#if youre still reading please talk to me about peanuts

[corazomma]

yes i caved to the schrucy propaganda

[cloversnstrawberries]

platonic!yandere!charlie & gn!teen!reader general headcanons ! !

masterlist !

warnings; possessiveness, infantilization (charlie very much views you as a straight up child and treats you as such, though she doesn't mean any harm by it), overprotectiveness, forced hugging/cuddling, manipulation, guilt tripping, invasion of privacy/overstepping of boundaries, Charlie is very much not human, and doesn't fully grasp human customs/the normalcies of them, and if i missed any, please let me know!!

additional notes; hello!! i am alive!! I'm still working on the winter event, but I have pretty bad seasonal depression, so it's been hard to do anything at all recently :( but i'm still here and writing, and interested in hazbin!! i did this to try and get back into the groove of it all, + there's a massive lack of platonic yan charlie content :( so i must fix that (or atleast write some more for her)!!

w/c; 1.9k

No matter what you did to get into hell, how you look or act or conduct yourself-- what time period you came from, whether that been modern day or you remembered when Coca Cola had large amounts of cocaine in it, Charlie can and absolutely will baby you, to the point where it's concerning.

She's a very giving and kind person, you know that-- but you never knew her to cut up apples, put them on a little paper plate with some peanut butter and/or caramel, and hand them to anyone but you.

Sure, it's a nice gesture. But that's not the only thing she does like that. She'll always remind you to take care of yourself-- but she does it how you would to a child.

She sets out your pajamas every single night, folded neatly and primly at the foot of your bed. When you're about to run out of toothpaste, suddenly there's a new tube with one of those little plastic squeezers already on it. Your room is never dirty, because any clothes you haphazardly throw onto the floor-- somehow end up in your laundry basket.

You can never actually do your laundry, because before you can even throw a second glance at it-- you find the basket empty, and you check your dresser drawers to find your clothes all folded and sorted into the right ones.

It's humiliating. You can do these things on your own-- you don't want to sound ungrateful though, because Charlie isn't human. maybe she thinks this is normal? Maybe she does this for every resident.

Until you catch Angel making his way down to the laundry room, full basket in hand. You joked with him, asking if he upset Charlie so much that she wouldn't do it for him.

He looked at you like you'd grown a second head, tilted his head and made a noise of absolute bewilderment. You explained yourself-- only to have him laughing in your face, and saying

"Oh no, that's just you, toots. She don't do that for anyone else." Before he just-- turned and left! Leaving your standing in the middle of the hallway, face hot and most certainly red as a goddamn tomato.

You'd never... asked her to, though. It'd be a different story if you had, but you didn't-- never made any mention to her that you were incapable of doing your own laundry, or getting your own toothpaste from the cabinet when you were about to run out.

And yet, you didn't say a thing to her. She never talked about it really, all the things she did-- the only reason you know it was her doing, was because she'd often leave a little sticky note explaining what she'd done.

You'd find them on your bathroom mirror, reading "You looked a little low on shampoo, so i got some more for you! remember not to wash your hair every time, it dries your hair out :-] -C.M." , or on top of your dresser, telling you "Your drawers looked a little messy, so I straightened them up before I put your clothes away! Makes ure to keep them tidy, so you can find what you're looking for easier :-] -C.M."

But in the end, you never did anything to stop her from it. It was embarrassing, being treated like a child-- her acting like she was your mother, but you reasoned with yourself. She didn't seem to be doing it out of obligation, considering she only did it with you.

Maybe she was trying to help you adjust, given that fact that you were one of-- if not the-- youngest resident in the hotel.

It hit a breaking point when she began to replace some of your things.

At first, it wasn't that worrying. Wasn't that noticeable, either. The first aid kid you kept in the cabinet beneath your bathroom sink was replaced with a simpler one-- still useful, but it was clearly one meant for children. The kind you pack into your kids duffel bag before sending them off to summer camp.

It was those sort of things, the useful things you have been downgraded to things meant for children. Your regular scissors replaced with smaller safety-scissors-- it was aggravating, that one; but she meant well.

Then, the decorations in your room, your clothes, personal things that she didn't seem to approve of. A shirt depicting anything 'inappropriate' (which, in her mind, seemed to be anything that couldn't be found on a Disney Channel program)? Replaced. A poster for a more alternative band that had blood depicted on it? Gone from your wall, no trace of it left behind.

This went on for two weeks before you hit the point where you felt that there was no other option but to confront Charlie about it.

It did not go over very well.

You were lucky that you'd pulled Charlie aside for it, and that Vaggie was nowhere to be seen. You're sure that you would've gotten a spear right to your gut if she witnessed how Charlie was crying-- sobbing, gut wrenching little hic!'s and shudders as she stumbled out her response.

All you'd done was just-- you said it calmly! You didn't attack her, didn't go for her throat. Just asked her to come talk in her office, and told her straight up that "I know you're probably just trying to help, but I think you're going too far with it all. I'm capable of doing my own laundry, and I can be trusted with a full med kit--"

You couldn't even get it all out before the waterworks began, ending with you two squished together in her fancy office chair-- not quite on her lap, but your legs thrown over hers due to lack of space. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, as she rambled off apology after apology.

By the end of it, nothing had come of it at all. Her apologies made you feel awful, and it made you-- against your better judgement, let her off the hook. Simply saying "I'm-- I'm sorry for upsetting you-- I just..." You sighed, wishing for this to just be over already. Your shirt was soaked with her tears, and you could feel your ribs creaking under her vice-like embrace.

"...It's not a problem. I just blew it out of proportion."

You could've sworn you felt her lips curve up against where she'd pressed her face into the crook of your neck.

You decided to cast the thought aside, and not think anything of it-- not think anything of the fact that, immediately after you said that, she sprung up; just as energetic as usual, and asked "So you're not mad at me?"

With a shake of your head, you thought it'd be done. That she'd let you go back-- she'd go back to what she was doing.

And when she stood, you did as well. Legs asleep from the position you'd been in for about 20 minutes, wincing as you felt pin and needles all throughout them and you put your weight down.

Then, a hand wrapped around your wrist, and she pulled you to a nearby loveseat she had pushed to the wall. A cold spark of dread-- maybe it was ridiculous, but you couldn't deny that that's what the emotion so obviously was-- as you realized what was to come.

She sat down, and then pulled you down with her. She laid on her back, legs propped up on the one armrest, while the other supported her neck. She wrangled you up and had you laying on top of her.

Like your were a goddamn baby-- the pose mirrored to an exact T, the pose you'd been in for a picture that sat up on the mantle of your house up-top.

You, tuckered out by a day of doing god-knows-what, laying on your stomach atop your dads chest, the two of you snuggled together. Your mom had taken the picture, and it'd been framed and displayed proudly for years to come.

You weren't even a year old when the picture was taken.

But-- maybe you were a bit of a pushover, or maybe you were afraid of Charlie; because no matter how kind she is, you always had a nagging feeling in the back your head that she was, quite literally, the princess of Hell.

She could snap you in half without a second thought-- if she didn't have the conscious she did. Hell, she could probably do it on accident if you riled her up enough-- that's how powerful she is.

Eventually, against your will, you nodded off. It was... comforting, to an extent. it was uncomfortable-- emotionally wise; but to feel the rise and fall of her chest below you, to hear her heart steadily beating against your collarbone; the warmth of her spreading to you through the prolonged physical contact...

Within 15 minutes tops, you were out like a light. Charlie cracked an eye open-- she'd pretended to be asleep shortly after she pulled your down. Her face broke out into a giddy grin, as she gingerly raised her hand from where it'd settled on your back, and went to your head.

As she brushed her fingers through your hair, a soothing gesture that earned her a long sigh from your unconscious self-- she whispered little promises to you. You couldn't hear them-- but her dad used to do this for her all the time, when she was still so little.

Sure, you're a little bigger than she was at the time her dad did thais with her (alright, a lot bigger-- but sure her, you were just so cute! and so young, too! You'd barely be considered an infant by Hellborn/Nephel standards!), but she's sure it had the same effect, yeah?

"It's okay... I'll keep you safe. My sweet little star, trying to help me out by doing your own things. It's okay, I like doing them for you..." In addition to this being an attempt to put you at ease, to have her words go through your subconscious and hopefully influence your waking self-- (though she knows it'll take more than just this one time, but that's okay. she has all the time in the world for you)--, this was also a way to voice her feelings out loud, and to your face-- even if you weren't aware of it.

She loved you so much, but you were so stubborn. But that was just apart of who you are-- maybe you were going through a rebellious phase? She isn't quite sure how it works for humans fully, but she'd gone through one as well when she around about a teenager.

It's a little too early for a rebellious phase, though. Maybe you were just scared that she was going to use you, like the people in your life had.

Her smile faltered for a moment, a flash of uncharacteristic annoyance glimmered in her eyes- her hold on your side tightening by a fraction, before it relaxed. It was there one second, and then it was gone-- her smile back, and her eyes soft once again.

"I'll never leave you, not like they did..." She cooed, continuing to pet through your hair as she spoke. "It was silly, for them to leave a little thing like you all alone. I won't make the same mistake though, star."

You shifted a little as you slept, burrowing your face further into the crook of her neck. She giggled at the cute little gesture, and cooed more comforting words for as long as you slept. When you did wake, she always urged you go to back to sleep-- and you were never awake enough to go against the suggestion.

[naturesapphic]

idk if you’d wanna do this or not but could you potentially write something fluffy with Billie and a gf who feels dumb all the time because she’s dyslexic and billie helps her and comforts her when she struggles?

Dyslexic

Billie eilish x dyslexic!fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Everyone who was in your life knew you were dyslexic. You had it growing up and you still have trouble with it today. You would get teased for it a lot when you were little and now since you were an adult. You never understood why people were so mean about it, it was just a learning disorder, but the people always made you feel extra dumb for it.

Here you were, sitting at your desk in the office of your shared house with your girlfriend, working on a class project. You were done writing your portion of the paper and sent it to the group chat. Billie was downstairs in the studio working on music. Almost immediately everyone responded, criticizing your work and how you wrote making your face heat up in embarrassment. One person even said that you were going to make them all fail if you don’t rewrite the whole paper.

You were confused but texted them back that you would look over it again. Going back to your paper you reread everything and you understood what they were talking about. What you wrote was jumbled and didn’t make sense at all. It didn’t fit what the whole project was about and you groaned out in frustration. You grabbed your paper and crumpled it up, throwing it behind you not knowing that it hit someone.

