinned as you grabbed his hand, pulling it to slide beneath your shorts to rest outside your panties that were getting wetter and wetter with your excitement. “Looks like you got some responsibility to take too then, cowpoke” you said with a grin, and that’s when he knew this would lead to something good.

You smiled into your shared kiss, shocked to find the slightly chapped, thin irradiated lips to feel so nice against your own. It wasn’t sweet like the kisses you’d had before, it was carnal, passionate even. Driven by pure lust and god did it make you melt. Your hands came to rest on the back of his neck as you straddled his lap. Your knees were dug into the sand beneath his sleeping bag without a care in the world as his hands groped your ass and sensitive tits. You moaned as his lips and teeth soon worked at your weak spot on your neck, making you roll your hips against him as your eyes fluttered shut. You held onto him as you rocked your hips back and forth, earning a groan from the ghoul below you. “Fuck, Cooper…please” you whined, making him pull away from your neck to click his tongue at you. “You can beg all you want, but I ain’t skippin’ over the good parts just ‘cause you’re gettin’ antsy” he said with a grin up at you before popping open the buttons of your beat up flannel shirt and latching onto one of your breasts, sucking on the sensitive bud. You normally were self conscious of the fact that you’d foregone wearing a bra in favor of comfort, but in this moment you couldn’t be more thankful that it was one less article of clothing to worry about taking off. You moaned as his fingers toyed with the other side, pinching harshly as his teeth would occasionally nip at your perked bud or the soft skin around it, but being sure to give your tits equal love and attention. Rather shocked that you hadn’t yelped or drawn back at his rougher display to your overly sensitive nipples, he continued. “Fuck…” you whined, feeling as one of his hands dragged down to the waistband of your underwear, before working his hand beneath it to your clit. His fingers worked tight circles along your aching bud, leaving your head devoid of all thoughts as he brought you the pleasure your body had been craving for ages. You hated the way you felt so close to your impending release already, having been pent up since even before leaving the vaults, and now that you were pregnant, you were even more sensitive to it all. “Oh god, Cooper…” you panted out, your strained, pleading voice like music to his ruined ears as you moaned his name. “Doin’ good for me sweetheart” he praised, only adding fuel to the fire that was ready to consume you at any moment.

You moaned blissfully at the pleasurably painful stretch of him working his way inside of you finally. God how you ached for that feeling, to be stretched and filled in ways nothing else could give you other than him. “Damn you’re a tight little thing” he commented, already moving and setting a pace without giving you time to adjust. It was bliss, the painful draw out but the pleasurable thrust back in. You just couldn’t get enough. “Normally this is where I’d throw you around and fuck you absolutely stupid, but last thing I want is t’ hurt that baby” he said, making you wish you could know what it felt like to be used by him, to be thrown around and taken by him but you knew you couldn’t, not yet. “Maybe I’ll just give ‘em a sibling instead, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” he asked in your ear in a low rasp as the sound of skin slapping skin started to fill the air. A pleasant, tingling shudder ran down your spine at the prospect of it, clearly he hadn’t forgotten that first kink you’d told him about. He gave a grin, feeling the way your walls fluttered around his dick from his words, and seeing the effect it had on you left him nearly feral. Guess you weren’t lying when you said one of those kinks of yours was the reason you were pregnant. “Yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” He asked, knowing the answer but he loved the way he had you absolutely cock drunk on him too much to not try and hear from you. “Yes! Fuck, I’d love that, please!” you said through your moans, making him chuckle. “I betchu would” he said all smug and proud. “Bet you get off on the idea ‘f fuckin’ someone who could rip you t’ shreds, dontchya sugar? Ya like it dangerous” he said, making you shake your head yes in reply. “Yes! Fuck- Cooper!” You moaned into the midnight air, your back arched from the ground as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your high. “Look good like this, sprawled out below me all helpless and vulnerable. I could just eat you alive” he said with a sadistic grin, his lips just below your ear, his breath ghosting your neck as he rocked his hips into you. “Bet you’d taste so fuckin’ good” he added, groaning through gritted teeth as he watched your engorged tits bounce with each harsh thrust, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your soft, smooth skin. “Why don’t you- fuck! Have a taste and find out?” You replied, making him look up at you with a wild look in his eyes. It was untamed, feral even and by god if they weren’t the most magical words he’d ever heard. “Shit, don’t play with me” he said, looking at your neck and shoulder, practically drooling over the idea of how you would taste. “I ain’t playin’, bite me” you insisted, and with that, he surely wasn’t going to pass down such a beautiful opportunity.

His blunt teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss as a white, hot pain coursed through the muscle before simmering into something more pleasurable. “Shit! Cooper- fuck me, that feels good” You moaned as he almost seemed to use his teeth to attach himself to you as he rutted into you with reckless abandon, leaving you writhing beneath him in pleasure. His eyes rolled back as a moan left him from the taste of your blood flooding his tongue, you were even more delicious than he originally anticipated. Crimson coated his lips and teeth, a small stream even leaking from the corner of his mouth and down the column of his neck as he detached himself from you. He’d gotten his taste, given you an experience you certainly wouldn’t forget, but the sight below him was certainly one he would forever commit to memory. The imprint of his teeth marks that marred your otherwise perfect skin, deep purple beginning to blossom around it as blood faintly trickled down your chest from the fresh wound. If you weren’t delicious before, you were absolutely delectable now. He ran his tongue along the trail of blood, the hot, wet muscle leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he traveled back up to the source before laving his tongue across the punctures in your skin that he left. “Freaky little thing” he said, grinning at the way you had enjoyed feeling him sink his teeth into you and allowing him to taste you in such a manner. “Told ya” you quipped before being cut off by your own moan as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you, brushing past it with almost perfect precision. “Right there! Fuck, just like that. So close…” you whined, making him chuckle. “Go ‘head sweetheart, let go for me” he permitted, and with that, the coil in your core snapped, sending you toppling over the edge into an orgasm so earth shattering you swore you were no longer on this earth in that moment. Cooper was quick to withdraw from you, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet way your gummy walls would hug him as he came inside of you, but he couldn’t bare the thought of putting that precious baby of yours at any more risk. For now he would have to settle on finishing on you rather than in you, but the sight of you covered in his cum was surely another marvelous one to behold in his eyes. From the way your eyes sat lazily half lidded, to the way his seed looked upon your chest and stomach, he had to admit, it certainly wasn’t a sight to complain about.

You both took a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasms, coming down from cloud nine to do your best at steadying your breathing. The gentleman he was, he helped in cleaning you up, offering you some Rad Away to take when you were finally able to pick yourself up from his sleeping bag. “Sate your curiosity?” He asked with a grin as he slipped his pants back on and his duster, lighting up a cigarette to enjoy as he sat next to you. You gave a laugh as you redressed. “Sated my curiosity for tonight, but never know what these hormones have in store for me tomorrow” you replied, making him laugh dryly. “Suppose I can’t argue with that logic” he said, making you giggle as you took the Rad Away and got ready to sleep, thankful for the warmth his body provided in the frigid temperature of the desert night air. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring for you two, but at least you knew it was something you both could grow to explore. Maybe that slice of heaven wasn’t such a distant memory after all.

[creedslove]

SLEEP BLISS 💤

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you and Joel used to share a sleeping bag when you were on the road. Once you got to Jackson, he made sure to put an end to this habit, but now his nightmares are back to haunt him again and he needs your help

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of masturbation, probably out of character Joel but I don't care I just want my big bear Joel to be happy and safe

1.5k words

As Joel stood at the door watching you get ready for bed, he scratched down his neck while he felt so stupid.

But it wasn't just a feeling, he was stupid. That was the problem.

You took a while to notice him there, he'd been extremely silent and several times he thought of giving up that idea. He had an internal battle going on, so ashamed of asking you that, but at the same time he really needed it.

You saw him standing there, dark circles around his eyes, he looked exhausted and even a shade paler if someone asked and you knew exactly why.

The nightmares were back.

It pained you to think of how much he suffered to get something simple such as a night's sleep, you also had nightmares of your own, everyone did in an apocalyptic world like the one you lived in, but you just knew Joel's were somehow worse. He was tortured by his own subconscious, everything all at once, all his memories, regrets, broken dreams, broken promises, broken heart.

He often mumbled Sarah's name during his sleep, and it was followed by whimpers, the ones Joel would never let out in front of anyone, not while awake.

And you knew that because you watched his suffering for the last couple of months.

While traveling together to Jackson, you two ended up sleeping together.

Sleeping and sleeping only.

Never had sex, Joel never touched you in that way, despite a few occasional boners you felt poking your back when you woke up, but you couldn't really blame him for a good old morning wood.

You wouldn't deny you wanted Joel to touch you in that way, but you knew he wouldn't. He was a distant guy, no matter if you two knew each other since the QZ and went through a lot together, he always kept to himself, and you knew better than to push his buttons.

You cared for him, and he cared for you, but he wasn't that kind of guy and he was old enough to know that if he crossed the line, things would be an even bigger mess than they were.

He decided to share the sleeping bag with you when you were both out in the open and he couldn't stand you chattering your teeth all the time, how you tried warming your hands and how you had to place sweater over sweater and still you couldn't warm up enough to sleep.

He'd never seen that before. Even during summer nights, when the breeze cooled down, you still had chills and needed a blanket.

He tried to tell himself that the situation pissed him off, but in fact, it made him sad. He didn't like seeing you suffering and decided to keep you warm.

What was supposed to be one night, became two, three, four… and it lasted through the whole trip.

Joel's plan was to never repeat that again, but when he fell asleep that night, he didn't have any nightmares.

And neither during the other nights you slept together.

As much as he enjoyed having a peaceful slumber, he also saw how flushed and giggly you were when you woke up.

How you rested your hands on his when he held you and how before bed you always rested your hands way too close to the waist of his jeans. You were a lot younger than him, but you were a woman nonetheless and a beautiful one at that matter, and it was easy to get tempted.

And that was why, the first thing he did when you both arrived in Jackson, was to put an end to this dangerous habit.

At first, he didn't even want to share a house with you, and he rudely suggested that you find a place on your own.

You'd looked at him with sad, disappointed eyes, but agreed.

However, Joel went soft and when he saw you were packing your bags, he apologized and said he'd prefer to have you there, for safety matters, he quickly added, but stood by the decision of you having your own room.

You respected his decision, you couldn't complain and you also enjoyed having your own bedroom, you could decorate it as you pleased, have your own privacy and God knew how much you needed it when the memories of the nights you spent curled up to him, hit you hard and you had no other solution than to bury your fingers deep inside of your aching cunt and pretend it were his instead.

You didn't question him, but each passing day you noticed how he got darker circles around his eyes and at night you always heard his heavy steps pacing around the house, unable to sleep.

You wouldn't deny him help, but you wouldn't offer it either, the fear of getting a hurtful reply was bigger, besides, it was his decision to take his distance and you couldn't lie at the fact that you did feel hurt.

You finally raised your eyes at him and saw the discomfort in his face, you could swear he had made up his mind to talk to you about just to give up and then decide to do it all over again. He was a proud man and that must've been a terrible situation for him.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" You broke the silence, knowing it would only take him just a couple of seconds more to give up and go back to his room, but you didn't want that, you wanted Joel there, you wanted to feel his weight, his warmth and his rough, big hands.

"I-uh…" he started with awkwardness though he saw it was pointless to lie "yes…" he was ready to get in bed when you told him to stop.