“Hey! Watch the tits bro.” Your girlfriend joked which usually made you laugh but all you let out was a little defeated sigh. “Sorry…” you apologized and you felt your chair spin around and you were face to face with your brown headed girlfriend. “Hey…you don’t need to apologize to me babe.” Billie reassured you and you just sat there staring off making Billie worry. “Okay what’s going on. You’ve been up here all day in the office and you look like you are about to pass out.” She said and you whimpered making her get down on her knees so she’s eye level with you.

“I just…I feel so stupid bils! My stupid brain and my learning disability.” You explained to her and how your partners were making you feel like shit. “Hey hey now. First of all, you aren’t stupid, second of all, they are shit heads who don’t know what they are talking about. Fuck them. You are the smartest and talented girl I know. Don’t let their peanut sized Brains make you think any differently do you understand?” Billie says and you nodded your head slowly. “I still have to write this stupid paper and on top of that I have to start completely over since I messed up.” You sigh and Billie gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t I read your project over and help you with your paper hm?” She suggested and you gave her a big smile. “Would you please? I don’t get it whatsoever and I feel like my head is gonna explode.” You explained and she giggles. “I know baby but how about I read it over and rewrite it to where you can understand it better how’s that?” She offered and you felt your eyes burn with tears. “Oh bils…you are the sweetest ever. What did I do to deserve you?” You say as you stand up from your chair and place a kiss on her plump lips, making her kiss you back immediately.

“Okay. Now go to bed and rest. I’ll be there to join you in a bit alright?” She softly demanded you and you nodded. You walked over to the bed and got underneath the covers as you watched Billie read over the project and write down some stuff before joining you. You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than Billie, who never made you feel stupid or slow. She loved you as you are.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! As someone who has a learning disability this was very nice to write. Anyone who has some sort of learning disability, know that no matter what anyone says to you, you are smart and capable just like everyone else and I’m proud of you :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! <3

[sturniololuvz]

Could you write a fic where like there sisters only 17 and they find a positive pregnancy test and at first there mad and asking who the guy is but then they support her the whole way if that makes sense

omg yes!!! I LOVE THIS ONEEEEE

“Always By Your Side”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : crying , yelling , comforting

Y/N had been keeping a secret.

For weeks, she’d been feeling off—tired, nauseous, emotional. At first, she brushed it off as stress, but deep down, she knew something was wrong. So, with shaking hands and a racing heart, she bought a pregnancy test and took it in the safety of her bathroom.

And when the test turned positive, her world flipped upside down.

She didn’t know how to tell her brothers.

How could she? They were protective, overbearing, and sometimes a little dramatic. She wasn’t ready for their reaction—wasn’t ready for the yelling, the disappointment, the questions. So, she hid the test in the bathroom trash and planned to figure things out on her own.

Except she wasn’t careful enough.

Discovery & Breakdown

“Y/N!”

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard Nick’s voice from the hallway, sharp and panicked.

“Come here. Now.”

Swallowing hard, she stepped out of her room and into the bathroom doorway—where all three of her brothers stood, staring at the small plastic stick in Matt’s hand.

Chris was the first to break the silence. “Tell me this isn’t yours.”

Her throat tightened. Her hands shook. She couldn’t find her voice.

“Y/N,” Matt tried, his voice softer than Nick’s but still filled with urgency, “please tell me this is some kind of joke.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She had no way out of this.

Nick ran a hand through his hair, his face contorted in anger, confusion, and worry. “Who’s the guy? When did this happen? Are you seriously—?”

“I don’t—I don’t wanna talk about it,” she choked out, her voice trembling as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Not an option,” Chris snapped, pacing the bathroom. “Y/N, this is serious! We need to know who did this, what’s going on—”

“I don’t need you guys yelling at me!” she suddenly screamed, her emotions boiling over. “I already know I messed up! I’m scared, and I don’t need you three making it worse!”

The triplets fell silent at her outburst. The only sound was Y/N’s quiet sobs as she buried her face in her hands.

Matt was the first to move. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She clung to him, shaking, as Chris and Nick softened, their anger melting into something else—concern.

“Hey,” Nick sighed, rubbing his face. “We’re not mad at you. We’re just… freaking out.”

Chris exhaled heavily, nodding. “Yeah. But you don’t have to do this alone, okay?”

Y/N sniffled, pulling back to look at them. “You guys aren’t… mad at me?”

Matt shook his head. “We’re worried. But you’re our sister, Y/N. We’ve got you.”

The First Trimester - Morning Sickness & Mood Swings

The next few weeks were brutal.

Morning sickness hit her hard. She spent most mornings in the bathroom, curled over the toilet, feeling miserable.

Chris was the one who started waking up early to make sure she had crackers and ginger ale.

Nick took charge of making doctor’s appointments, reading way too many pregnancy articles, and constantly asking, “Are you drinking enough water?”

Matt, always the peacemaker, was there for every emotional breakdown—whether it was crying over a sad commercial or getting irrationally mad when they brought home the wrong kind of ice cream.

“Okay, I love you guys,” she sniffled one night, curled up on the couch, “but if one more person tells me to drink water, I’m throwing something.”

Chris immediately hid his water bottle behind his back.

The Second Trimester - Cravings & Baby Kicks

By the second trimester, things got easier. The morning sickness faded, and her energy returned. But the cravings were wild.

At 2 a.m., she shook Nick awake.

“I need pickles and peanut butter.”

He groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was back with pickles, peanut butter, and a very annoyed expression.

Then came the first time the baby kicked.

She gasped, grabbing Matt’s arm. “Oh my God, she moved!”

His eyes widened, and he immediately called for the others.

The three of them took turns feeling her belly, their excitement making her heart swell.

“That’s so weird,” Chris muttered in awe.

Nick grinned. “That’s so cool.”

Matt just shook his head with a soft smile. “She’s gonna be so loved.”

The Third Trimester - Nesting & Nerves

As the due date got closer, the triplets went into full big brother mode.

Chris built the crib (with only minimal cursing), Matt organized all the baby clothes, and Nick made sure the hospital bag was packed perfectly.

But one night, Y/N broke down.

“What if I’m not ready?” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “What if I’m a terrible mom?”

Nick knelt beside her, taking her hand. “You’re gonna be amazing, Y/N. And you’re not alone. We’re right here.”

“Yeah,” Chris added. “You and Baby Girl? You’ve got the best uncles ever.”

Matt smiled. “She’s lucky to have you.”

And for the first time in months, Y/N truly believed them.

The Birth - Meeting Baby Girl

When labor hit, chaos erupted.

Chris nearly passed out.

Nick was screaming at the hospital staff.

Matt was the calmest—holding her hand, whispering, “You got this, Y/N.”

And after hours of pain, tears, and sheer exhaustion—she heard the first cry of her baby girl.

She sobbed as they placed her daughter in her arms, her tiny fingers curling around Y/N’s.

“She’s beautiful,” Matt whispered.

Nick wiped his eyes, pretending he wasn’t crying. “She’s so small.”

Chris, still in shock, muttered, “I’m gonna teach her the best pranks.”

Y/N laughed through her tears, looking down at her daughter—her whole world.

And as she held her little girl, surrounded by the three boys who never left her side, she knew one thing for sure.

No matter what, they would always be a family.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is finally happy, and he knows it's because of you. The way you want to try new things with him in bed makes him feel wild. And the way you love his son makes him feel calm. But when you read a piece of mail before he's ready for you to see it, your reaction has him feeling something new.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, anal sex, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley anxiously awaited for his appointment with Tracy to begin. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she asked him to stop by on his way home from work, but he was here now. And he had his checkbook with him. 

"I owe you some money," he said when she finally called him back.

"Sure, but we have other things to talk about," she said, ushering him over to her conference table while she opened up a Red Bull.

His stomach lurched. "It is about Meredith? Is it bad?" He was finally starting to be able to enjoy every day he spent with you and Noah. He didn't have to worry about things constantly, because you were happy to help him with his son and his house. When he got home with Noah the other day, you were changing that lightbulb on the front porch that he'd been meaning to get to. And you kept trying to help him pay his mortgage. 

"Yes, it's about Meredith. Just have a seat."

Bradley sat and looked at her expectantly. "Has she been released or something? Do I need to call my girl?"

"No, no," she said, waving him off as she took a sip. "She's been sentenced."

Now Bradley's heart was really pounding. Tracy had told him that Meredith would most likely get five to fifteen years for the fraud charges. Five would be devastating, simply because Noah would still be a minor when she was released. Fifteen would be ideal. Noah would be over eighteen and a legal adult. A fight for custody or money would be a moot point. And well, if Bradley had another child with you, that would have nothing legally to do with his ex at all. 

"Please tell me this is good, Tracy. I just want to solidify my life right now exactly as it is. No more messing around with protective orders and broken windows. My kid is happy, and I am happy."

She smiled and said, "You're about to get even happier. Fifteen years." 

Bradley was out of his seat with his fist in the air immediately. "Hell yes! Any chance at parole?" he asked. 

"There's always a chance. We'll keep an eye on things." 

She and he talked for a bit after that, and he felt his body ease back comfortably in the seat. Bradley wrote out a check and left it with Tracy, and then she handed him a folder full of information on adopting a stepchild in California. And a second folder with a preliminary copy of his updated will.

When he got home with his checkbook in his hand, he found you and Noah in the kitchen, and both of you were wearing more peanut butter than the carrots on the cutting board in front of you were. But you were laughing, and so was he, and the house smelled like dinner was cooking.

"I'm home," Bradley said from the kitchen doorway, and you spun in surprise. 

"Hi, Daddy," you said as you rushed for him with your messy hands held out at your sides. "You're already done with Tracy?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss you as Noah brought him ants on a log. "Fifteen years," he murmured, and you leaned in for another kiss with a soft, pleased laugh. 

"Really?"

"We can talk more later," he said, keeping one arm around your waist as he lifted Noah up and opened his mouth for the messy carrot stick. He kissed Noah while he chewed and then said, "Thanks, Bub. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. We did a puppet show," he said before squirming out of Bradley's arm to go make a bigger mess. And that left Bradley holding you and his checkbook. 

"Casey asked me to say hi to you when I picked Noah up," you whispered with a little grin on your face as you reached for the checkbook. "I told her I would if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged this evening."

Bradley snorted. "You didn't."

"I did," you confirmed, waving his checkbook in the air between two fingers before tossing it onto the counter. "Who are you writing checks to, old man? I already told you, everyone uses payment apps."

"Tracy," he said. "I'm pretty sure she's older than me."

"Nobody is older than you, Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley took your wrists and guided both of your hands to his mouth. He watched your lips part silently as he licked the healed scar on your palm before sucking your thumb into his mouth. You squeaked as he cleaned the peanut butter from each of your fingers individually as you stepped a little closer to him. 

"Who you calling old?" he asked before kissing your palm and squeezing your hip. He made a show of switching to the other hand as you rubbed your core against the front of his pants. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned for him. "Shh," he scolded. "Behave." 

But you were only wearing thin scrub pants, and Bradley didn't actually want you to behave. One glance at Noah proved that he was absorbed with emptying a large canister of raisins onto the counter, so Bradley finished with your hand and then palmed both of your butt cheeks at the same time. He squeezed, really enjoying the feel of you as he whispered, "Are you wearing it?"

"No," you gasped. "I just got home from work!"

Bradley shrugged. "You've been wearing it around the past few days. Here and there."

You glanced at Noah over your shoulder before you whispered, "It makes me horny. I can't wear it to work! I'll get fired!"

Bradley chuckled and then he tightened his grip on your ass and said, "Go put it in."

Your teeth immediately sank into your lip. "Now?"

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Like my good girl."

You scampered off to the bedroom, saying, "Take the casserole out of the oven," as you went.

---------------------------

You knew to take your time with your silicone plug now. Use lots of lube and relax. As soon as you finished inserting it, you were practically moaning for Bradley to put his cock in your pussy. You were kind of addicted to the way it felt when he and the toy were both inside you at the same time. With a few deep breaths, you eased your underwear and your scrub pants back up your legs and made your way back to the kitchen. 

Bradley and Noah were sitting at the table with the casserole dish, and when you met your boyfriend's eyes, he was grinning. "Well?" he asked, reaching for your hand. 

"You know it, Daddy," you replied, and even though you weren't trying to, your voice took on a needy edge. 

He grunted softly, his eyes half lidded now as he patted the chair next to him. Noah was already eating his dinner, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice the way Bradley was looking at you like you were for dessert. You eased yourself onto the seat and whimpered softly as Bradley leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips. 

"I love you, Baby," he murmured before brushing your cheek with his nose. "I can't wait to take you to the lake house next weekend. We'll pack your little toy."

He started kissing along your neck, and you didn't think you'd make it through dinner at this rate. Your nipples were hard, and he was barely even touching you. Desperate for a distraction, you tried to reach for the casserole without rolling your hips too much.

"Daddy?" Noah asked. "Can we get a dog?"

"A dog?" Bradley asked, his attention shifting slightly from you to his son. "I already got you a Mommy, isn't that enough?" You snorted with laughter, but Noah was undeterred. 

"I want a dog."

"Noah, if we get a dog, somehow it will end up being my responsibility. Maybe when you're older," Bradley said. But he was pouting, and he looked like he was going to cry. 

"Daddy," you whined softly with a little grin. "I always wanted a dog, too." 

Now Bradley was looking back and forth between you and Noah, before settling on you. "Are you really going to do this to me right now? You could probably get away with murder at the moment, Princess."

"Isn't that always the case?" you asked sweetly as you shifted a bit in your seat and served yourself some dinner. 

Bradley groaned and held his forehead in his hand. "Can we talk about this later?" he begged, glancing at you between his fingers. But you were busy smiling at his son. 

"We'll work on it, okay sweet Noah?" you whispered. 

"Okay," Noah agreed softly before he started eating again.

But teasing Bradley about the dog definitely backfired on you later on the couch. Noah wanted to watch a Disney movie, so Bradley sat in the middle of the couch with your head resting on one thigh and Noah's on the other. The Princess and the Frog was playing, because Bradley insisted you deserved a princess movie. And everything was perfect. His hand was heavy on your side, stroking you through your clothing in the most delicious way.

When the movie was nearly finished, Bradley murmured, "Noah's asleep," as his hand skimmed along your hip. Then inch by inch, his fingers worked their way along your butt until he was cupping you with one big hand. Then you felt him prod you through your clothing, running one long finger across the base of your toy. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he very gently pressed it further into you. Full. You were so full. After days of wearing it for an hour here and there, you thought maybe you were ready for more. 

You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder and wiggled against his hand. The way he slowly shook his head and licked his lips made you feel like you were in control of this. But you supposed you always were. Then he eased his hand up to your lower back and teased at the waistband of your pants and underwear before dipping it inside. 

Rough skin on yours had your eyes fluttering closed. "Look at me, Baby," he whispered, and you clenched for him. "Look at me while I touch you."

You did as you were told, but he subtly let you know you were still in charge. His brown eyes were sincere and open as he cupped your rear end, moving the plug incrementally. Pushing, pulling, tugging and teasing. When you whimpered, he pushed his fingers forward to your pussy. 

"Daddy," you gasped as he pushed his rough fingers through your folds.

He spanked your pussy lightly until you were afraid you'd start getting loud. "Go get yourself in bed," he instructed. Then he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. When you rolled onto your belly, your cheek and hand rubbed against his cock in his pants. "I'll come take care of you in a minute."

"Yes, Daddy." You kissed Noah's cheek and then leaned down to taste yourself on Bradley's lips. Then you ran into the bedroom and tossed all of your clothing into the hamper, replacing all of it with a new matching bra and thong you paid for with his credit card. "Damn it," you whined. The toy was making you squirm for release, and you were half tempted to touch yourself. You were nervous, but only slightly, because you knew Bradley would do whatever you told him to. So you grabbed the lube from your drawer and settled onto your beautiful, new bed. 

--------------------------

Shit. You were already touching yourself when Bradley walked into the bedroom. Black lingerie, your purple plug peeking out, and you on your back with your fingers in your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. You looked so young and innocent, even with your ass full of that toy. Bradley couldn't believe the words he was about to speak out loud. "Will you let me fuck you in the ass?"

Wide eyed and writhing around on your back on the bed, you nodded at him. "Yes." He was determined to do this just right. He never wanted to hurt you. He always wanted you to feel good when you were with him. Carefully he removed his jeans and joined you on the bed with his cock hard in his briefs. 

"You've been teasing me with that toy all night," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips and pulling away so you'd chase him for more. "Time to see if you can handle something a little bigger."

You whined for him as he kissed down your body. "You're a lot bigger," you gasped when he nibbled on you through your bra. "You'll go slow?"

Bradley hummed against your skin, stretching up to kiss your neck. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. And if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Okay," you whispered. "Just go slow."

He could hear the slight edge of apprehension in your voice, so he took your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. He wanted to be sure this was a good type of nervous, not a bad one. "You are under no obligation to do this, Princess. You already give me more than enough." 

"I know," you replied, meeting his lips with yours.

But he pulled back and forced you to look him in the eye. "Tell me one more time that this is what you want. And tell me that you trust me."

You nibbled on your lip before you said, "I always trust you. And I want to try this. Now make me feel good."

Bradley was grinning as he slipped his hand down your belly and tucked it inside your black underwear. The swirl of his fingers on your clit had you gasping, and soon he pulled your underwear off. You were already wet when he put his mouth on you, and then Bradley thought about edging you to make you squirt for him. But your fingers were rough in his hair, and he knew he would be too far gone to be as gentle as possible if he did that. So he took his time, burying his nose and mouth in your sweet pussy, and licking you everywhere until you came for him. Then he licked all around that plug and admired the tight pucker of your hole wrapped around it.

"Fuck," he gasped, placing a kiss to your inner thigh. He was going to find out just how tight you were. As you rode the little jolts of pleasure still going through your body, Bradley carefully wrapped his arms around your back and got you onto all fours. "Try it like this?" he asked, caging your body in beneath his.

Your words were a little incoherent as you bucked back against him, and he could feel the base of your toy against his cock through his underwear. Oh hell, he needed to pull himself together. He needed something familiar to calm himself down. Bradley unclasped your bra and pressed his chest to your back, watching the strap slide down your arm. Your hips were rocking back, and he moved in unison with you, planting his left hand on the bed and rubbing your tits with his right. 

He kissed along your spine and moaned, "You'll put me in an early grave, I swear it." Your soft giggle had him dragging his lips along your shoulder until he was kissing your neck. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered, and it was the sweetest thing. So Bradley stood on his knees behind you, admiring the way you and that toy looked as he spread your legs wide. When he slid his underwear down, his cock bounced up to tap you, nudging the plug and making you groan. He didn't know how this was going to work as he pumped his hand along his girth before slipping himself into your pussy. And that was the familiar thing he needed, clearing his mind as you whined, "I feel so full. My toy and my Daddy."

Bradley smirked and rubbed himself against the base as held your hips. "Just wait," he warned playfully. The pretty curve of your back had him running his hand up and everywhere along your silky skin. Your hair smelled like wildflowers when he kissed your back. And then you were begging him to do it. 

He reached for the lube and drizzled it all over you before coating his cock liberally. Then he fucked your pussy with steady strokes as he carefully eased the toy out of you as you gasped. Your perfect hole gripped along the plug, and Bradley had to count to ten to calm himself down. "Baby," he groaned, tossing the toy aside. "You ready?"

"Yes."

His cock was shiny and slick, resting on his palm, and then he was pressing himself to your asshole, convinced you were going to tell him to stop. You were so tight, he had to bite down on his lip as he pushed. And then you were whining, "More. More," as you squeezed the tip of him so much, he was afraid he'd black out. 

"Princess," he growled, head tipped back as he pushed slowly. So slowly. He was dizzy from it, the slow pace driving him to the edge. "So tight. Holy hell." And then you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes were glazed over with need, and your lips were parted softly. 

"Feels good," you gasped, and he reached out to run his thumb along your lip. You kissed him. You were perfect. He pushed himself a little deeper, and you kissed his thumb again. He looked down to see himself buried inside you as you licked his thumb. 

"God damn it," he cursed, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He dipped his thumb into your mouth and whispered, "I can't last like this. Too fucking good. So tight." He was shaking his head, but you were nodding and swirling your tongue along his thumb. He withdrew an inch and thrust, and you started keening. 

If Bradley managed even ten strokes inside your ass, it was a miracle. He went slowly, but it was too much. And you were loud, spurring him on with his thumb tucked between your lips and pressed to your tongue.

Every time you tightened around him, he knew he was going to cum. He was just biding his time for a few more seconds, and then it was too much. He tried to keep his movements steady and fluid as he came inside you, but they were a little jerky. He was grunting your name over and over, trying to get himself under control. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice rough as he slipped his thumb out of your mouth. 

"Mmm, yes," you moaned. "It only hurt a little, and then it felt good."