"If you want to sleep here, it will be on my terms, Joel… Undress!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?" He immediately replied, looking at you rather shocked.

"Joel, come on… we're not on the road anymore, we're safe, we're sleeping in a warm bed, it's not like we need to be in our jeans in case we gotta get up in the middle of the night to run or fight" you explained him when quickly got rid of your shorts, standing only in a loose shirt and your panties.

Joel swallowed hard and didn't even try to hide when he checked your body out, you felt a soft flush spreading across your cheek but smiled "it's nothing we haven't seen when we were bathing in the lake" you reminded him.

If he wasn't so exhausted he could've just argued and told you to fuck off, but instead, Joel got rid of his shirt at first, revealing his broad chest, strong arms that unblocked his belt and dragged his jeans to the floor, until he was standing there in his boxers only.

If he hadn't been embarrassed to look at you, you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed to look at him, and you did it, for quite a while, eyes lingering especially on his crotch, where you could swear you could see the shape of his cock.

You didn't look him in the eyes though, instead, you got under the covers and waited for him to do the same.

Joel let out a groan once his body met the comfortable mattress and covered himself.

You scooter closer and snaked your arm around his waist

"Relax Joel, it's just me," you reminded him. You relaxed as you rested your head on his chest and kept rubbing his naked skin with circular movements, massaging his tense arms.

"The nightmares are back, you know…" he said embarrassedly "I didn't want to bother you, but I can only sleep decently when you're around" you were shocked at his confession, Joel wasn't one to talk about stuff like that, but you understand he probably didn't care at all at how exhausted he was.

"You smell good, darling… you always did, even when we were on the road…" he smiled gently at you, which made your heart beat faster, you cupped his face and traced his jawline with the tip of your fingers.

Suddenly, all the anger and hurt you felt when Joel told you to take another room faded and you smiled, nuzzling his neck gently and stroking his soft, curly hair.

"Sleep Joel" you whispered to him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Slowly you could feel the tension in his body dissolving and he drifted off to sleep.

In the early morning, you woke up to Joel clung tight to you. You had your back to his chest, his heavy arm on your hips, preventing you from getting up. You gasped the moment you realized what was poking your back was his erection.

Alright, his boner was definitely harder to ignore without the thickness of his jeans shielding it, but you didn't complain at all, it felt so good to feel him that way.

You could've got up to make you and Joel breakfast, but you gave up, closing your eyes and snuggling, going back to sleep in Joel's arms.

_____

A/N: idk i just love Joel

[hopepetal]

Hi! It's been a while, hasn't it?

@applestruda, @periwinklemoonlight, and I have been working on arc three of the boatem knights au for quite a while now. We hope you enjoy it :)

At the moment, the second chapter is not ready for posting, so it won't be out for a while.

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

His nightmares hadn’t gone away.

Feathers rustling in the wind, Grian gazed up toward the night sky. Sighing heavily, he glanced back toward Pearl’s tent. She had offered for him to join her many times– avians were highly sociable after all, and often slept in the same nest– but he’d refused. He wouldn’t want to wake her up as well.

It didn’t make sense. 

Dreams of a desert, of cold silver skin, of red eyes and names and flowers and blood. And every day they’d gotten worse. More vivid.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something Grian had the energy to figure out right now. He needed sleep.

He stood up and walked back to his own tent, and settled down for what would be another restless night.

And he hadn’t woken up the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

Or the day after that. 

The first day Grian slept through, Pearl hadn’t been too worried. With how bad her brother’s insomnia could get, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to not get enough sleep during the night and then make up for it during the day. She’d checked in on him, of course, and smiled softly at the sight of him curled up in his blankets, wings resting on either side of him as he smushed his face into the pillow. 

“He probably just had a rough night,” she mentioned to the others during lunch, “I wouldn’t bother him.”

Mumbo looked up, frowning slightly. “Hasn’t he mentioned having nightmares for a while now? Maybe that’s what’s been keeping him up.”

Pearl nodded, wings fluttering anxiously behind her. “Yeah. The last few months have been rough on him.”

“I think it’s from all the building we have to do,” Scar piped up. “Trying to finish the lodge has been a nightmare.”

“We’re almost done!” Pearl argued, optimistic as ever. “Just a little more, then we’re all set!”

Mumbo slumped back in his seat, letting out a soft huff. “Can’t we just leave it as is? I think it’s perfectly well done.” 

Scar raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “I think you just don’t like building, mister.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, though he was unable to hold back a grin. “Well, it’s certainly not my favorite activity. I’d much rather be–”

“–working on your redstone, we know.” Impulse chuckled, shaking his head. “Unless you want to be buried in snow by the time winter comes around, we probably shouldn’t be calling the lodge ‘perfectly well done’.”

Mumbo grumbled a little at that, much to the amusement of the others. “Look, I’ll do my tasks and everything, but I’m not happy about it!” 

Pearl laughed, leaning against the table. “You gotta weigh your options, mate. Either build the lodge now, or be wet and freezing during the winter. Which one would you prefer?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

The knights quickly finished lunch after that, making small talk as they cleaned and put away the dishes. The leftovers from lunch were stored away for later, placed in the shed they had built a while back so that the wild animals wouldn’t be able to get into their food.

“Same duties as earlier?” Impulse asked Pearl as they all made their way to the half-finished lodge. 

Pearl nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t see why we would change them. I’ll take on Grian’s duties on top of mine, though I can’t promise I’ll be as fast.”

“Good thing we’re so ahead of schedule, then!” Scar piped up. “It’s a lot easier to focus on one thing instead of a whole bunch of tiny tasks.”

Pearl laughed, her wings fluttering in amusement. “That, and we’re all insanely fast builders. Who would’ve thought?”

Impulse grinned. “Well, I’m just naturally good at everything I do, so I’m not surprised.”

Laughing and joking, the four went about completing their tasks. The sounds of construction filled the air, conversation occasionally popping up alongside it. As the day progressed, it began to get hotter and hotter, construction slowing down as it did so.

Finally, the sun began to set, and their long day of work was called to an end by Mumbo. It was just routine at this point– the knights would work until the sun began to set and then they’d all gather at the west end of camp to watch the sun go down. Mumbo was always the quickest to put away his tools, and today was no different. Impulse and Scar went to join him, while Pearl slipped off to go check on her brother. Just as she had expected, he had barely moved from his sleeping position, only shifted slightly in a likely effort to get more comfortable. She pulled up one of the ottomans, settling down next to his bed. 

Reaching out, Pearl gently brushed some hair out of her brother's warm face, smiling slightly. “Heyyy, Griba,” she murmured, softly so that she wouldn't startle him if he wasn't fully asleep, “you doing alright, mate? You've been asleep all day.” No response. He must've been really out of it. “Well, I brought some food and fresh water. It’ll be on the side table for when you wake up– you must be pretty hungry.” She sighed softly, leaning back. “Well, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, Griba. I love you.” 

Standing, Pearl quietly left the tent and joined the other knights to watch the sun finish setting. She settled down next to Scar, leaning against him with a sigh. The grass was soft against her skin as she sat and tried to relax, breathing in the fresh air and exhaling the anxiety that was building in her chest. Her whole body ached from the exertion of a day spent building, and the cool night air that brushed against her skin and wove through her hair was a welcome relief from the end of summer heat. 

Scar glanced over at Pearl, giving her his signature crooked smile. “How’s our sleeping friend holding up?” he asked.

Pearl sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly. “Still sleepin’ the day away,” she answered. “I dropped off some food and water in case he wakes up and needs something. I'm glad he’s getting rest, though. I think I’m gonna keep him from helping us work on the lodge for a bit, though. It can’t be good for him to be exhausted and pushing himself like that.”

“Agreed.” Impulse stretched before running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding his horns. “It’s hard work we’re doing here, man. Kinda wish Skizz could’ve stayed a little longer to help out, but I guess a man’s gotta do his job.”

“And Tango’s been busy,” Scar added, “apparently he's workin’ on a super secret fly-ification project, whatever that means.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Pearl laughed, Impulse nodding along in agreement. Mumbo’s attention seemed to have been caught by that, and he perked up.

“A project? Do you think he’d let me take a look? I know he had mentioned a few things about combining redstone and engineering and really, it was quite fascinating and we had a truly intriguing discussion on…” Mumbo trailed off, noticing how Pearl and Scar were just staring at him. “...well, Impulse gets me!” he flusteredly got out, and the others began to laugh. 

Impulse smiled, chuckling. The light from the setting sun reflected off his piercings, causing them to shine when they caught the light. “That I do, buddy. That I do.”

Mumbo blinked. “Well. Alright, then.”

Pearl stood as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, stretching her wings as the shadows began to grow over the land. “I don’t know about you, but I am absolutely exhausted. I’m heading off to bed. Good night!” She spread her wings and took off, flying low over the ground until she reached her tent. She landed softly, ducking into her tent and changing into her night clothes– soft blue pajamas with stars and little crescent moons. 

Sleep called her name, and Pearl felt the weight of exhaustion pulling her down. She climbed into bed, settling on her stomach and wrapping her arms around the soft pillow. She’d just barely closed her eyes before sleep descended like a soft blanket, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

When Pearl woke, her limbs still somewhat sore from the day before, she went to check in on Grian before she started her morning chores. He wasn’t up, which meant he hadn’t woken up during the night and stayed up until dawn (again). Pearl was still a little concerned nonetheless, and rushed through her morning chores so that she could go check on Grian. 

When she peeked into his tent, her worry increased at the fact that he hadn’t touched his food or water, and had barely moved from the sleeping position she’d last seen him in. “Griba?” she called softly, “Griba, hey. Are you up?” Upon receiving no answer, she carefully crept forward and placed a gentle hand against his head. 

Oh, no.

Grian had a fever. 

“Griba.” She gently shook him. “Griba. Grian. Grian. Wake up.” Her voice became more frantic as her brother continued to be unresponsive, anxiety spiking in her chest as she tried to wake him. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t do this, Grian. Please.” 

Still, nothing. 

Pearl’s gaze went to the side table, and she stumbled over, grabbing the pen and some blank paper that had been sitting there. Quickly, she wrote down a message to Cub, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she did so. 

Cub,

I’ve been sending quite a few letters lately and I hate to bother you once more, but Grian is sick. He isn’t waking up, and he slept all through yesterday as well. When I checked on him this morning, he was burning up. I’ve tried waking him up, but he hasn’t even responded. 

Please come as soon as you can. 

Pearl

She began folding the paper as she ducked out Grian’s tent, almost running into Scar as she did so. “Ah! Oh, mate, careful!” 

Scar laughed softly, pressing his hands to his chest. “You scared me, Pearl!” he retorted, taking a moment to calm himself down. He caught sight of the paper in Pearl's hands. “Sending another letter, are we?” he asked. “More moth mail?”

Pearl, despite the anxiety she was currently feeling, had to smile. Rolling her eyes, she responded, “We’re not calling it moth mail, Scar.” She closed her eyes and breathed out, pushing her magic into the paper. It took the form of a moth, glowing with enchantments, and flew off. She was quiet for a moment with Scar as they watched it fly off, before sighing. “Grian’s sick,” she told him, “and he’s not waking up. I was just sending a letter to Cub to ask him to come up and check on him.”

Scar frowned, humming thoughtfully. “And this isn’t just Grian being Grian?” he asked, but Pearl shook her head. 

“He’s not waking up, and he’s running a fever. Which, if he was even responding a tiny bit, would be fine, but he’s not even– it’s like he can’t hear me at all. Normally he’d at least have woken up a little and smacked me away or something, but…” Pearl shook her head. “Nothing. He was just… sleeping.” 

“Should we let the other two know?” Scar asked, gesturing with his head over to where Impulse and Mumbo were. They were working on the lodge once more– Mumbo, struggling to walk with the heavy materials and Impulse, carrying as much as he could and encouraging Mumbo on with a smile and kind words. 

Pearl nodded, already starting to walk toward them. “Absolutely. C’mon, mate!” 

Scar jogged over until he was walking by Pearl's side. “Hey! Mister Mumbo Jumbo! Impulse! Hey!” he shouted, waving his arms over his head. “Over here!”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head slightly. “Scar, no need to shout. They’re right there.” Her wings fluttered anxiously behind her as they approached Mumbo and Impulse. “Hey, you two.”

Impulse set down the logs he had been carrying, and Mumbo did the same before collapsing into the grass. “Heya Pearl,” Impulse greeted, “what’s up?”

“Not good news, unfortunately.” The mood sombered up as soon as those words left Pearl's mouth. “Grian’s sick, and he’s not waking up. I sent a message to Cub, but I’m gonna run to the village real quick to grab some general medicine and such. I meant to get some on the next trip, but…” She trailed off. “Clearly, we need them now.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Impulse offered, to which Pearl shook her head. 

“I’ll be flying. It’s faster that way.” Pearl glanced over at Scar, who had joined Mumbo in the grass. “Can you three keep watch over Griba and the camp while I’m gone? Oh, and keep an eye out for a response to the letter I sent to Cub– it’ll be coming back as an enchanted moth, you know what they look like. I don’t think he’ll be sending you a response this quick, but better alert than caught sleeping.” She coughed slightly. “Uh. Excuse the irony of that wording. It’s just a phrase.”

Impulse nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, Pearl. We’ve got things handled here. Go and get the medicine.”

Scar stood, helping Mumbo up as well. “Yeah! We’ll stop working on the lodge for a bit while this whole thing is goin’ on. Grian’s more important than a building, anyway.”

Pearl heaved a sigh of relief, smiling softly. “Oh, thank you all. This means a lot.” She stretched, spreading her wings and fluttering them slightly before relaxing. “Right. I’ll be off then. Stay out of trouble, ya hear?”

Scar saluted. “Aye aye!” 

With that, Pearl took off, flying over the camp and toward the village. Worry settled uneasily in her stomach, squeezing her chest as she tried to not spiral into an anxiety attack. It would not be good to do that while flying, she figured. 

Grian would be fine. Grian would be– he was fine, he was just sick and once he got rest everything would go back to normal. They’d continue building the lodge and get it done before winter and then they’d move on to their next adventure. 

Yeah.

Everything was going to be fine. 

In a house surrounded by much more greenery than the canyon that it sat in, Cub was working on a very dangerous project. 

Well, it wasn’t dangerous– as long as he took proper care when he was around it and made sure to wear protective gear, of course. A mask fit snugly over his mouth and nose, and he wore elbow long gloves with his lab coat sleeves tucked into them to make sure there was zero possibility of the subject of his experiment touching his skin. 

Holding up the blue-green mold (sculk, the book had called it) up to the light with a pair of tweezers, Cub squinted. It appeared to almost have a sort of heartbeat, he noticed, as it pulsed rhythmically. It might’ve grossed some out, but it made Cub grin. This was so exciting. He had only heard of sculk before, from ancient books and harrowed miners who had narrowly escaped death. To be able to study it like this, up close… it was a dream come true.

Cub jotted down some more notes with one hand, holding up the sculk with his other hand. His attention divided, focus solely locked in on the things he was writing, it was no wonder he got startled by the enchanted paper moth that landed on his desk. He dropped the tweezers with a loud swear, the sculk landing in his lap. No matter– he simply picked it back up with his gloved hands and put it back into its container, sealing it away. He then carefully unfolded the moth, recognizing instantly Pearl's handwriting. 

He frowned as he read the letter, before sighing heavily. “I really can’t leave them alone for five minutes, can I?” Glancing back down at his desk, Cub bit his lip, weighing his options in his head. He really had to finish this current experiment in a certain time frame, and Grian was a healthy man (and a Watcher, besides!). He’d be fine if he had to wait for a little while longer. 

He went and wrote a response on the back of the letter Pearl had sent, chuckling slightly at how his handwriting compared to Pearl’s. 

Pearl,

I’ll be there as soon as I finish up what I was doing. I assume it’ll take me quite some time, so I’ll head out early tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on Grian, give him some medicine and try to get some fluids into him. 

Don’t panic. Remember what I’ve been telling you in our letters– take a deep breath, calm yourself, and try not to let your thoughts spiral. You’re doing a great job. 

Cub

He carefully folded the paper back up, watching as the magic Pearl imbued into it activated, and the moth sprang to life before fluttering off in the direction it came from. Cub’s sharp eyesight caught the moment it burst into purple sparks of magic and sped off into the distance– “moth mail” always fascinated him. It was clearly a concept Pearl had either made up or been taught, and he’d have to ask her some more questions about it later. 

But for now, the sculk called his name. 

It took a little longer than expected to finish up the experiment, but Cub always stayed true to his word. The next day, he woke up with the gray light of dawn and gathered his things, taking care to lock his door before leaving. 

The sun began to rise as Cub started down the familiar path to the camp.

You know how this story goes, by now. 

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

Pearl did her best to follow the advice in Cub’s letter– give Grian fluids, take deep breaths, try not to spiral, try not to spiral, try not to–

She was fine. She was fine. 

…which was why she ended up breaking down into tears when Scar asked her how she was feeling, and felt his arms wrap around her and pull her close. “I’m– I’m sorry, I just–” She gasped for air, squeezing her eyes shut tight as hot tears cooled on her skin. Her hands were trembling as she wrung them together, trying to lean into Scar’s calming presence. 

Scar gently shushed her, carefully patting her back between her wings as he tried to soothe her. “It’s a stressful situation, Pearl,” he murmured, his voice quiet and comforting. “It’s okay to be scared. Did you wanna send a letter to Jimmy or something? I’m sure he would be more than willing to come on up for a little bit to help out.” As he spoke, he pulled away from the hug and summoned Jellie, setting the furry blue familiar on Pearl’s lap. “Pet the Jellie. You’ll feel better.”

Pearl smiled weakly through her tears, beginning to gently stroke Jellie’s fur. She felt the tension begin to leave her body as Jellie started purring, her breathing evening out as the cat curled up on her lap. “No… no, Jimmy worries more than I do, I don’t think it would be good to stress him out over this… because it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.”

Scar nodded. “Right you are, Pearl. It’s gonna be just fine. G’s just taking a big ol’ nap right now, sleepin’ off that nasty fever of his. Give him a little longer and he’ll be just like new. Cub will help him out and then he’ll get rid of that darn sickness in no time!”

Mumbo, who was sitting nearby, leaned forward. “Scar is right, you know. This isn’t the first time one of us has come down with a nasty illness of some sort. Grian just needs a little care and rest, I’m sure!”

Pearl nodded, taking in deep breaths as she continued to idly pet Jellie, wiping stray tears from her face. “Thanks, Scar. Mumbo. I needed that.”

Scar smiled reassuringly, giving her a thumbs up. “No problem, Pearl.”

Mumbo simply nodded, smiling. “Of course, mate.”

It wasn’t long after that Cub finally walked out of Grian’s tent, his expression kept carefully neutral. “Hey, you three. Pearl, could I speak with you?”

Pearl nodded, anxiety spiking once more as she prepared herself for whatever Cub was about to tell her. “Yeah. Of course. Scar, do you mind…?” She gestured toward Grian’s tent with a slight nod, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Scar in the grass and handing him Jellie.

Scar jumped up as well, brushing off his pants before taking Jellie and quietly dismissing his familiar. “Of course, my dear Pearl! I’ll keep a close eye on G.” Scar ducked into Grian's tent, going to take a seat on the ottoman that had remained pulled up next to Grian’s bed. He settled himself down, letting out a soft sigh and leaning forward. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Y’know, G, this isn’t funny anymore.” Scar swallowed dryly, licking his cracked lips. “I’m all for pranks and stuff, but this is going too far. Pearl’s upset, Mumbo is worried, Impulse is trying to keep the other two calm, and I’m…” He shook his head. “C’mon, G. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word. “Please.” 

No response. Of course. Grian was asleep, why would he respond? 

“I mean, really. It's like you’ve been cursed or something,” he weakly joked, before the thought really hit him. Could Grian have been…?

Scar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shifted into his vex form. 

The smell of magic, powerful and wrong, was so strong Scar nearly gagged. He stumbled back, eyes widening as he realized that the magic was coming from Grian, wrapping around his body and curling around his throat. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Scar approached Grian and knelt by the bed. Reaching out, he carefully opened one of Grian’s eyes with his hand. 

Purple. 

Grian’s eyes were glowing purple. 

Scar felt the magic suddenly recede, drawing into Grian like the water being pulled back into the sea. With a sharp inhale, he stumbled back, shifting out of his vex form as he burst out from the tent. “Guys!” he yelled, “guys, something's wrong with–!”

Grian’s magic exploded outwards.

Pearl screamed, lunging forward as she shifted into her Watcher form, wrapping her arms around the only person close enough for her to protect– Mumbo. The two fell to the ground, surrounded by a translucent magic shield that glowed in blue and silver hues. All around them, purple magic swirled and raged like a storm, and all they were able to do was watch as Impulse and Scar collapsed. 

Cub was pushed to his knees, vex form flickering as his own shield began to crack around him. The magic howled in a screeching voice, swirling around Cub’s shield in an attempt to break through and take him as well. 

“Pearl–!” Mumbo cried out, clinging to her tightly. He was pressed against the ground and could hardly see past Pearl, but what he could see terrified him. Pearl’s shield was beginning to give under the incessant pushing of Grian’s out of control magic, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Pearl bit out a sob, holding Mumbo close. The strain of fighting against her brother’s magic had her gasping, grabbing for any and all energy she had to pour into the shield around her and Mumbo. Raising her head, guilt and fear filled her chest as she caught sight of Impulse and Scar, limp on the ground. She could only pray that they were okay. That they were alive. 

The magic like raging wind reached a peak, screaming so loud Pearl’s sensitive ears ached. And just like that, it was over.

Pearl, Cub, and Mumbo were the only ones awake when their shields came down.

All across the realm, Grian’s magic reached out and pulled others into a deep sleep. A king and his hand, alongside his best soldier. A huntsman. A time wizard, armorer, and a friend of the nearby innkeep. A man who guided others through the mountains. An avian, netherborn, and a man who sold flowers. 

One by one, they were surrounded by purple magic, angry and screaming and wanting. And one by one, they all fell asleep. 

Grian woke up to impossibly familiar faces and one objective: survive. 

He pushed himself up from the ground, shaking his head slightly to clear the fuzz as he looked around at the gathered group. “Welcome to Third Life,” he greeted in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, with words he wasn’t sure how he knew. “You all have three lives. Once you lose your last life, you are out.”

Confusion and concern echoed from those around him, and Grian raised his voice. “When you are on your last life– your red life– you will become hostile. All previous alliances will be broken.”