Bradley brought both hands to your hips and stroked you as he started to gently withdraw from your body. And then his jaw went slack as you were puckered around his tip. It was going to look so pretty, he just knew it. 

"Baby," he whined when he pulled himself free. His white cum was at your opening, and he watched that first droplet as it slid down to your pussy and dripped onto the bed. You were oozing with his finish, and he was transfixed. 

You said his name and made to roll over, but Bradley kept you still with his big hands on your thighs. "Shh," he coaxed as another long drop fell to the bed. And then he licked you clean as you mewled and whimpered. He lapped up every bit of his cum as it leaked out of you, and he cleaned up your pussy as well. 

"Bradley," you whispered as he gently rolled you to your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled on top of you, careful to keep his full body weight from hurting you. The fucked out, exhausted expression on your face made him smile.

"You did so good, Baby."

"I know," you agreed. "I liked it."

His lips were ghosting over yours as he asked, "Do you need anything? Want me to get a shower ready for us?"

"In a couple minutes," you replied easily. And then Bradley rolled you both to your sides and snuggled you against him with one big hand on your ass.

---------------------------

You were just trying to get through your day at work on Thursday. You just needed to make it to Friday morning when the three of you would be driving up to the lake house to meet Mav, Penny and Amelia. But two of your coworkers were out sick, and you had to pick up all the slack. You even had to text Bradley and let him know you wouldn't be able to pick Noah up or start dinner. 

Bradley Daddy Bradshaw: Take your time. I'll make sandwiches for dinner. See you at home.

Once you had all of the exam rooms cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Kelly found you and said, "Go home. Enjoy your long weekend with your family. That little Noah is the cutest thing."

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, he knows he's adorable. It's getting to be a problem. See you next week." 

Then you made your way to your car and thought about how you and Noah were most definitely going to wear Bradley down, and soon enough you'd have a dog at home. You'd even been working on a shortlist of names for when that fateful day arrived. You picked up a few pet themed coloring books on your lunch break, and when you pulled into the driveway, you took the bag from the front seat. 

The mail truck was just pulling up to your house; he must have been having a late day, too. You walked to the curb to meet him, and he handed everything to you with a wave. As you walked up to the porch, you picked your envelopes out of the stack and left Bradley's separate. Great, your student loan statement was here. You couldn't wait to see how your last payment barely put a dent in things. 

"Hi," you called out as you walked through the living room. "Sorry, I'm so late." But when you looked into the kitchen, Bradley was still in his uniform, calmly making a turkey and cheese sandwich and cutting it into little triangles while Noah colored. 

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bradley rasped, and you kissed his shoulder through his shirt. "I'll make your sandwich next." But you'd already moved on to Noah, smothering him in kisses while he laughed. 

"Check out this dog themed coloring book," you said loudly, earning a glare from Bradley as you set it down in front of Noah. "Isn't this little brown puppy on the cover just adorable?"

"I want a dog," Noah whined as he opened the cover and got to work. You were betting you'd have a dog by next month. 

"Relentless," Bradley groaned, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. "Ready for the lake?"

"Yes. And definitely." He tried to hand you a sandwich on a plate, but you said, "Let me go through my mail first before I forget. I want to make sure I log in and make my student loan payment tonight before we leave in the morning." You took the sandwich from him and noticed that he looked a little timid now. "What's wrong?"

"Well. Nothing's wrong," he said quietly as you bit into the sandwich and then set it down again to open up your envelope. But he had you distracted, and you realized too late that you had opened a piece of his mail from Tracy by mistake. You skimmed along the page and you gasped as tears welled up in your eyes. 

I, Bradley Bradshaw, a legal adult of sound mind and competency, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament (hereinafter, “Last Will & Testament”) and do hereby revoke any and all wills and codicils heretofore made jointly or severally by me.

In the event I shall die as the sole parent of minor child(ren), then I appoint as guardian over minor child(ren)

You stopped when you read your name and dropped the papers to the floor as you burst into tears. "Bradley," you gasped, and he looked up from where he was putting mayonnaise on a slice of bread. You bent to pick up the papers, but you were so emotional, you could barely see, so you just sat on the floor next to them and looked up at him. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down and cupping your face in his hands. "Princess, tell me what's wrong."

You swiped at your tears with your hands and whispered, "You trust me that much?"

"What are you talking about, Baby?" he asked, and then he reached for one of the papers on the floor. "Your student loans?"

He was about to realize what you had read, so you quickly said, "I didn't mean to open it, I tore into the wrong envelope. I thought it was my student-"

Bradley silenced your sentence with a kiss as you sobbed. When he released your lips, you could still feel his nose on your cheek as you tried to get your breathing under control. "Yes. I trust you that much. If something happens to me, I know you'll take care of Noah."

You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him back onto his butt and climbed into his lap. "I would. I really would."

He held you close and softly said, "I was planning on telling you this weekend. The paperwork isn't finalized yet, but I can call Tracy's office and have it completed at any time."

You kissed him and said, "Call first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll call first thing tomorrow morning." He was smiling as you let your forehead rest against his. 

"Why are you on the floor?" Noah asked, leaning over the table to look at you both. 

Bradley scooped you up as he stood and set you down on your feet, but you kept your arms around him. "Mommy was just being silly, Bub. How about you put the crayons down and eat your sandwich." Then he kissed your hair and said, "You better eat your sandwich, too."

You took your plate and the mail to the table and sat down across from Noah. You watched him sip his milk through a straw cup and then eat all of the cheese out of the sandwich first. He was perfect. And you'd never have to be without him. Bradley trusted you with his child more than anyone else. And you knew he wanted to have another one.

As he sat down next to you with his own sandwich and a beer, you opened your student loan envelope and started to read. But you could feel his eyes on you as he sipped his Heineken. 

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked softly, wiping at at stray tear.

"Just read your mail," he replied. When you looked back down at the paper in your hands, you saw that instead of nearly ten thousand dollars, your balance due for nursing school was zero.

"What did you do?" you gasped, looking him in the eye. 

He just shrugged and bit into his own sandwich, smiling as he chewed. "Paid off your loans. Your interest rate was so high, you'd still be paying on them by the time you're my age. Which is dumb when I have the money to take care of it now."

"Bradley!" Your eyes were welling with tears again as you said, "You didn't have to do that!"

His voice was stern as you crawled into his lap again. "I trust you with Noah, one hundred percent. The money doesn't matter as much as that."

You let your head rest on his shoulder as you straddled his thigh, and his big hand was rubbing your back. "You still didn't have to," you whispered. "But thank you. And now I can help you with your mortgage and bills instead."

"You just save your money, and we'll figure it out later."

But you already knew you'd talk him into letting you pay for something. And the rest could go into a savings account for school for Noah. And anything leftover could be used to plan for the exciting future you were going to experience with the two of them. 

---------------------------

Daddy keeps on winning now. And Princess doesn't have to worry about the things that shouldn't matter. Next up, the lake house. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 37

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[ordinary-barbie]

oceanic feeling.

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: You and Rafe are expecting a baby, so naturally, you banter about what to name them.

tags: pregnancy, cursing, suggestive references, allusion to Rafe's mom being dead, mentions of anxiety, lots of fluff

In the future If I have a daughter Will she have my waist Or my widow's peak? My dreamer's disposition or my wicked streak?

— "Oceanic Feeling," by Lorde

“Rafe Cameron, Jr.,” your husband said, smiling like he’d just discovered the greatest idea ever.

You arched your eyebrow, putting your book aside. “Rafe, what are you talking about?”

Rafe grinned bashfully. “Hey, sweetheart. Jus’ thinking up names for the lil peanut.” He rubbed your belly, even though you were only a few weeks pregnant and had no signs of a bump yet.

You and Rafe had met in college. He was a cocky frat bro and you were the sarcastic English major forced to partner up with him on a project. Fast forward a few years later and the two of you were living in domestic bliss in the house Rafe had built in Figure 8, close enough to easily see his family but still afforded you some distance. After two years of marriage, you and Rafe began trying for a baby, feeling like you were in a good enough place to add another member to your family. You’d finally gotten those two pink lines on your pregnancy test a few days ago, and while you were elated, it was nothing compared to how Rafe reacted. He’d sobbed happy tears, and you remembered hugging him deeply, taking a moment to absorb the good news.

“And the best you could come up with is naming them after yourself? How conceited,” you teased.

Rafe scoffed, sticking his tongue out at you. “Hey, Rafe is a very strong name, all right? It means ‘wolf counsel.’ That’s fuckin badass.”

“Sure, but isn’t one Rafe Cameron enough? I don’t think the world is ready for two,” you dryly responded. “Besides, what if we have a girl?”

Rafe smirked. “Then she’ll be...Rafella.”

You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to hide your grin. “I can’t stand you.”

“Oh really? You sure were able to stand me last night,” Rafe quipped. “‘Oh Rafey, your cock feels so good! Please fill me up!’”

Your body tingled with mortification. “Shut up, Rafe,” you grumbled, shoving him. He just laughed in response.

“Well let’s hear some of your ideas, babe,” Rafe said, smirking at you.

You brightened up. You were the type of nerd to have an actual list of potential baby names. You unlocked your phone, going into your notes app.

“I got a bunch of names right here,” you replied, handing your phone over to Rafe.

His eyes scanned the list, studying it intently. Then he let out a scoff. "Callum, really?'

"It's an adorable name!" you argued.

"It sounds like callus. You want our son to be called Callus Cameron?" Rafe scrunched up his nose as if he'd smelled something rotten.

"I like the alliteration," you quipped. "Keep reading, wise guy."

Rafe returned to the list, reading it with an expressionless look. You wrung your hands together, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your choices, especially since he'd already vetoed one of your favorites. You'd picked a lot of them before you'd become a Cameron, so you had to worry about any choices fitting the last name, you didn't know what types of names he liked—

"Babe, you okay? I can practically hear you overthinking," Rafe gently teased you. You thought about brushing off his concern, but Rafe could read you like a book. He knew that despite your quips and snark, there was always anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. Despite all your years together—and the rock on your finger—you couldn't help but fret over Rafe's opinion of you.

You shrugged. "I dunno Rafe. I just—I don't want you to think any of my name choices are stupid," you admitted, worrying at your lower lip.

Rafe captured your lip between his fingers, rubbing it soothingly. "Look, I know I gave you shit earlier, and I'm sorry. But I do value your input," he assured you, looking at you with utter fondness. "We're probably gonna disagree on stuff, but that's okay. Doesn't mean I love you any less."

A warmth bloomed in your chest and spread throughout your body, putting you at ease. Rafe pulled you closer to him so you could review the list together. "Miles...I like that one for a boy," Rafe said, pointing at one of the first names on your list.

"Miles Cameron," you said, enjoying how the mix of letters sounded in your mouth. "I like that."

"See? This is why you're the smart one in the relationship," Rafe joked, gazing at you fondly.

You rolled your eyes amusedly, shaking your head. "See anything you like from the girls' side?"

Rafe tapped his chin, pretending to be lost in thought. "I dunno... [your name] is pretty cute."

You felt your face grow hot. "Rafe! Come on, stick to the list."

Rafe chuckled, stroking your side as he pored over the list. He was more vocal about the girls' names, picking out a bunch that he liked, but one in particular stopped him in his tracks: Matilda.

"You put my mom's name on here," Rafe murmured.

You shrugged bashfully. "I figured it could be a nice tribute. But if you're not cool with it, I can—"

Rafe silenced you with a kiss before enveloping you in his arms. "Baby, no. I love that idea."

You smiled softly at Rafe, though inside, your heart was bursting. "You know what? I think we're gonna be okay parents."

"Yeah?" Rafe was full-on grinning now. "You're gonna be a fucking awesome mom. Definitely the hottest one in the neighborhood."

You slipped out of Rafe's embrace to sock him in the arm. "You are so annoying," you grumbled, trying to keep from giggling. "I already feel sorry for our future child."

"Too bad—you and the peanut are stuck with me," Rafe replied smoothly, kissing your forehead. You let out a dramatic sigh before leaning into your husband.

Honestly? Not a bad fate for you, all things considered.

note: maybe I'll write a flashback to when they first met...the possiblities...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[bitchesuntitled]

Broken Hearts Mended

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader, Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Minors, get out! Language(at this rate, just expect it. That's just me), Pregnancy, Dieter trying to fix his past, sad!Dieter, dad!Dieter, smut, pinv, oral(m!recieving), wedding crasher!Dieter, TIME TRAVEL, OFC

a/n: This is for the Roll-A-Trope Challenge by @burntheedges I got Time Travel! Never dabbled with that before but it was fun and sheesh, Kate- this is the longest story I've ever written! This could be considered a part two of Some Broken Hearts Never Mend but can be read as a standalone! The OFC is based off my bestie IRL @hessofather - thank you for being you, for helping me with the witchy stuff, and love ya bitch! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jay-zzle(for the moodboard &) for your eyes on this one! Love you both!

Masterlist||AO3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He’d been staring at the clock for an eternity or what felt like an eternity. Today was the day, the day Dieter’s been dreading since he found out. 

Today is your wedding day.

In typical Hollywood fashion, a friend of a friend let it slip when the wedding was. Saturday afternoon, 3 pm to be exact. Mark was supposed to be on standby to ensure Dieter stayed at home today and didn’t do something stupid, but what Mark didn’t expect was to be locked in the pantry with Dieter sitting outside.

“Dieter, come on man,” Mark pleaded, “Think about this before you do something dumb.”

“Would it really be that bad if I went?!”

“Yes,” Mark sighed, “Dieter, you need to let her go. If you go to that hotel all that will happen is you make a fool of yourself and embarrass her!”

“Embarrass her?!” Dieter scoffs, looking at the closed door with offense. “I got sober for fucks sake! For her and she didn’t even let me see my kid! Instead that bastard is playing daddy to my Lexi! My peanut!”

“Dieter!” Mark shouts, slamming his fists against the door, “Let me out and let’s talk face-to-face about this.”

“Sheesh Mark, calm down,” Dieter says, glancing at the clock, “If I go, maybe she’ll see me and remember how much she loved me. I gotta try right?”

“Dieter, please,” Mark sighs, “Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea.”

“I have to try, Mark.”

“Damn it, Dieter!”

More punches are being thrown at the pantry door as Dieter slowly backs away from it.

“If I don’t try now, I’m just going to spend the rest of my life wondering what if!” Dieter shouts, “Mark, you gotta understand that man.”

—

Dieter was able to bribe a waiter into letting him in through the kitchen, he had tried the front but the hotel staff quickly guided him right back through the front door. The place was gorgeous, decked in all navy blue, gold, and white, and the flower petals spread down the aisle he stood in front of. Joel is standing next to the officiant, fiddling with the gold cufflinks on his wrists. The bridal song began and everyone looked back at Dieter.

He stood there frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard the door behind him open, he turned slowly. There you were, standing before him in a gorgeous flowy white gown.

“Dieter?” You asked, confusion painted across your face before it turned into a silent rage.

“I- I need-“ he began, trying to think of what to say.

“Jesus Christ,” your father muttered under his breath before shouting for security.

“Wait-“ Dieter gasped, as two men in suits grabbed his arms pulling him towards the hall, “Please! Let me just ha-“

“Wait!,” you shout panicked, before clearing your throat, “Sorry everyone,” you announce, “Let me just take care of this real quick then we’ll be ready to get this wedding started.”

Dieter was dumbfounded. You were actually going to listen to him. You wanted to hear what he had to say. He knew it! He still had a chance. You let go of your dad’s arm and looped it around Dieter’s, leading him out into the hallway with a polite reassuring smile to your guests.

In another life, this would be the way it went. You in your gorgeous wedding dress, walking down an aisle on his arm, smiling politely to your guests before he whisked you away to ravish you the entire night. Once the doors closed, you stepped away from him clearing your throat.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hiss, the rage in you tipping over its boiling point.

“I wanted to-“ he starts softly before you interrupt him again.

“Wanted what Dieter?!” You seethe, “Did you not feel it was enough when you showed up at my home? My work? Lexi’s fucking school?”

“I didn’t think-“ he winces, knowing immediately those are the wrong words with the laugh you let out.

“No Dieter, you didn’t fucking think,” you scoff, “You’ve spent the past six years not fucking thinking and it’s shown plenty!”

“Baby-“ Dieter tries again.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” You stop him, “Dieter, you need to leave. I’m marrying Joel and Lexi finally has a dad who wants her and loves her.”

“But I do love her,” Dieter says, tears blurring his vision, “That’s why I stayed away from you both. I love you both so much, I didn’t want you wrapped up in my shit and I’m trying to change!”

You shake your head with a sigh.

“You just have to give me another chance,” he whimpers, the tears steadily falling down his face.

“No,” you say quietly, “You’ve had enough chances.”

—

You were officially done with his shit and let him know he’d be hearing from your lawyers on Monday. His heart broken, his mind felt numb, and Dieter’s legs began to move. He felt like pins and needles were pricking all over his skin, trying to ignore the feeling, he began to speed up. He’d be fine as long as he kept moving. His chest felt like there was a weight on it, trying to catch his breath.

He needed to find somewhere with air conditioning, maybe it’s the heat finally getting to him. Standing outside a store called Vixen’s. Huh, he thought, a sex shop would be the perfect way to distract his mind. A dinging sound chimes as he enters the store.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery feminine voice calls out from the back, “I’ll be right with you.”

Dieter stood next to a counter, focusing on his breathing. The place smelled like sage, rose, and lavender. This was definitely not a sex shop. His hands held onto the counter in front of him as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet aroma of the shop. Whatever it was, it was working to help calm him down.

“Sir?” A feminine voice called out to him, “Ya alright?”

Dieter looked towards the voice to see a short woman with auburn hair standing next to a door that stated Employees Only. He gave a short nod, signaling he was okay. He just had to focus on his breathing.

“Fuck!” She gasped, flailing her hands in the air, “It’s you! C’mere!”

“Huh?” Dieter asked in confusion, trying to catch his breath.

“C’mere!” She said more sternly, motioning for him to follow her, “Been expectin’ you to show up any day now and you’re finally here!”

Dieter began to follow the stranger apprehensively down a hall, passing multiple doors, as she began to talk more.

“The names’ Willow Vixen. Now that you’re here, maybe I can finally stop using the rose.” She states, wrinkling her nose, “Not my favorite but that’s what the ball suggested for your arrival. Considering it doesn’t give me much of a time frame I figured fuck it and just started making sure it was around at all times.”

“Ball?” Dieter asks, his legs taking over, continuing to follow Willow until they meet a door that has her name on it, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”

“Not yet, Dieter,” Willow hums, grabbing a key ring from her belt loops, and unlocking the door, “When we get inside I’ll explain.”

Once she opened the door, he was hit with a powerful smell of sage and rosemary. She ushered him in, closing the door behind her.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a table in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t sure what he was even doing here. Following a stranger into some back room of a store sounded like the beginnings of some ritual sacrifice and by the way her office was set up, it looked like it, too.

The room was dim before Willow fluttered about lighting candles while humming, beginning to shed more light on her space. He could see a table covered in an emerald green cloth with four chairs surrounding it, and a crystal ball sat upon a perch in the middle of it with dozens of candles surrounding it.

“So… uh,” Dieter hesitates, hands scrubbing through his hair. The fuck is he doing here? He should leave. Willow continues to hum while she lights more candles by a thick open book sitting on a desk, flipping through the pages before she stops.

“Ah-ha!” She announces with a joyous clap, “Would ya look at that! Found it on the first try.”

She looks up to see Dieter still standing by the door with a nervous energy about him.

“Gah damn it, Dieter,” she grumbles, approaching him, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m here to help ya. Now go on, sit,” Ushering him to the table, lightly patting him on the shoulders, “Let me just get a few more things ready before I truly start this process, alright?”

“Help me?” He asks, watching Willow move in the space around them. She grabbed a bottle and began spritzing it around the chair he sat in.

“Duh, I told ya,” Willow said with a raised eyebrow smirking, “Oh wait, maybe I didn’t? Did I?”

Dieter looked at her in bewilderment, continuing to watch as she placed the spray bottle of liquid beside him and grabbed incense instead, placing them in their holders and lit them.

“T- tell me what?” He asked nervously, placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with his fingers.

“My apologies, sir.” Willow bows, “I am a witch! Well, kind of a-a witch. I’m a witch practicin’. My great great great great grandma was one and it kinda skipped a generation or two cause my folks decided we should follow Jesus instead. Ya in any sort of religion? I’ve been involved with… too many.”

Dieter shakes his head. Fuck, this is how it ends, he was right. She’s gonna sacrifice him.

“I’m spraying lavender right now to try and get your ass to calm down,” she states matter of factly picking the bottle up again, Dieter flinches when she sprays some directly onto his hair, “Your energy is thick with nerves. Now what was I sayin’?” She asked, stopping in place and staring at the table cloth.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I have a disorder where my memory ain’t the best. Think Dory from Findin’ Nemo,” Willow smiles brightly, “I’m a witch and this here crystal ball-” she taps a finger against the clear ball in the middle of the table, “-showed me to be expectin’ ya.”