A deep breath.

“Good luck.”

[somedaylazysomeday]

Dreams - Part Four

After your conversation with Jareth, you experience yet another restless night.

Jareth x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,300

Warnings: Sleeplessness, suggestive language, themes of being trapped, ominous warnings, masturbation (interrupted), sex toy use, negotiation, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, discussions of boundaries.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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You had avoided sleep that night for as long as you could manage. 

Yes, according to Jareth, the labyrinth’s hold on you was already too strong to fight. You would continue being pulled along those stone corridors until you found yourself unable to leave them. And, honestly, you didn’t want to look too closely at how your life would progress after that point. 

It may have been a losing battle, but what was the alternative? You had never been one to meekly let someone control your life. Not parents or friends, jobs or partners. And certainly not unbearably cocky Goblin Kings and their labyrinths.

But in the end, you would have been better off sleeping as early as possible. Rather than the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the labyrinth, the only thing that greeted your eyes when you fell asleep on your couch was darkness. 

You woke up a few hours later, neck aching from the awkward angle your head had fallen into and confused to see your ceiling rather than the orange sky over the labyrinth. 

You sat up - groaning and massaging the muscles of your neck as you did so - and tried to process what had happened. Dreams of the labyrinth had been unrelenting since your last meeting with Jareth. And now that you had met him again, they had stopped? 

No. You didn't trust it. 

When you reluctantly went to undress and brush your teeth, you had the strangest sensation at the back of your sore neck. It was almost a…tingle. A faint buzz. Your first instinct was to blame it on Jareth and more fae nonsense, but you eventually had to admit that you had energy for the first time in weeks. Not as much as you needed and certainly not enough to fully restore you, but it was better than nothing. It was almost enough to give you hope. 

With that tender and delicate hope filling you, you climbed into bed and settled under the covers. Despite feeling more rested than you had in a while, you still found yourself dropping quickly into the abyss when you closed your eyes. 

Only to find yourself utterly exasperated when you started to dream. 

“What could you possibly want?” you demanded, rounding on Jareth. 

To his credit, the Goblin King looked surprised for only a moment before his expression changed to pleasant blankness with a glimmer of distant mischief. “Well, if you’re offering…”

“I’m not offering anything,” you shut down immediately. “But we already spoke today, which is more interaction than we’ve had in months. Earlier, I had some blissful sleep without any interruptions. Why am I dreaming of you now?” 

“I would think the more pressing question would be why you are not dreaming of my labyrinth.” Jareth tipped his head to the side and you could only be glad you were in a dream. If you were in the real world, a movement that dramatic would have left everything in a five foot radius coated in glitter. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the redirection, but it was something you were curious about as well. “Fine. Why am I dreaming about you and not the labyrinth?”

“Your dream of a horse and its potential rider. Until I have managed to reach the responsible party, you will not dream of the labyrinth again,” Jareth told you. He managed to sound simultaneously unruffled and irritated by that. It was a neat trick. “But its hold on you will not lessen.” 

“Fascinating,” you said flatly. “And now, for the second time: why am I dreaming of you?” 

“Perhaps you missed me,” he suggested with a sly smile. 

“That’s not it,” you assured him. “But honestly? I’m less concerned about figuring out the cause than I am with finding a solution. I want to end this so I can get some sleep.” 

“One moment, my little champion.” You glanced back at Jareth expectantly, having already started walking away. “As it happens, this meeting is fortuitous. I have more information about your mysterious dream.”

You stared at him. “I don’t really need to know a horse’s name.” 

“I agree,” Jareth told you easily. “Names hold power. But if you are in the labyrinth and hear hoofbeats, run.” 

“I did that and it didn’t help very much.” 

He continued as if you hadn’t spoken at all. “And if you hear hoofbeats when you are awake, immediately go inside the nearest building. Call a taxi or take transportation to your destination, but do not walk long distances. That would be a wise choice in general: minimize your time outdoors, especially when you are alone.”

By that point, your interest had been piqued. “It sounds like you know exactly who or what the horse is.” 

“I have my theories,” he said darkly. “An old enemy, intent on interfering with my plans. Yet until they take official responsibility for the attack on you, I cannot make any official moves in response. So we wait.” 

You nodded slowly. Someone working against Jareth’s plans for you could be useful. From everything you remembered about the fairy stories while you were growing up, there was no such thing as a true fae ally, but perhaps the enemy of your enemy could indeed be your friend… 

“Whatever you are thinking, pet,” Jareth interrupted, voice cracking harshly across your skin, “stop. If the one behind this attack is who I believe it to be, they are far more likely to kill you than help you escape me. You are of no use to me dead - they will have no such reservations.”

“Fine,” you agreed, feeling unsteady at the idea that being involved with Jareth against your will had lined up enemies against you. Talk about being kicked when you were down. “So, run when I hear hoofbeats, or get into the nearest building. No walking long distances outside, especially when I’m alone.”

“Precisely.”

Silence fell thick and uncomfortable. You shook your head sharply, pulling yourself back to the moment. The motion attracted Jareth’s attention as well. “Well, this has been an enlightening and incredibly disconcerting meeting. Thanks for that, I guess. Will you please stay out of my dreams now?” 

“I already told you, I am not the one who brought us together,” the Goblin King said. 

“Fine, then I’m going to try a second time for dreamless sleep.” You turned away. “Bye.”

“Are you certain you wish to do that?”

You stopped short, suspicion rising in you. Turning your head slightly allowed you to keep Jareth in your line of sight. “Why?”

Jareth stepped closer, motions deliberate. Of course, you were back in the nothingness where you had been the first time you met with him in a dream, so it was hard to gauge how far away he truly was. “Do you not wish to take advantage of this time? I cannot help but remember the last time we found ourselves in a position like this one.”

You gave an inelegant scoff, trying to impart the full strength of your disbelief only through an expression. “How can I even begin to list the reasons that would be a terrible choice on my part? I’ll start with the lack of sleep, continue with the light stalking you’ve been doing for the past few months, and then… Well, considering how sleeping with you worked out for me the last time…”

Jareth listened patiently through your refusal and explanation, waiting until you had stopped listing things to counter. “There is nothing more I can gain from our being together. Other than the pleasure of being with you, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed sarcastically. “Why should I believe that?”

“Because I cannot lie to you, of course.” The gesture he gave was flourishing and entirely unnecessary. “And, much as I despise leveling accusations toward your so-impressive independence… I know that you need me.”

“To what, exactly?” You planted your hands on your hips and watched him take another subtle step toward you. “To ruin my life in even more creative ways?” 

He lifted one elegant brow. “How could your life possibly be ruined by someone whose presence you hardly notice?” 

“Your ego cannot be the reason you’re tormenting me right now.” 

“As if there is anything more important.”

You sighed sharply. “Okay, if it speeds this conversation along, I’ll bite: why do I need you?”

Jareth grinned, exposing a pearly flash of those unnervingly sharp teeth, and took a final step toward you. It closed the space that had once existed between you, and you found your heartbeat picking up at the overwhelming closeness of him. 

“You need me…” he drawled, pausing to draw a slow breath through his nose, “to satisfy that desperate ache deep inside of you. And as for biting? Do as you please.”

You did your best to ignore the filthy smirk he gave you with the invitation. Instead, you took stock of your body. Jareth was a first-class asshole, but he had a direct line to your libido. You had been too exhausted to get together with anyone since the ill-fated encounter you’d shared with Jareth, and you were feeling the lack of physical contact. Still, you would have to be stupid to fall for that again. 

But nothing said you couldn’t mess with him a little.

The duck of your head hid any mischief that might have otherwise been apparent and made you look flustered. You were fine with that. “I can take care of any aches by myself.” 

“Can you?” he asked, voice silky. “I think you fall short of it. Your fingers can’t reach where you need me, and toys only stoke the burn. Am I correct?” 

He took a half-step closer, pressing against you. The feeling of his hard length against your hip made you swallow loudly, irritated by the heat that ran through you at the sensation. That heat was stoked even further as he slotted a leg between yours. “I’m sorry, pet, I didn’t hear your answer. Am I correct?”

“I… shouldn’t,” you admitted softly. “There are things you don’t know about me. Important things.” 

“Mmm?” Jareth hummed, lips pressing just above your ear. The low laugh he gave made you shiver, chills running through every inch of you. He shifted, putting pressure on a very sensitive place with his thigh. “I know everything there is to know about you. I have made a point of it. There is nothing you could possibly have hidden.” 

“That’s not true,” you told him, though it was gasped out with a helpless moan as his teeth nipped at your neck. “You don’t know the things I did after I ran your labyrinth the first time.”

“What did you do?” he asked, sounding intrigued. “Tell me, sweet.” 

“I spent a lot of time thinking about you.” Your head fell to the side as Jareth applied stinging pressure to your skin. “And even more time… practicing…”

Jareth pulled back, mismatched eyes studying your face with intimidating intensity, heat dancing over his expression. “Practicing what?” 

Your eyes were hooded as they met his, a smile curving your lips. Your hips gave a instinctive little rock, grinding your core against the solidity of his thigh. “Lucid dreaming.”

And then you drew every ounce of strength you had, dredging up the memories of the lucid dream training you had done - on your own and encouraged by a therapist during your college years. With an incredible strain, you wrenched yourself awake. 

Even with the high of triumph, there was no getting around it: you were uncomfortable.

You were swollen and wet, which was particularly frustrating, since you had changed the sheets when you had gotten home from the coffee shop. But if that was the price you paid for making Jareth’s life less pleasant, it was one you were happy to pay. Hell, you were tempted to get yourself off. You were ready enough. In fact…

You didn’t bother turning on a light - you knew how to find everything you needed by touch alone. The top drawer of your bedside table had always been reserved for toys, and you refused to be embarrassed about that. The exhaustion of the labyrinth dreams had kept you from finding someone to sleep with, but you still had to meet your own needs. 

A pump of lube for the toy - a generously endowed rabbit vibrator - and another to increase the slipperiness of your own folds, then you were ready. When you pressed the vibrator into yourself, your folds parted easily to admit it.

The toy speared deeper and deeper and you reveled in the way it stretched you. When it bottomed out inside of you, you paused to let yourself soak it all in. You were tight around the silicone shaft, the ‘ears’ of the rabbit vibrator pressing firmly against your clit. And then you switched it on. 

The best part about that particular toy was that you didn’t have to manipulate it overly much. You didn’t get a lot from thrusting it inside of yourself, but it had the perfect curve to press against your g-spot and the clitoral stimulation was delectable. You could just insert it, set it to a vibration pattern you enjoyed, and ride the wave of sensations until you came to a gasping climax around it.

You were well on your way there already. Much as you hated to admit it, the meeting and subsequent flirtations with Jareth had left you keyed-up and ready to go. The toy was only finishing something that had already started. 

One hand kept the vibrator positioned exactly where you needed it while your other hand rose to play gently with your nipples. The additional stimulation made you clench, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm soared ever-closer. Your head tipped back, eyes closing as you tried to breathe and stay quiet at the same time. 

Your fingers slipped from the toy - your grip impossible to keep with the wetness coating the silicone and your fingers - and then it was gone. You floundered your way upright, still reeling at the edge of orgasm and looking around in search of the vibrator. With the darkness of the room, you couldn’t see it… but you heard it hit the wall with enough force that you were worried about the drywall. 