“Sh-showed you?” Dieter asks, cocking his head to the side with wide eyes.

“Yeah!” Willow exclaims, “Showed me you comin’ here, us doing some magic and then you fuckin’ off to whatever it is you’re tryin’ to change!”

“Wait,” Dieter stops, eyes widening, “What am I changing?”

“Beats me,” Willow shrugs, fanning the incense around before plopping down in the chair across from him, “Alls I know is I’m supposed to help ya get there.”

Dieter looks at her and then the ball in between them. It starts sparkling inside as the clear crystal becomes dense with a weird purple fog, swirling around the inside of the crystal.

“Oh shit! It’s doin’ the thing again!” Willow shrieks in excitement, bouncing in her chair, “I told ya the thing showed me what I needed to do! Maybe it’s trying to show you what you need to do.”

Dieter stares at the ball before the swirling fog reveals you lying in your shared bed years ago. He remembers this morning clear as day, it’s the morning before he went to that stupid party and relapsed.

“It’s her,” he chokes back a sob, “What kind of sick fucking trick is this?!”

“It’s not a trick!” Willow protests, “I’m tellin’ the truth! Just watch the damn thing!”

Dieter continues watching the fog swirl within the ball, seeing himself join you in bed. Dieter perks up as he watches himself undress you and begin worshiping you like the goddess you are. Willow clears her throat turning her head.

“Ope,” she murmurs, cheeks becoming flaming red, peering at the ceiling out of privacy, “Don’t think I’m supposed to watch this bit.”

Dieter is entranced, watching the two of you, reliving that entire day. Except in this version he never leaves the house, he stays home with you instead. That’s what he should have done, stay home and hang out with you instead of go to that stupid fucking party.

The purple fog disappears and the crystal becomes clear again, leaving Dieter even more confused.

“Wait!” He shouts, gripping the ball with both hands, “Come back! Show me more!”

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Willow scolds, pushing his hands off the ball, “Don’t break my damn ball. It’s the only one I got.”

“But I want to see more,” Dieter lets out a pathetic whine, “How can I see more. Make it show me!” He demands.

“Not how it works, bub,” Willow huffs, “But, from the looks of it that’s where the ball wants me to send you.”

“S-s-send me?” Dieter stutters out with a scoff, “How are you gonna send me back to the happiest time of my life?”

“Time travel, duh,” Willow snorts, “The hell do you think you showed up here for?”

He looks at her with bewilderment. How the fuck is this girl supposed to help him go backwards in time?

“Now, now,” Willow says, clicking her tongue in annoyance, “I recognize that look. Ya don’t believe me,” she adds with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve got everything ready.”

She stands making her way to a small tea kettle, filling it with water from a jug before placing it on her desk beside the book. Willow moves through her office with a practiced ease, opening and closing cabinets, grabbing the things she’ll need for this ritual. Taking one last glance at the book on her desk before clearing her throat.

“Now, I’m gonna brew this tea for you to drink. It’s got some cloves, rosemary, garlic and cinnamon in it,” she explains, plunking and sprinkling the herbs in the kettle, “Oh shit!” She laughs, opening a desk drawer to pull out a small hot plate, “Ain’t gonna get very far without boilin’ it.”

Dieter watches as she softly hums, flitting about the room as the tea gets ready.

“Now, I got white sage and mullein burning already,” Willow explains pointing at each, “Helps with clarity.”

He nods, still confused and a little scared. He has no clue how this is supposed to actually work. Time travel isn’t real, this isn’t some movie like Back to the Future. Although, he thinks tilting his head, would be pretty cool to drive the DeLorean. His thoughts are interrupted by Willow chanting something over the tea right as the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Willow pours the tea into a little cup bringing it over to the table, placing it in front of Dieter.

“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Willow grimaces, “Probably gonna be nasty as fuck with the herbs I had to use but it’s what the book said to use.”

“Probably not the worst thing I’ve ever ingested,” Dieter shrugs, “So how’s this work? Do I just drink it?”

Willow nods, “I said the spell, I have the scents going, all you have to do is keep an open mind,” she continues with a smile.

Dieter nods, staring at the cup. What’s the worst that could happen? His life is already fucked. At least he can say he tried if it doesn’t work, grabbing the cup and downing the drink. Willow was right- it’s rancid, he begins to cough placing the cup back on the table.

“Now what?” Dieter asks with a grimace, glancing at Willow.

“Now,” a grin spreads across her face, “We wait.”

- - -

The sun’s rays shone through the curtains causing Dieter to wince as he woke the next morning. How was he supposed to know if the ritual worked? Willow said they just had to wait. Wait for what though? Hearing a soft groan next to him he peeked one eye open at the sound, looking around he noticed this wasn’t his room. Well, more so not his room anymore. The soft yellow walls and white curtains had all been replaced after you left with dark grays.

Glancing next to him, he felt like his heart stopped. There you were, snoring softly next to him. Maybe he was dreaming and his mind decided to torture him, it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened but then you reached for him. Your hand laying on his chest above his heart. Dieter didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy or all three at the same time. His palm reaches out, gently touching your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to your sleeping form as he rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb, “I was such a fucking idiot.”

You crinkle your nose and let out a huff as you sleep. A grin plastered across his face, he can’t believe it actually worked. If he ever sees Willow again he’s going to have to thank her. She may not know what for, with traveling back in time, but he’ll thank her anyway. 

“You’re staring,” you let out a sleepy grumble.

“Can’t help it,” Dieter whispers, grinning like an idiot. You open an eye to look at him, raising your brows.

“Why are we whispering?” You giggle, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat.

Dieter takes a deep breath into your hair, shrugging his shoulders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. Afraid if he loosens his grip you’ll be gone again. His hands begin to roam under your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the roundness of your belly. You’re still pregnant, grinning to himself as he sits up and moves you to lay on your back, rubbing his hands down to your hips. You’d always complained of them hurting with the added weight of Peanut, their little Lexi who would be coming into this world.

“Mmm,” you let out a soft moan, as his hands gingerly massage your hips, your fingers digging into his thigh, “Dieter.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, unable to believe this is actually happening again. Being with you, being back in your shared home, being here during the happiest time of his life. Dieter leans over your belly, pulling up your shirt to expose your bump, placing a soft kiss there.

“I love you,” he breathes out, his voice cracking before trying to get a grip on his emotions. 

“Babe?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you reach for him, “What’s wrong?”

“Missed you,” he says, kissing your bump again, “Both of you.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “All we did was go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just went to sleep,” he hums, lifting your shirt more to uncover your breasts, his lips placing a trail of open mouthed kisses until he meets one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a soft hiss as your fingers tangle in the soft waves of his hair. There’s one thing Dieter knows he can’t fuck up, sex. He’ll figure the rest out later.

You moan as he spends equal time on each of your breasts, sliding a hand down your front into your underwear. Dieter lets out a groan when he feels the wetness already collected there. He needs this, to you it was yesterday, to him it’s been six years since he’s felt you around his cock.

“I need you,” Dieter grunts, pushing you on your side, flopping down behind you and pushing his boxers down. His stiff member pushing into your ass.

“Jesus, Dee,” you giggle as he quickly pushes your underwear down enough to get to your core, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t,” he whispers into your neck, slipping his length between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Dieter grips his dick, slowly pushing into you, simultaneous moans spilling from both of you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So fucking big.”

Dieter pants, feeling your walls constrict around him, stopping himself when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He doesn’t want this to end before it’s even begun.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Missed this.”

“Dieter,” you pant, hips squirming against him, “I need you to move, baby.”

He nods against your head, slowly pulling out, his tongue laving against your pulse point as he sharply pushes back in.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gripping his hand tighter. He knows it’s your favorite so he keeps the same rhythm, pulling out slowly before plunging back in. He can’t stop the words flowing from his mouth as he thrusts into you. His pace grows quicker as he speaks.

“Please don’t leave me,”

“I need you,”

“I love you,”

“I won’t fuck up again,”

“I promise,”

“I love you.”

Every phrase punctuated with a sharp thrust into your wet heat, producing a moan from your lips.

“Dieter,” you moan, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna-“

Dieter can feel the fluttering of your walls, gripping you tighter he moves faster, unable to control himself any longer.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, “Look at me, baby.”

Your head lolling against his shoulder as his hips snap into you, he grips your face turning you to face him. Slotting his lips over yours, smothering your cries as your orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dieter grunts, grinding his hips into you as your walls constrict around him, warm ropes of his come painting your insides. He kisses you softly while both of you try to catch your breath.

“You okay?” You ask, eyes gazing up at him.

Dieter nods, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

“Bad dream,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I’m sorry babe,” you give him a sympathetic smile, giving him a quick kiss before moving off of him with a hiss, “Wanna go look at stuff for the nursery?”

“Hmm,” Dieter hums, wrapping his arms around you again before you can leave the bed, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”

“We just woke up,” you squeak out with a giggle, as he pulls you back against him, “Already need a nap?”

“After that workout?” He laughs, kissing your neck, “Uh… yeah!”

Dieter’s eyelids are heavy. He felt calm, more at peace than he has been for years, having you back in arms, the comforting weight of you next to him. The hint of your perfume surrounding him, causing him to quickly drift back to sleep.

- - -

“Dieter wake up!” Mark shouts, “Time to go.”

Dieter jumps, how long had he been asleep? The room is dark as Mark flings the gray curtains open allowing the sun to burst in.

“What the fuck?” Dieter groans, covering his face with the pillow next to him, blocking the sun from his eyes. His sleep-addled brain hasn’t registered what’s happened.

“Come on, man,” Mark says more sternly, grabbing the covers to pull off of Dieter, “Gotta get Peanut.”

“Peanut?” Dieter asks, flipping the pillow off his face, sitting up taking in his surroundings, “No, no, no. This isn’t right.”

He looks around at the gray bedding, the curtains, the walls. Where’s your house? He was just there, wasn’t he? Was it just a dream after all?

“Yes. Peanut,” Mark says, giving him a confused look, “Lexi, Your daughter.”

“I know who Peanut is, Mark.” Dieter snaps, “But she won’t let me see her.”

“Dieter,” Mark scolds, “Do not tell me you've been using again.”

“What? No!”

“You’ve had your daughter every other week for years now.” Mark explains, “Are you sure you're not using anything?”

“You mean, I have custody?” Dieter asks, beginning to choke up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

Whatever Willow did, it worked, well kind of. If Dieter had some sort of custody of Lexi that means he must have changed something going back in time.