“What the hell-?” 

Greedy lips descended on yours, your mouth filling with the taste of glitter and magic. You lost yourself in the kiss for a moment, meeting the questing tongue with rhythmic presses of your own, but you soon freed yourself with a punishing nip against a plush bottom lip. 

“What are you doing?” you demanded. 

Jareth’s hand dropped from his mouth, returning your glare with one of his own. “Do you really think I am incapable of finding you? I would think you understand by now-”

“Yeah, yeah, blood and magic,” you summarized. “But why are you in my room?”

“Because you need me.”

Your brows rocketed upward. “Need you? No. I had everything I needed until you took it away. By the way, if you broke that toy, I’m going to be furious. It’s my favorite.”

“Your loneliness calls to me, little mortal,” Jareth said. Some trick of the moon outside your window illuminated him just enough to see the way his eyes had changed to that otherworldly fullness, one eye drowning in black depths while the other burned in green fire. “Despite your clever trick, we are not finished.” 

“I think we are,” you countered. 

Jareth groaned, sharp and violent and impatient. “So uselessly stubborn! I cannot leave you until you are satisfied. I have taken your needs under my care.” 

You squinted at him. “Is that an actual fae thing or something to do with your pride?”

“Perhaps I have simply decided to atone for the sleepless nights you’ve suffered alone,” he suggest. 

“Perhaps I’ve realized that, when you use ‘perhaps’, you’re trying not to lie.” 

He sighed. “You should spend less time analyzing my motivations and more time considering my offers.” 

“I haven’t heard anything tempting enough to accept your offers,” you countered. “So far, your main argument is that you would have sex with me as a gesture of goodwill. Well, I don’t accept. I’m perfectly capable of meeting my own needs - especially if you didn’t manage to break my favorite toy. But you haven’t offered anything I’m truly incapable of getting for myself.”

Jareth bared his disconcertingly sharp teeth at you. Somehow, the expression seemed less intimidating than ever-so-slightly amused. “Very well. What would you like in return for allowing me access to your delectable body?”

“Other than a limit to such cannibalistic wording?” you pressed. “To start, it wouldn’t be unlimited access. One-time access for a pre-specified amount of consecutive time-”

“My, we are laying out terms rather carefully,” Jareth murmured.

You ignored him entirely. “But in return, I want… I want dreamless sleep.” 

“No.”

“That’s not how you bargain.” 

Jareth smirked. “I am a king. Bargaining is not an overly well-developed skill of mine.”

“Hard to believe you have enemies who want to kill me,” you said dryly. “Let me help you out: you give a counteroffer that’s closer to what you actually want.”

“I want permanent access to you in every way at all times.” 

Your mouth fell open, then closed long enough for you to take a deep breath and push it out. “No.” 

“I am given to understand that is not how one should bargain,” Jareth told you helpfully.

“I want you to leave me alone, never see or speak to me again, and I want to never be touched by magic again for the rest of my life.” You crossed your arms, only then realizing that your sheets were dangerously close to exposing your legs and the fact that you were unclothed below the waist.

“Impossible,” Jareth told you, a single flick of his eyes telling you that he had noticed your attempts to subtly pull the sheets up and your shirt down. 

“Then we are apparently at an impasse.” You flicked your fingertips at the door of your bedroom. “You can go out the same way you came in. I’ll expect a new vibrator if you broke mine. Goodnight.”

Jareth didn’t move, but you managed to slip from your bed without flashing anything delicate to the room. You retrieved the toy from where it had fallen, running your fingers over the wall to be sure your unwelcome guest hadn’t put a dent in the surface. 

“Very well,” a harsh voice gritted out. You turned to find Jareth standing behind you, expression foreboding. “In return for your temporary admittance to your bed, I offer a predetermined number of dreamless nights. Is that acceptable?” 

You took a moment, pretending to consider it. In all reality, you were fighting the urge to take a large step back. It was easy to pretend sometimes, but behind the veneer of care, cordiality, and relentless pursuit, Jareth was dangerous. The menace poured from him, and something deep inside of you screamed for you to run. 

But this was not the forest or the field or the jungle. Jareth was hunting you with slow steps and measured manners, sweetly urging you to give yourself away one piece at a time. You could resist that - at least, you liked to think you could - but you didn’t seem to have an option. 

The only way to win was to leave Rachel to him. Or never speak those words at all. 

“Yes, that is acceptable,” you agreed when you were sure your voice would be steady.

The ensuing negotiating session was slow and painful, but at least it gave you an idea how highly Jareth prized getting together with you. In the end, you agreed that he could stay with you until dawn. In return, you would get seven nights of sleep with only the dreams that your mind concocted for you. 

“It seems we have reached an accord,” Jareth concluded, holding out a hand for you to shake. 

You reached out, but paused at the last moment. “And… this won’t change anything? About our situation, at least?” 

“Nothing more than an improved mood for us both,” he promised. You believed him. 

How far you had fallen.

The instant your fingers made contact with his, Jareth pulled you closer. You braced yourself for a kiss - or even a grope - but he buried his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath. 

“Are you sniffing me?” you asked. It was a rhetorical question; there was little else he could have been doing. 

“Ah,” Jareth sighed, releasing you. “I always forget that human senses are so terribly weak.”

“And there’s the condescension,” you muttered, trying to pull back from him. 

Jareth’s grip tightened on you, locking you in place against him as he shook his head. “You cannot pick a fight with me, little champion. We have an agreement and I have no intention of releasing you from your part of it. I am here.”

“Only until dawn,” you reminded churlishly. 

“Precisely,” he agreed with a sharp grin. “There is no time to waste.”

You were in his arms, then you were in the air in his arms, then you were on the bed in his arms. The dizzied spinning of the room around you had left you fully disoriented, and you had no idea how he had managed to get both of you horizontal without releasing you. 

When Jareth’s grip on you disappeared, it was only to strip you of your sleep shirt before busily setting to work on his own clothing. Despite your nudity, your past, and the delicate situation he had interrupted when he arrived - which you still refused to think about too hard - you found yourself suddenly feeling awkward. 

“What’s on the agenda?” 

“First, I’m going to indulge in one of my longest-held fantasies,” Jareth told you, excitement glittering in his eyes. They were starting to look distinctly more fae, and that made chills run over your body. You couldn’t entirely tell whether they were from fear or interest. 

“Which is?” 

You were flat on your back in an instant, hips propped up on a pillow as Jareth’s shoulders pressed your thighs further apart. His face was poised at your entrance, lined up so perfectly that his slightest exhale made you tighten. 

“Guess,” he drawled up at you. 

Any clever response you might have offered got caught in your throat, stuck behind a noise that you would give anything not to loose. Instead, you just watched him, knowing your eyes were wide and your lips were parted. It was an expression that spoke more clearly than you wanted it to, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

Jareth smirked like he knew the state of your uncontrollable thoughts and lowered his head. 

You thought briefly, fleetingly, about the sharpness of his teeth and the way you hadn’t been willing to risk this the first time you were together. The thought lingered for only a fraction of a second, because you were catapulted into the stratosphere the instant Jareth touched you with his mouth. 

He was slow, methodical, though his explorations were wicked and merciless in a way that slowness rarely allowed. He found every sensation that made you squirm, milked the way you couldn’t catch your breath when he pressed just so with his fingers inside of you, reveled in the way your hands fisted in the sheets when he teased your clit with the faintest flick of his tongue. 

Jareth didn’t pull away from you - a good thing, since you might just weep if that happened - but one of his hands snaked up to pull yours down to his hair. You didn’t need much encouragement, especially when you felt how surprisingly soft those strands were. Both of your hands sank deep into his hair, holding him in place or moving him where you needed him most.

He was shockingly obliging, allowing you to steer him as you clutched desperately at his head. But, even as your orgasm started really approaching, Jareth slowed further and further until he was barely moving. The slight pressure and warmth of his mouth wasn’t enough to push you over the edge and you groaned as you felt the pleasure start to plateau, then slowly ebb back out of you. 

“Jareth…”

“I do love when you use my name, pet,” Jareth told you, and you despised that he pulled away to say it. “But you know how I feel about your pleasure without me.” 

You stared down at him, aghast even as you remembered how he had insisted on being inside of you before either of you came last time. Mid-plea, you changed tactics. You spread your thighs still further, far enough that your hips ached with the stretch, and said, “Hurry.” 

Jareth sat up, the lower half of his face shining with you, but he certainly did not hurry as you had requested. Instead, he took an eternity cleaning his face. Not wiping it on his arm or  using the sheets to dry himself off. No, he gathered every hint of you from his face with his fingers, which trekked back and forth to his mouth until any trace had been swallowed down. You watched the process raptly, feeling as though you might actually die from arousal if he didn’t finish soon. 

He settled on the mattress beside you, seeming utterly pleased with himself when you threw your leg over his hips and pulled, dragging him against you. He smiled, murmuring something, but your entire being had narrowed down to the way his cock felt sliding through your folds and you didn’t catch what he had said. 

Jareth was still gloating when you pumped your hips again, catching his head with your entrance and pushing him partially inside of you. His otherworldly eyes went wide with shock as his body reacted without any consent from him. His hands locked onto you - one on your shoulder and the other splayed over your hip - as he gave a stuttered thrust. 

That wasn’t enough to seat him fully in you, but it was enough to make you clench so tightly around him you worried he would be forced from you. It wasn’t, obviously, and Jareth quickly used his grip to pull you down as he pushed up and in, sinking fully inside of you in a slow, stretching surge that left both of you gasping with the shock of it. 

“How are you possibly gripping me so tightly when we spent all of that time stretching you out?” Jareth asked, a hint of unsteadiness in his voice.

“Tongue ver- ah -versus dick,” you pointed out. 

Jareth grimaced. “Crude word.” 

“But accurate.” 

He withdrew rapidly, pulling out until only his head was left inside of you. When you shifted uncomfortably, he pounded back into you so hard that you could almost imagine an audible noise from his hips hitting yours. “Does a sensation like this feel like it could stem from something as crass as a ‘dick’?”

“Are you really talking about vocabulary right now?” you asked, struggling to keep the words even. 

“Perhaps I am attempting to prolong this experience,” Jareth gritted out. 

You tilted your head at him. “So much for ‘perhaps’ being a half-lie. You’re close, aren’t you? That was fast…” 

Jareth’s lip curled as his hand slid from your hip to your thigh. He tugged your knee further up, shifting his own hips just enough to hit the center of your g-spot with every thrust.

You had a split second of profound discomfort. G-spot orgasms rode on the edge of ‘too much’ even when you were feeling relaxed with someone you trusted, and they were on the wrong side of that line with Jareth. The intense pressure in the cradle of your hips made you frown, a small pained sound falling from your lips. 

You took a breath, ready to tell Jareth that he had to pick a different angle, but the hand that had once been on your shoulder disappeared from it, reappearing between your legs. With a wriggle to get between the lips of your pussy, Jareth’s thumb pressed hard against your clit. 

The spike of sensation turned the ‘too much’ pressure on your g-spot into blinding pleasure, and you were fairly certain you were screaming as your body did its best to explode from the combination. 

Jareth’s orgasm could have been kicked off by yours - probably was, owing to the vice grip of your core around him - but you were unaware of it. The pleasure hit you in wave after overwhelming wave, each one knocking you down before you had recovered from the one before it. You were robbed of sight, sound, and touch, every sense dulled by the glittering onslaught against your sanity. It turned you into a shapeless, formless thing, unable to do anything but feel, and even that was overwhelming. 