“I gotta go see Willow.”

“Willow?” Mark asks, shaking his head, “Dieter, you don’t have time to go on some wild goose chase looking for whoever it is you’re talking about.”

Dieter rushes out of bed, grabbing random clothes he finds throughout his room to throw on, running down the stairs to find his crocs.

“Dieter!” Mark shouts after him.

“I gotta fix it, Mark,” Dieter yells back, finding his car keys, and opening the front door, “I gotta fix it!”

—

“Willow!” Dieter bellows, bursting into Vixen’s, “It worked! It kind of worked!”

He hears a crash a couple aisles over and a gah-damnit!, before Willow appears at the front of the shop.

“The hell you comin’ in here yellin’ about?” Willow asks, rubbing the top of her head, “You made me drop a jar of Dragon’s blood on my damn head. I do not need any more feminine power right now!”

“Sorry,” Dieter chuckles, “I think we need to do the ritual again. I have custody!” 

“Custody?” Willow asks, confused.

“Custody of my kid, Willow!” Dieter says, gripping her shoulders giving her a little shake, “All I did was fall asleep, had a crazy vivid sex dream about my girl and now I have custody! I’ve never even met my daughter!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Willow says, wiggling out of his grip, “Don’t touch me and I don’t wanna hear about your weird sex dreams but come on back.”

He follows her through the dark hall, to her office, the white sage and mullein is lit, the tea is brewed while Willow chants the magic words. He chugs it again. The warm liquid tingled in his throat as it went down.

“Not as bad the second time,” he sputters out through a cough, “Should you make extra so I can take it home?”

“Not how it works,” Willow chuckles, “Gonna have to come see me. Door will always be open.”

“I don’t understand how this is working at all,” Dieter admits, “All I did was go to sleep?”

“Maybe in your sleep is when you’re traveling,” Willow shrugs, “I won’t lie, I’m not sure how it works either. Remember, I’m new at this.”

—

Dieter leaves Vixen’s, feeling on top of the world as he makes his way to your house. He cannot believe he’s about to see his kid for the first time, well maybe not the first time but it is for this Dieter. He pulls up to the address he found saved into his phone under your name, taking a deep breath before getting out of his car.

He makes his way to the front door. It’s a different house than the last time he showed up, hoping you’d forgive him for running off and taking forever to get his shit together. Taking a deep breath he presses the doorbell, hearing the chime inside.

“Daddy!” He hears screeched from behind the door before it opens. A little girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes and soft curls.

“You came to get me!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand with both of her little ones and pulling him through the entrance.

“Y-yeah, I did,” Dieter murmurs, unable to stop staring at the back of her head. Her hair bounces with every step she takes as she continues babbling at him about something.

“Hey Dieter,” you smile at him from the couch with a book in your hand, “She’s been super excited for you to get her this week. Thank you again for keeping her an extra week.”

“Extra week?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot,” you groan, “Dee, you promised me you wouldn’t forget! This is super important! Joel’s taking me to meet his family.”

“Joel?” Dieter asks, clenching his jaw, fingers flexing of his free hand against his thigh. Of course, Joel is still present. 

You study his face, taking in the tension rolling off him in waves, putting your book down and getting off the couch.

“Peanut, baby,” you say in a sweet tone, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready so you can go have fun at Daddy’s?”

“Okay,” she chirps, climbing the steps to the second floor. Leaving the two of you alone.

“Dee?” You ask, approaching him, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dieter lies with a nod of his head, “Just forgot you have plans next week.”

“Look,” you start, gripping his hand, “I know this whole thing is weird for you but I know one day you’re going to find someone to love,” Dieter’s thumb begins to rub against your fingers softly, noting the absence of a ring on your hand.

“You don’t get it,” Dieter scoffs, shaking his head, “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

“We tried Dieter,” you say, giving him a sympathetic smile, “We just aren’t meant to be.”

- - -

When he wakes next, Dieter is blinded by the brightness of the room, closing his eyes again, not ready to get up.

“Daddy,” a little voice says, poking his cheek with tiny fingers.

He groans feeling a weight on top of his chest. He can hear you humming softly downstairs in the kitchen, little fingers continue poking at his face trying to wake him.

“Peanut,” he chuckles, “Why are you poking my face?”

“Time to wake up!” She announces, standing up on chunky legs before plopping her butt back down. Dieter lets out a grunt before opening his eyes, spotting the soft yellow walls of the room. He can’t stop the smile forming on his face. He’s back to where he wants to be, this timeline seeming to be much better than the present.

“Come here,” Dieter playfully growls, tickling Lexi’s sides. Her high pitched squeals echoing throughout the house.

“Breakfast is ready!”

“Hear that Peanut?!” Dieter asks enthusiastically, “Momma made breakfast!”

“Breakfast!” Lexi shouts, throwing her arms up in the air, “I hungry!”

Dieter scoops her up as he gets out of bed, carrying the toddler with him down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you hum, smiling at both of them, “The contractor was supposed to be here earlier but he overslept so said he’d be by soon.”

“Oh?” Dieter asks, setting Lexi down into her booster seat as if he’s done this every day, “Who’d we hire again?”

“Dieter, I swear,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’d be so lost without me.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he grabs the plates of food you had set out, giving one to Lexi and sitting down next to her to eat his own.

“It’s Miller Bros,” you huff, “And no, they’re not like the Mario Brothers from Nintendo,” you add after seeing Dieter’s head perk up. You always were good about knowing what was on his mind.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Dieter asks, stabbing his fork into the eggs, “Besides the contractor coming, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. The rest of the meal went on, the scraping of silverware against plates and random chatter from Lexi the only things to be heard. It was eerie how quiet you were, Dieter stared at you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. He can’t pinpoint what’s going on but he feels there is something different here. Lexi finishes her breakfast, scooting off her booster and running off to watch TV.

“Is everything okay?” Dieter asks, fidgeting with the fork in his hand, he can’t risk losing you but he needs to know the answer.

“No,” you admit quietly, “I just- I don’t know what to do anymore Dee.”

“What do you m-“ he tries, the doorbell chiming interrupting his sentence.

“That must be the contractor,” you sigh, “Wanna start the dishes while I get the door?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dieter nods, “Sure.”

He gathers the dishes, rinsing each item before putting them in the dishwasher, hearing you speak with the contractor.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” the contractor says with a gruffness in his voice, “Would’a been here earlier but my idiot brother wrote the time down wrong.”

“No worries,” you reply in a cheery tone, “You deserve the extra sleep, you work so hard.”

Dieter hears a deep chuckle from the man and a thank you, you’re too kind darlin’. It makes his stomach twist, he knows who this is. Joel fucking Miller. Can he not escape this guy?

Dieter slams the dishwasher closed, pacing throughout the kitchen. In his present time, the man is there. Now in his supposed past the man shows up too?! He wishes he could call Willow but a quick google search shows that Vixen’s doesn’t exist just yet, groaning as he tosses his phone onto the counter. What is he supposed to do?

He sees through the doorway how you look at Joel, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you seem almost bashful as Joel continues to talk about the most mundane things. Dieter can’t help the idea that’s popped into his head as he makes his way to the couch, sitting with your shared daughter as she watches cartoons.

It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he suggested, he’s Dieter Bravo. He’s definitely said worse things in interviews. He continues watching the two of you, the slight smirk on Joel’s face, the shy smile gracing your own.

Maybe if you fucked Joel you’d get it out of your system.

Dieter sees the attraction to Joel, of course he does. He’s rough, burly, and has that southern charm about him. The way his shirt hugs his biceps, his jeans clinging to his thighs. Joel clears his throat and Dieter snaps his head up, finding Joel staring directly at him, having been caught ogling he can feel his face turning a shade darker. You smile at Dieter, covering your mouth while a giggle escapes your lips.

“I’m gonna get started on the bathroom,” Joel says, eyeing Dieter on the couch, “Don’t let me interrupt your morning, Hollywood,” he adds with a wink.

You make your way to the couch, curling into Dieter’s side.

“So,” you giggle, with that sparkle still in your eyes, “Joel, huh?”

“Joel,” Dieter smirks, wrapping his arm around you, nodding his head. He brings you closer to his side, kissing your temple, before he scoops Lexi into his other side, keeping both his girls close to him.

- - -

“Dieter,” Mark says, giving Dieter’s shoulder a shove, “Need to wake up, you’re home.”

“Home?” Dieter grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, he feels metal on one of his fingers. Eyes popping open, he spots a band on his left hand. Married. He’s married?

“Yeah, home,” Mark chuckles, “And don’t worry. I took care of everything so the three of you could spend some time together for the next couple days.”

Dieter grins, saying your name out loud quizzically, he needs to make sure it worked this time. Mark nods, he gets to spend time with his girls. His girls. Dieter hops out of the car, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for the ride Mark,” he hollers as he makes his way to his front door, shaking with nerves as he stands there. Taking a deep breath he opens the door to find the house covered in darkness, flipping on the light he takes in the room before him. Toys, books, and small shoes scattered around. His smile grows wider as he hears a noise from upstairs.

You must be upstairs waiting for him. Dieter sets his duffle bag down next to the door before flinging his crocs off on his way up the stairs. The door of the master bedroom is opened by a jar and he can hear grunts coming from within.

Fuck, Dieter thinks, manly grunts can only mean one thing.

He tiptoes to the door opening it more, seeing you naked on your knees before Joel. His thick cock in your mouth as you bob your head faster along his length.

“S’it baby,” Joel groans, throwing his head back as you take more of him down your throat, “So fucking good at that.”

You’re moaning as he grips your head, holding you on his cock.

“Fuck,” Dieter whispers, feeling his dick twitch with interest, watching you gag on Joel’s length. Joel’s head snaps towards the doorway.

“Ya just gonna stand there Hollywood or ya gon’ join?” Joel smirks, eyeing Dieter up and down, “We’ve missed you.”

You moan, pulling off Joel's cock with a soft pop, twisting your body to see Dieter.

“Hi baby,” you purr at him, “Glad that you’re home.”

Dieter stands there frozen, watching you stroke Joel’s shaft with a sly grin.

This present time is nice, Dieter thinks with a smirk on his face, I can live with this.