When it finally ebbed enough for you to be somewhat aware of your body again, you were trembling as you sucked in breath after breath. 

“Any further jokes about my stamina?” Jareth asked, shifting.

You caught at his shoulders, seized by the unbearable tenderness of your entrance. “No- don’t move yet.” 

He settled down once more. “I cannot say I regret the company in the afterglow.”

The smug look on his face made you frown at him. “Don’t do that again. I mean it, Jareth.”

As you had intended, the use of his name grabbed the Goblin King’s attention in a way little else did. He scowled a little. “You seemed to enjoy yourself well enough.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” Jareth grew smug once more, but you shook your head. “You don’t understand. It felt great, but also kind of bad. It’s… a lot. I have to be in the right mood for a g-spot orgasm, not have one pushed on me.” 

“Why?” 

If his tone had held anything other than genuine curiosity, you would have told Jareth to go to hell. As it was, you felt the need to explain. “It’s like the expression ‘flying too close to the sun’, in the true mythic way. It’s pleasure, but it’s sharp. Heavy. Intense. It makes you wonder if you’ll ever feel anything but that again. They’re nice if you’re in the right frame of mind for it, but not entirely comfortable.” 

Jareth nodded slowly. “I am sorry for pushing it on you, then. I assumed I was doing you a kindness.” 

If you didn't know better, you would think you and Jareth had just had a mature exchange. The idea was too strange. 

“Thank you for listening,” you returned cautiously. “You can pull out now.” 

He did so slowly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. Your wetness and his cum helped him slide out without too much friction, and you relaxed when he was free of you. You curled up slightly, the closest you could get to cradling your hyper-sensitive junk in mixed company.

“That’s the other bad thing about a g-spot orgasm,” you told him. “I’m going to need a little more time to recover before I can go again.” 

“No need, little human.” Jareth nodded to the window. Your curtains were drawn, but you could see hints of light gilding the fabric edges. “Your part of our deal has been fulfilled.”

“Oh.” 

It seemed anti-climactic, though you were grateful you didn’t have to scrape up the effort for another romp with the Goblin King that night. And, to a lesser extent, you were excited to get some sleep free of fae dreams. 

“Do not sound so terribly disappointed,” Jareth said, smiling. “Your week will end almost as soon as it begins and then we will see each other once more.” 

“That makes me disappointed,” you fired back.

Jareth’s smile only widened, like he didn’t believe you. You didn’t entirely believe yourself, either.

And that scared you to death.

---

Author's Note - Guess whose one-shot grew a plot? I'm working through a backlog of fics right now, but this is one of my favorites and I'll probably end up back here sooner rather than later.

Thanks for reading! I would love to know what you thought!

[whereireid]

˚ · . 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!steve rogers x fem!reader | masterlist

SUMMARY: Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

warnings: dubious consent ! (reader does consent but it can be interpreted otherwise) fingering, oral [m recieving] manhandling, — arguments, swearing, verbal insults, toxic ideas of marriage [nuclear family, gender roles] mentions of post-partum depression.

Some may say a clean home creates a clean mind. Others say, happy wife, happy life. Steve Rogers strives for both of these things.

Because in Steve Rogers' line of work, it's tiresome to return home to a messy house, a dissatisfied wife, and a crying baby. Exhausting is actually probably a better term. Constantly picking up dirty laundry which should've been thrown in the washing machine days beforehand, not managing to eat dinner because there is no dinner prepared for him, having to listen to a screeching baby which pierces his ears and makes his head throb.

It is hard. Steve Rogers has enough to deal with at work, what with saving the world and actually representing the entire nation of America as a whole. And you? His cute little suburban housewife, who he slaves around for at his job just so he can shroud you in bliss and heaven? You just don't seem to get that. You cry and wail over your position as a mother, saying that it’s too much to handle and that the workload is too much.

The fucking workload. By which, you mean doing the dishes and the laundry and occasionally cooking dinner. Meanwhile, Steve will come home from work, after fighting off actual terrorists and criminals, sometimes even aliens, to a home that is so messy it looks like it’s just been broken into. And he’ll try to be rational - argue that it is hard for you because you’re dealing with your son, and that you’re a first-time mom, and that James has inherited his dad’s serum which has made the four-month-old a stupidly advanced little shit. And Steve does admit this - your son is very good at pushing buttons and misbehaving and throwing tantrums, but that’s what kids do. You knew this. But still, he'll try to be rational - because you're perfect in every other way and it must be so hard to manage this, but then also...

...It shouldn’t be that hard to stay on top of things. And then, when Steve will come home and try to rest - when he drops on the sofa tiredly, unable to hold back the temptation to succumb to hours of missed sleep, you’ll call over to him: “Stevie, can you put food in the oven? I forgot," with no apology! - Hell, no genuine sincerity either! Yet, like the good husband he is, he'll do it - no questions asked, and then you'll follow up with, "oh, and stick the washing machine on, please! And maybe the dishwasher too, whilst you’re at it?”

...It shouldn’t be that hard to stay on top of things. And then, when Steve will come home and try to rest - when he drops on the sofa tiredly, unable to hold back the temptation to succumb to hours of missed sleep, you’ll call over to him: “Stevie, can you put food in the oven? I forgot," with no apology! - Hell, no genuine sincerity either! Yet, like the good husband he is, he'll do it - no questions asked, and then you'll follow up with, "oh, and stick the washing machine on, please! And maybe the dishwasher too, whilst you’re at it?”

He'll do all of it. He won't even say a word. Won't mutter a complaint. Then you'll both sit in silence as you eat, not even a "oh, how was your day, Steve?" or a kiss on the cheek. Two seperate showers, two separate bedtime routines - the only time the two of you really talk is when you both put James to bed, but then, what? You'll drag yourself to your bedroom, and Steve will put his hands on your bare thighs needily, his cock so hard in his pants it actually hurts, only for to waft him away and say you're tired and need sleep? Only for him to wait until you're breathing softly next to him to go on his phone and look at the photos of you he has saved when you're bare and naked, sultry and ready for him?

God, what has happened to him? Is this what fatherhood is?

Steve can deal with all of this. He thinks you're depressed - he's pretty sure of it, actually. Post-partum depression is what they call it. He's asked you to see a doctor - no, has begged you to, but to no avail. So he sits and watches as you cry and stress, soothing you at every possible opportunity, only to have his head bit off for doing so.

Today has been rough. So rough that Steve’s actually pondered whether coming home would be more beneficial to him than drinking his sorrows away at a bar, despite the unbelievable curse that he can’t get drunk. He decides the former – you might need him, and he's hoping that you're going to put a pip in his step. There's no-one he needs more when he's down than you. And he's sure it will be fine, because a happy wife allows for a happy life!

Right?

Wrong. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh as he gazes over his living room. It is a state, and he's wondering how it looks exactly like an actual bomb has gone off. No. It looks worse - there’s shit everywhere. Toys and baby clothes and an open pack of clean diapers lay scattered around the living room floor, and he’s almost certain there’s apple sauce on the white rug that he spent $5,000 fucking dollars on.

“Sweetheart, what is this?” It genuinely feels like Steve’s heart is about to be pulled out of his chest. Like someone’s actually ripping their hands into him and scratching away at his heart like a deranged psychopath. Is disappointed even the word? Is angry better? “What the hell is on this rug?”

When you appear from the kitchen, running out wildly, hand movements frantic in concern, Steve genuinely winces. You look a mess - exhausted, worrisome, and on the brink of collapse. When Steve always pictured coming home to you as his housewife, he’ll be honest, he never imagined this. “On the rug?” You wheeze, cursing softly as you graze a wet rag over the applesauce stain. “I have no idea. It isn’t - shit - it isn’t coming off.”

“It looks like applesauce. It - it doesn't matter,” Steve reassures, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. When you ignore him, rubbing harder at the stain, he repeats, “doll. It doesn’t matter. I’ll just - I’ll go and buy a new one.”

“No, Steve. We can’t afford a new one right now. I have to get this out.”

“What do you mean, we can’t afford one right now? Of course we can - just - Jesus, doll, stop it!”

The sudden reminder that Steve is much, much stronger than you suffocates you in a wave when he lifts you up by the underneath of your arms. You wail pathetically, defeatedly, dropping the damp rag on the rug, admitting that attempting to salvage it is a lost cause.

Silence prods at the air. When Steve finally lets go of you, he puts his hands on his hips and sniffs slightly. How the hell has he let this happen?

“Is dinner almost ready?” his voice sounds hoarse as he speaks, and he genuinely feels like he could cry when you answer,

“No.”

“Right. Okay.” A shaky breath slips past Steve’s lips, and his shaking hands find their way into your hair. He rubs your scalp softly, caringly, as one does to their partner if they’ve had a bad day - though he’s almost certain that his had been worse. “Is dinner even prepped, doll?”

When you shake your head in response, Steve shuts his eyes. He shuts them so hard he sees stars and he tries to wash away the frustration that threatens to bubble over like a tsunami wave. It’s impossible to hold back the annoyed sigh that slips past his lips, though - it’s so dramatically loud that your head snaps up, the corner of your eyes pricking with fresh tears.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs your concern away, peppering a gentle kiss on your head, hoping that you won't press on.

Of course, though, you do.

“What, Steve?”

“I haven’t said anything, doll.” He shakes shoulders slightly, trying to brush away the anger which flickers throughout his body.

Steve hates this. Despises how you gaze up at him with such ferocity - such anger, like he’s actually done something wrong. Your brows furrow together sharply, and you mutter, “you didn’t have to. Something is clearly bothering you.”

“Okay." Steve nods carefully, not wanting to overstep, not wanting to make you more frustrated than you are. "You’re right. Something... Something is bothering me.”

You huff from beneath him. Your cheeks flush a shade darker in frustration, and he can hear how your little heartbeat begins to quicken in your chest. You have the audacity to be frustrated right now? After this is what he comes home to?

Of course, you do. Because you've had a hard day. But his has definitely been fucking worse.

And his patience is running indefinitely thin.

“Yeah, and what is bothering you, Steve? Because I can’t do anything about it if you’re always going to go fucking radio-silent on me.”

Steve’s jaw twitches. He hates it when dames swear. Especially when that dame is you. “I’ve had a bad day at work, sweetheart. I really think it’s best we don’t do this today,” he warns sweetly, his hands coming to grip your shoulders reassuringly. You shrug off his touch, and Steve glares at you intensely. “Give it a rest, doll, please.”

“Me, give it a rest? You’re the one huffing and puffing like you’re the big bad wolf all of a sudden. Like you’ve had such a terrible day sitting around filling out paperwork whilst I’ve had to deal with your son-“

“Our son,” he corrects quickly, jaw clenched as he reaches out to grip your cheeks. “I really hope you’re not going to keep rambling on. It’s not going to go well for you if you do.”

Steve thinks his warning is enough for you to back down. You’ve defied him in the past. You’ve had a fiery attitude that has almost burnt ablaze before, and Steve blew it out as though it were a candlelight. You know what he’s capable of when he’s angry - know when you’re pushing his buttons too much.

"There's no point. If I do, you won't listen to me anyway."

"I do listen."

"You don't." Your voice strains slightly as you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at your husband, blissfully unaware of just how quickly he's tiring of this conversation. "If you listened you'd be here a little bit more rather than at work all of the time."

"I can't exactly take a vacation from saving the world, doll. Just - let's just drop this, okay? I don't want to get into this anymore. You're not going to like where this goes."

"Of course, you don't want to get into it! You never do."

Your little hands waft at Steve's chest, flapping at him softly. And he tries to keep his cool as you rant - he really does, but he is so tired and he's had just such an awful day that he can't help it. When did you both discuss the boundaries of your relationship, again? Four years ago now, Steve's sure of it. And he hasn't had to be harsh with you in years - hasn't really had the heart to be mean to you at all, in fact...

... but when you're acting like this, he thinks he needs to blow out that annoying, fiery spark you're blazing.

"Jesus fucking Christ, doll, you really don't know how to shut the hell up, do you? You think Bucky or Sam would let you run your mouth like this?" Steve seethes suddenly, his body pressing against yours. It happens in one quick motion - first of all you're standing below him, pressing your finger into his chest and complaining about his working hours, and the next you're thrown over his lap, thrashing around like a bird, trying to slip out of his touch.

It just so happens that Steve is so, so much stronger than you. And he hasn't been this hard in weeks - God, he hasn't touched you this much in weeks, you've both been so... busy. Perhaps that's why you're acting up - perhaps he just needs to show you your place again as his subordinate and your flame will dull, smothered by his love.

"Get off of me, Steve! Get off!" You wail awkwardly as Steve pushes the band of your sweatpants past your ass. It makes your body flood with warmth as his fingers skim against your panties gently, the touch sending shockwaves throughout your body.

"You've been so wrapped up in this make-shift hell of yours that you've forgotten about the most important thing in your life," Steve says, pinching the inside of your thighs, making you squeak. "Me. Remind me, again, doll - what is a wife's duty?"

You flinch as he brings a hand up to smooth down your hair. It feels like you're a newlywed again and you've just burnt the lasagna after Steve's had an excruciating day training rookies at the Avengers Tower. When was the last time you had been punished?

Gosh, you couldn't even remember. You'd been so good. So obedient - the perfect little housewife, which Steve had molded you into carefully. When was the last time you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek? When was the last time you'd sunk to your knees after he'd had a bad day and served him like a good wife should? You'd grown too comfortable in defying him - grown too oblivious to who he actually is.

He's Captain America. He's your husband. He's the most important man in your life - right next to James.

And you'd been neglecting him.

"What is a wife's duty?" He repeats cooly, his tone like ice. It makes you feel frostbit - warm but numb at the same time.

"To take care of the home."

"And?"

"... to serve her husband?"

Steve sighs, exasperated. He pinches your thigh again, to which you grumble in discontent. "So you do know. You just choose to forget, day in and day out."

Steven Grant Rogers is a nice man. The best man you could've ever asked for. Charming, doting - forever showering you with compliments and extravagant gifts. He has never expected anything of you, except your complete and utter submission to him. Stege has only ever wanted you to be a loving, doting partner to him, to which he vowed to be the same.

"I haven’t… chosen to forget," you try to justify, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Steve's fingers run up and down your clothed pussy. "It's just - it's been hard, with James, and everything."

“And you think it’s been easy for me? Easy coming home to a messy home and an upset wife?” Steve asks, pushing the band of your panties aside. A soft gasp passes your lips as he pushes one digit into you, and warmth succumbs your body in response. “I’ve only expected one thing from you, sweetheart. I think you need to learn how to please me again.”

You should learn. You need to - need to be re-educated on how to be his perfect wife. Again. Steve’s eyes rake over the living room once again, and he tuts, sliding another finger inside of you. It’s heavenly how your body arches - how your skin pricks with goosebumps as he slowly moves his fingers in a ‘come forth’ motion, as you mewl beneath him - every bit of fight pooling out of you, the light from your fire beginning to flicker out.

“A good wife never neglects her husband." Steve’s voice is cool, and your eyes flutter shut in response. He hasn’t made you feel like this in so long - you’ve practically been celibate, and the feeling of his fingers pressing lovingly on that little spongy spot inside of your pussy makes your knees feel weak. Your stomach grows warm with lust and your pussy slick with arousal when Steve’s other hand grips your ass harshly. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Never. I’d - ah - I’d never forget that."

"Then why haven't you been taking care of me, doll?" He coos, so sickly-sweet it makes your stomach churn.

God, he takes care of you so good, and here you are neglecting him. Warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach and you begin to feel hot flashes throughout your bodies as he keeps curling his fingers inside of you - the sound of your slick bouncing off of the living room walls.

"I've been trying," you whine pitifully, shuffling as he speeds his fingers up, caressing you just perfectly. Just how you like it.

"Trying, huh?" And just as you're about to cum, he stops. "Trying isn't good enough."

"Steve!"

The blond stares down at you with a painfully unreadable expression. His face is so blank it actually sends shivers throughout you, and he taps the side of your cheek softly. "You know what to do when you've been bad, don't you?"

Steve's voice is an octave lower. Subtle fear pricks at the back of your head as you nuzzle your head in his crotch - embarrassed at the feeling of his bulge pressing against you. He's just as desperate as you for this - maybe more, but he's not going to let you go down without apologising to him first.

In his eyes, you've put him through hell. Unhappy wife, unhappy life.

You remove his cock from his boxers swiftly. You pout at the sight of it - thick angry and red - before licking a soft stripe up his tip. Steve's length is so pretty - complimentary to the man himself. Slick with his own precum, you hum, wondering how you ever went so long without it. But before you could even think, even comprehend how you went without such luxury for so long, Steve's big hand wraps around the back of your head and forces you down onto his cock.

To begin with, you thrash and gag. Steve is huge and he's always taken some time to get well-adjusted to, and your throat is nowhere near wet enough to take him all in... yet, but he doesn't care. Steve's tired of waiting - he's practically huffing as he pushes your head up and down using one of his hands, grunting as your throat tightens around his cock. He wishes you were kneeling in front of him so he could see your teary eyes, and he knows they're teary because you sob like a baby when he uses you like this.

It's hsi right to do that, though. He's your husband, your saviour - quite literally your Prince Charming. He's been so good to you, so patient, and so accepting of your need for time and adjustment, because James is quite literally a whirlwind. But he's also tired - he's Captain America, America's Saviour, and a father to one.

He just needs some relief. He just needs his cock sucked.

So, yeah, no more teasing - no more thrashing, either, Steve decides as he holds your body in place and opts to thrust up into your mouth. And it's a much better choice, gives him easier access, and you gasp against him as he thrusts his hips up into you, a drawly groan climbing from his throat as he does so. Your mouth is so, so, so fucking wet and your lips wrap perfectly around his cock. The only thing that can make this better is if - "oh Jesus Christ," Steve grumbles, - is if you move your tongue in time with his thrusts which you do!

It's like clockwork with Steve. After being with him for almost half a decade you know him so well that you know what he likes. Knows exactly what gets his cock to twitch. Your tongue runs over his veins and his cock begins to throb inside your mouth, his fingers curling in your hair.

"This is how a good wife treats her husband," Steve tells you, his teeth grinding together as he comes undone in your mouth. His cum paints your tongue beautifully, and you swallow the salty mixture eagerly.

As he pulls out of your mouth - making sure to smack his cock against your tongue a few times, he looks around the living room again. All feelings of anger has washed away, his cock is still hard and leaking against your mouth as he goes to reach for his phone, but as he does, you stop him.

"Hey! What about me?"

It's funny. Hilarious, actually, how you think your pretty little pout and teary eyes and high-pitched, whiny voice will entice him to give you a reward. But good girls get rewards, not bad ones - and you haven't really been good, have you?

"What do you mean, 'what about me'? You've had what you deserve."

"What?" His words feel like a smack in the face, and you cling to his plain white shirt pathetically. "You haven't let me cum yet, Steve, that's not fair."

It makes you feel embarrassed when he laughs at you. You shrink into yourself slightly, looking up at him with big doe-eyes. When you don't get it, Steve coos slightly, brushing a curl from your face. "Oh, my pretty little girl, you don't get it, do you?" And when you shake your head, Steve mumbles, "what is your duty as a wife?"

"To - to serve you, which I've done!"

"Yes, you have, doll. Incredibly well. What else?" He places a soft kiss on your head, lovingly, and you lull at the contact.

"To... to clean the home, and make sure it's cared for."

"And is it?" He says plainly. "No, it's - it's a shit-hole, honey, I can't sugar-coat it anymore. Your job as a housewife is to clean it up. Do you really think it's fair for me to get home from work and be forced to do this as well when this is your job? I've done my part."

When you think it over - well, no, it isn't really fair, because Steve works like a dog - slaves away for America and for you to have the life you've always dreamed of, and you've been... excepting him to clean up after your mess.

You feel slightly... shameful.

Steve reaches over to pinch your thigh again. "I promise though, doll, as soon as you're done cleaning this all up, I'll take you however you want to be taken."

You can't help the rush of excitement pool in your lower-belly. Steve swears he's never seen you get up so quick - you don't even bother putting your sweatpants back on, abandoning them completely and rushing around like a complete fool.

He watches you, content.

This is what life is supposed to be like.

[eowynstwin]

Hi everyone. It's been a while—exactly a month since I last posted to this blog. How have you been?

A month isn't really all that long, but it's enough time to be able to look at everything that happened and understand it better. In the end, the whole situation (I've been calling it The Fuckening in my head) really didn't have anything to do with me. I was unlucky enough to run across someone willing to hurt anyone they could for attention, but also lucky enough that everyone who mattered to me in this fandom went to bat for me.

So I’ve decided to come back to this blog. I'll be posting about call of duty again as well as posting my writing. I also plan to blog about other fandoms (I’d already been doing it anyway); I've been getting back into rdr2, for example, and there's some writing I'd like to do for that.

There’s more context which I’ll put below the cut, but that’s the most important part of what I have to say; I often regret how long winded I can be, so the rest is just self indulgence if you can forgive it. I’ve thought a lot about this choice and I’m satisfied with my decision. I hope none of you will mind.

So, lol, things were not great outside of fandom stuff when it all kicked off, though I didn’t mention it publicly because we all know by now that asking for any sympathy when you’re the target of a mob is more likely to just get you raked over the coals harder. I’m still not entirely sure about talking about all of this, but I have a bad tendency to clam up when I really should be asking for support. So:

I mentioned briefly before the accusations started flying that I was dealing with bedbugs—turns out it was actually something else, but leading up to a doctor’s visit I was convinced I had an infestation, and I was stripping my bed every day to look for them. I had alarms set to wake me up twice a night to see if I could catch them, so I was not sleeping all that well. I couldn’t find anything, but I had no other explanation, and it was driving me fucking crazy. Post doctor visit it turns out I had a viral infection. No idea where I caught it, and nothing to do but wait it out. I had a massive, gnarly looking rash all over my body, and to add insult to injury I developed a fever that took me out for a whole weekend. (I’m recovered now but I have a nifty new scar on my hip from getting a biopsy.)

Next to that, I was having some PTSD flareups of my own. This was (mostly) unrelated to The Fuckening. Now, I understand that that might be hard to believe, given “Myka’s” claims, and I can’t make you believe me. Nor will I provide details to convince you, other than to say there were some things going on in my neighborhood that recalled a period of time in my life that was extremely unstable, and I found myself irrationally terrified to go home every day. For those of you who don’t experience the symptoms of PTSD, I think it’s appropriate to note that it isn’t just emotional turmoil; I, personally, experience physical pain in my entire body that lingers for hours, days, or even weeks after being triggered. (Everything regarding this, too, is fine now. I have a great therapist and a supportive family.)

All of this to say, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally when I decided to leave this blog and fandom. And I regretted the decision almost instantly.

However, I didn’t want to let grief make any decisions for me, and also I was still VERY scared Myka was going to hunt down my personal information and either dox or harass me elsewhere. I think this fear was justified; it has happened to other writers in this fandom before.* So I decided to take some time to cool off and watch the situation develop without me.

I don’t think I need to get into the details—although if you’re interested in them, @fulltacs has been keeping track of the drama. Given the most recent development with the four obviously sock puppet blogs that popped up and immediately began stirring shit up again, I realized Myka probably would have done what she did with or without me. I just so happened to give her the ammunition she needed to do something REALLY big. It was pure bad luck.

(Also—and I’m sorry if this is just stirring the pot, but after everything they did to me I feel I deserve to make the accusation—I’ve suspected for a while that the two loudest blogs leading the witch hunt against me were far more involved in this farce than anyone has assumed. I have no proof and I do not want anyone to do anything about it on my behalf, leave them the fuck alone. But I will not forget the distress they caused me for a long fucking time, and the only way for me to let this go is to say my piece. So there. Done. Let that be the end of it.)

Having this hindsight, I feel comfortable coming back. I’m still very touched by everyone’s support, which in the end was louder than the harassment. I also think it’s important for people who care about fighting racism in any community not to run at the first sign of trouble, which I did, and I feel pretty sorry for.

That’s the gist of things. If you’ve read all of this, thank you for doing so!

*I was going to add a paragraph about halfmoth-halfman’s situation but decided against it. For one thing, she wants to be left alone, and for another, talking about the experiences of fans of color, particularly black fans, deserves its own post separate from my white experience, if I should even post about it at all.

[i-wanna-write]

Meant To Be - Bode Donovan x Reader

Prompt: Part 2 to “Feel Alive”. Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Word Count: 2088

A/N: I have no idea how to link part 1 to this if anyone has tips 😬

————————————————————————

You are a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. From your mother passing away to your father stepping up from his addition to make sure you were cared for financially and emotionally, you knew there was a reason for it.

Just like you knew there was a reason that Bode and you met. That he was the one to save you - as you stated that he did to him numerous times. Of course he always brushed you off and said he didn’t save your life. That you would’ve been okay if someone else found you later.

You just nod along to that - believing you guys were supposed to meet.

It’s been four months since you met Bode and your ankle is just about fully healed. It only hurts when it rains or on the days you’re on your feet too much. You don’t mind though, as the pain is a reminder that you’re alive.

After you stopped by to give Bode the thank you cookies, you called him a few days later, nervous as you weren’t sure he really meant that you could call him. But, when he picked up the phone after you told the voice on the other side who you wished to speak with, you could’ve sworn you heard the smile in his voice on the other side.

So from there your friendship began - or maybe it was becoming something more. You weren’t sure and did not want to look too much into it. You’re just grateful to have met Bode and have gotten as close as you could in the past months.

He was nervous to tell you about his past, how he struggled with addiction and the actions he committed to get locked up. However, you just took it in stride, sharing about your fathers struggle with addiction and how you understood everything he shared.

He noticed how you never judged when he opened up. Or how you really did understand the thoughts whirling through his head. From the simple ones such as what the weather would be like, to the deep ones such as the meaning of life and its purpose.

He recently lost his own mother and having you there as someone who can offer advice as you’ve been through the grieving process, was more then he could ever ask for.

For you, talking to bode was like a breath of fresh air. He didn’t look at your photos as just photos. He didn’t see you as just another journalist or nosy girl or some surfaced women. He saw beneath your beauty and accepted you for all your quirks and loved teasing you about your snappiness.

“Why can’t he just retire already and let someone else freaking take over. He’s gonna die soon anyways so why not put the company in capable hands!” You complained to him over the phone one day - about how the owner of the newspaper was slowly making you lose your mind

“Did you get enough sleep lastnight?” Bode asked, teasing in his voice.

You paused. “Yes!” You snapped. “Why ask such an out of nowhere question. We’re discussing Daniel’s incompetency!”

You heard Bode laugh on the other side of the phone and he said, “Well, you told me you get snappy and mean when you’re tired so I was just wondering…”

You let out a little laugh yourself. “I was being mean, wasn’t I,” you face palmed yourself.

“I mean, I’ve heard worse.” Bode responded, a smile on his lips as he can imagine the bashful look on your face. “Just don’t think about Daniel’s incompetency and maybe take a hot shower, curl up with a good book, and get some rest. So Snappy goes back into her cave.”

You smiled. In just 2 months, Bode knew your routine when you had a bad day and could recite it with no issues. Another reason why you believe meeting him was meant to be.

“So Snappy can go back into her cave, huh?” You questioned back. “Well, if I do that then you need to go lay in your bunk and draw. Maybe draw something for me that I can see when I visit next week.”

Bode bit his lip, smiling slightly and excited to see you next week. Just like he knew your routine, you know his.

“I’ll do just that.” He stated. “Now go hang up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Believing that everything happened for a reason led you to where you are today, Three Rock. The newspaper decided to have an article on the reforming convicts and you got assigned the task. Interview the Captain, 2 convicts of his choice, and snap some shots of the crew was what the day had in store for you.

You saw it as another opportunity to see Bode - one that was during different hours then visiting ones. You weren’t excited about the questions needed to be asked, but if you got to see Bode, you didn’t care too much.

————————————————————

“You’re up Bode!” Freddy called, walking over to the blonde who was sitting on a picnic table.

“You’re already done?” Bode asked.

He knew you were coming to shoot some shots and interview some people for a newspaper article. When Manny told him he chose himself and Freddy to be the convicts that were interviewed, Bode was just happy he got to talk to you outside of visiting hours and the phone. Regardless if they ended up being standard interview questions.

“Yeah they were just basic questions. Like ‘how do I feel Three Rock has helped me’ and ‘do I feel this program is beneficial in rehabilitation’ stuff like that.” Freddy answered, standing in front of Bode. “It was also nice to finally talk to Y/N without feeling you glareing at me.” He starts to tease.

“Hey! I do not glare at you!” Bode exclaims, laughing slightly.

Freddy laughs back. “You better ask her to be yours dude! Cause I’m sure there’s a lot of men in town who wouldn’t mind being hers.”

With that, Freddy walks back to the other members of the crew, laughing to himself.

Bode shakes his head, eyes rolling. Trust Freddy to put that thought in his head.

————————————————————

You’re currently sitting at a picnic table, going through the answers Freddy has given you. You enjoyed talking to the man you know Bode is closest to. The man was funny, charismatic, and a bit of a flirt. But he made it his mission to let you know he was taken and had a baby girl.

“This seat taken?” A familiar voice says and you look up to see blue eyes meet your own.

You smile widely. “Hey Stranger. Have a seat.” You gesture to the seat across from you and watch as Bode climbs in, his muscular legs moving over so they’re underneath the table.

“I just want to apologize for whatever Freddy said to you.” Bode starts, causing you to laugh.

“I can see why you’re friends with him. He’s definitely a character!” You say back, smoothing out a new piece of paper to begin your interview.

“So,” you start. “This is very informal. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I do want you to know that I did not write these questions.” You inform him.

Bode raises his eye brows, a teasing smile playing in his lips. “Let me guess, Daniel did?”

“Yes!” You shout, arm reaching in front of you in explanation. “There stupid and bleak and generic and -“

“Snappy is exiting her cage.” Bode sings, causing you to pause and laugh at him, seeing the smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry. I just -“

“Want Daniel to retire.” Bode finishes for you, nodding.

You nod back and sigh. Damn Daniel and him occupying your mind when you’re finally with Bode.

“Anyways, just a few questions and between us two, you can be as short as you want.” You inform him.

Bode nods and lets you take the lead of the interview. Your questions are simple and you were right that they are pretty bleak. The questions seemed to just want to know whether or not the program was working and worth the taxpayers money. At least that’s what it seemed to Bode.

“Last question.” You start, the whole process having only taken about ten minutes. “Once your time here at Three Rock ends, what is it that you plan to do when your sentence is finished?”

Bode takes a moment of silence, not expecting this question. This one seems the most personal but he can see why the newspaper and ‘Daniel’ would want to know the answer.

Finally he answers.

“I honestly never saw my life going this way and when it did, I never thought I’d see myself back in Edgewater, let alone at Three Rock. But with my time having spent here, I’ve been able to reconnect with my friends and family whom I’ve wronged and we’ve been able to grow past everything.”

Bode pauses and you lean forward, watching as emotion runs through his eyes. This poor guy has been dealt a tough hand but you’re happy to listen and to take some of the burden the past few months.

“Now, I think, if they’d have me, I’d join EFD and finally live up to my family name.”

You smile brightly at his answer, knowing how far he’s come the past few years. You reach forward and grab his hand, squeezing it tightly before releasing.

“That was perfect Bode.” You tell him, shuffling the papers back into your folder as your time here today is finished.

Bode smiles at you and starts to stand as you do, quickly coming to your side and offering his hand to help you rise.

“Can I walk you to your car?” He questions, suddenly feeling nervous.

“As long as you won’t get in trouble Stranger.” You shoot back, smiling at him.

Bode shakes his head. “I don’t think Cap would mind.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Been talking about me to your Cap?” You question teasingly.

Bode just shrugs and the two of you begin to head to your car, hand still in his. You notice the size difference and feel the butterflies in start your stomach. His hand is rough and calloused from his work at Three Rock while yours are soft and nails donning a fresh manicure.

Your two reach your car and you turn back to look at him, your back leaning against it as you look up at him.

“So a-“ Bode starts, his left hand in your right while his right hand runs a hand through his hair. “I was wondering - um,”

“Is Bode getting nervous?” You ask, laughing slightly at him.

He glares lightly at you, his left hand letting go of yours to be placed on your waist.

“I ah… I was wondering if- I mean, we’ve been -“

You cut off the poor guys’ rambling by reaching up with both your hands to rest around his neck, pulling him down to press his lips to yours.

Your butterflies immediately take flight as your lips meet. His lips are slightly chapped but feel perfect against your own. He doesn’t move at first, seemingly stunned before his lips begin to move. They slide against yours and you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip teasingly before bringing it back into your mouth.

Bode follows suit and does the same, squeezing your hips tightly. You gasp and his tongue sneaks past your lips to connect with your own, allowing them to dance together.

“Bode get your ass over here!” Captain Manny’s voice sounds, causing you both to pull away, panting slightly.

Bode looks slightly embarrassed and you just laugh at the look. You let him go as he does the same and opens the door for you. You get in and start your car, rolling down your window.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Stranger.” You tell him.

“Tomorrow.” Bode confirms, taking a step back so you can drive away.

“And to answer your question you didn’t ask - yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You smile at him.

Confusion floods his face. “How’d you know that’s what I was gonna ask?” He questions.

You grin. “Blame Freddy.”

Bode laughs before waving then hustling over to no doubt be reprimanded by Manny.

But when you two discuss it the next day during your phone call, he tells you it was worth it.

____________________________________________

A/N: I love giving Bode the love he deserves 💜