[sigmasoyboy]

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]

Was suggested on instagram to write from Gage's POV and thinking about how I would ever write from someone who's been essentially dog lobotomized actually got me thinking so hard I started writing. The formatting of this one is a reading nightmare but the never ending run-on sentence tightly packed into one block of text feels the most appropriate to a dog's inner thoughts so… You have to suffer for the sake of art™️

cw: ableist and misogynistic language, PTSD, panic attack, murder, vomit, loss of humanity through being genetically spliced with a dog

Right now there is only [RUNNING] and [PANTING] and the wind whipping your face and twigs digging into your paw pads and snapping under your weight and the sweat tickling the inside of your thigh as it rolls down the expanse of your (ever) hairless leg. You almost want to throw your hands down into the decaying grass and leaves to propel your body further but (something) keeps you anchored to your bipedal ways, your body knows it was never made for sprinting on all four but your body was also bent once and could probably be bent further all the way to the other side transhumanised so far the evolutionary path to break all knowns nomenclature and classification and leap from (human) to [DOG] just as you do out of the shrubbery as soon as your hear [YOUR NAME], toes skidding into the overgrown lawn as you halt, tongue hanging out dumbly trying as you might to bring moisture back into your bone dry mouth. The useless instincts you (forcefully) have inherited work against you but thankfully [HE!!!] turns on the garden hose [HE!!] uses to bath you with and fresh water springs out, splattering everywhere against your open mouth. There used to be a better way to drink but you (forgot) how so you chew at the air trying to catch this pesky pesky water into your mouth while getting drenched, you were hot anyway, running so so hot from all the excess dopamine secreted by your happy happy dumb brain, so easily pleased.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]; it’s the 100th time you thought this exact thing today not with words or inner monologue only pure unadulterated stabs at your mesocorticolimbic circuit, things are only [GOOD] or [BAD] not in terms of the morals (you lacked) but in terms of [PLEASURE] and [PAIN], so simple and so good like quenching your thirst and moving your limbs and eating and shitting and nerve endings being stimulated by a [GOOD SCRATCH] just like [HE] is doing right now immediately replacing the serotonin from the water [HE] just shut off, not having a care in the world for how greasy your (hair) feels or the way you wildly shake off to dry yourself or the fact that you are (not) a dog at all. You wouldn’t get any of it anyway because all you understand now is [ANGRY] and [SOFT] tone so as long as [HE] coos at (you) softly [HE] can say anything and (you) would happily (giggle) and [RUB YOUR HEAD] against his big calloused hands even if he was (talking shit). You were liberated against your (will) and you are too dumb to realize it, of course you are why would you ever stop and try to think when you can just march alongside [HIM] like [HE TAUGHT] [YOU]] like a good stupid fuckass (dog) getting all [EXCITED] because you realize [HE] is walking towards the [KITCHEN] which can only mean any and all (doubt) or [FEAR] that’s desperately trying to join each others can be [SILENCED] by a motherfucking spoonfull of [PEANUT BUTTER HOLY SHIT] sticky and salty and obstructing your airway momentarily but thank goodness you still know how to breath through your (nose) while you smack your (lips) desperately trying to (get away from the [DELICIOUS TREAT] clawing at the leathery cushion with your splitting nails nerve endings stimulated by [HURT HURT HURT FUCK what did you do why were you bad why is this happening to you this wasn’t supposed to happen you weren’t supposed to get caught in the first place but the [BITC H] squealed and slipped through your fingers and now you’re the one being [GUD LA DET SLUTTE VÆR SÅ SNILL] you should’ve made a bigger hole and (fucked it) so [BAD] no one will ever be able to identify your whore bitch corpse you r eally fucked up this time you can barely breathe through any hole now in out in out in out head heavy with the weight of ([HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS]) getting really really light so much so you don’t feel your (claws) slicing until the victim became unrecognizable aggravated [MASSACRE] of your (ultimate reality) now there’s only [DROOL] and a little bit of [VOMIT] and your clammy skin against the (cold old tiles) of the kitchen floor and [HIS] form above you [WARM] palm encircling almost your entire still trembling arm and (garbled speech) you can never [UNDERSTAND] again, it’s so [WARM] and (nice) your [TAIL] slaps the kitchen floor, beginning to unknot [HIS] brow as you can feel yourself (smiling) dumbly at [HIM]. And now there is only [PETTING] and [ROLLING ON THE FLOOR] with the sweet-acrid aroma of [PEANUT BUTTER] and [VOMIT] [HE] stops you from [LAPPING] just before your tongue touches it.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS].

[jarofstyles]

Illicit 10

Here we are, babes. The last official part of the main Illicit story. It’s bittersweet because I finally completed something lmao but also, I really love them and their story.

Safe to say this isn’t the last you’ll see of them. I’m fully planning on doing little flashbacks and check ins with them, feel free to let me know what you would like to see/if you have any unanswered questions. Thank you for reading!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings

Illicit masterlist

WC- 3.3k

Warnings- mention of wounds, stitching, having children, marriage talk, nightmares, etc

——-

“Harry, for the love of god, please be careful of your arm.” Y/N winced in worry as the man carried firewood over to their fire pit. He had not been taking his injury half as seriously as he had been taking Y/N’s concussion, treating her like the ‘delicate little bird she was.’ He’d gotten an eye roll for that. Of course he wasn’t letting her help lug the wood for their night in front of the fire. She’d requested with sleepy eyes earlier in the morning to make smores because they’d been in her dream and Harry was giving her basically anything she wanted. 

“M’fine, baby.” He laughed, appreciating her concern but knowing the injury barely stung anymore. “The stitches are coming out tomorrow, and we pushed it, keeping them until then. Only kept them because you wanted me to.” 

It had been about 2 weeks since the attack and they’d left for the lake house. As much as he knew it was terrifying for the both of them, he was utterly relieved to have Katherine behind bars. He’d made sure to keep updated by his contact in the force to know what was happening with her case. Apparently she had really lost it, but Harry didn’t give a fuck. He wanted her to rot behind bars, to live miserably and have Y/N be safe without the threat of some crazy ex-who-isn’t-an-ex looming in the background. 

Harry had kept work to a minimum, only logging in to oversee the decisions he had to make. There had been no calls besides the nightly one with his COO to ensure things were running smoothly. Other than that, his entire attention had been on Y/N. They’d barely left the house considering at first Y/N had been a bit embarrassed of her injuries. Another reason he’d hate Katherine until the day he died. Harry always was one to hold grudges, he was infamous for it. She’d never know peace if the man had anything to do with it. 

They were healing incredibly well, Harry taking the time at night to set her on the bathroom counter and wipe them clean and apply the healing ointment to them. The only one that was more than a fading scab was the one on her head along with the slight discoloration the black eye had caused. Other than that, he was more than relieved to see her bouncing back. The only thing that plagued him still was the nightmare. 

His nightmares. 

They’d always start the same, almost a play by play of what had happened to him walking into the home and up the stairs- only when he got there it had been too late. In his nightmare, the knife had already taken Y/N’s life and he couldn’t do anything to save her. He always woke up before the knife struck him, but it actually hurt him. It was a little difficult for him to admit to her, always wanting to be the strong one when it came to their pairing- someone for her to lean on fully- but she had cried once he told her and insisted that she wanted to be there for him. That a partnership was made out of balance and while she could offer him some of the same things he did for her, she was more than capable to be his emotional shoulder to cry on. It had been a tough thing to come to terms with but this week seemed to be healing. Not just physically, either. 

“Ms. Greta, please tell him to take it easy.” Y/N pouted at the older woman who brought out the tray of s’more making supplies. She’d made sure to add the peanut butter cups as requested. 

“I’m afraid if he won’t listen to you, he won’t listen to anyone.” She chuckled. “Men will be men, and that includes straining their physical health for the macho man act. One day they learn we do know what we are talking about.” A little wink was sent her way as Harry huffed, arranging the wood in the fire pit with a grumble. 

“Because I’m fine.” He stressed, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “It’s healed up nicely. I’m more than capable of setting up a little fire.” Crossing over to Y/N, he stole a kiss before grabbing the lighter and a few other things. “Just sit pretty and let your man do the work, baby. I’ve got it.” 

There was a snort heard from both women but Ms. Greta was now off the clock, wishing them a good night before retreating into the house. As much as he loved having the woman around, he really was obsessed with this alone time with Y/N. There was the residual guilt he had over her being treated less than ideally because he was juggling the faux relationship and the contract, but he knew now that he was going to have to take a bit of a step back from work in order to do that. He’d delegate as he was supposed to be doing to begin with, assign more to his assistant, take Y/N more places and on more dates out in public. He couldn’t fucking wait to attent events with her and show her off. 

He’d been waiting months to let people know who his heart belonged to, and he was finally getting the chance to do so. It was obvious now since the articles had been a media frenzy over the attack, things leaked he couldn’t pinpoint. The only thing he had been commenting on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t a mistress, Katherine wasn’t his lover that was scorned, and there was no true excuse for the actions. It was a good thing in hindsight that they were there, alone. No one had a true clue about the location and he didn’t feel like being hounded by paparazzi- though hopefully they knew better now than to test him and his hatred for the cameras.

One thing that had been burning into him, though, was a question he’d been wanting to ask her. One he knew that was a bit unorthodox but a necessary one nonetheless. 

She sat across his lap, his hoodie covering her tank top and denim shorts as her legs swung slightly while they waited for the fire to burn a bit hotter so they could roast their marshmallows.

“When would you like to get married?” He asked. “And how many kids are we thinking about?” 

The girl nearly snapped her neck as she looked at him with wide eyes, the not so casual question leaving his mouth as if it was him asking what she wanted for dinner. Harry always did find a way to shock the hell out of her but this was definitely one of the top questions that had caught her off guard.  Secretly, she’d assumed Harry had that all figured out. He always made sure to let her know how much he appreciated her opinions and her thoughts, that they were important to him- but he was a planner. Harry was the man in charge and she was happy to let him be. It took a lot of weight off of her shoulders that she wouldn’t admit to anyone else actually weighed on her. 

“Uh…” She blinked at him a few times. “I’m not sure. Kinda figured you’d be the one to pop the question. But honestly… Maybe a year? A few months? I dunno.” There was a slight lump in her throat. “I’ve no doubt I want to be with you the rest of my life so part of me feels like I’d probably be fine eloping right now if that was something you wanted but… We haven't really had the chance to be a couple out in the open. While I doubt that’s going to change much considering we feel so strongly, I think it would be kind to ourselves to let us iron out some of the details first before we fully tie the knot.” There wasn’t a right or wrong answer but it still made her a little nervous to answer. “As for kids? I’m not sure. 2? 3? I’d probably say we have one first and figure it out from there.” It wasn’t like they’d have to worry about resources externally but she knew Harry valued family more than anything and he’d want to be an active father. He’d already indulged that detail to her one night when they were particularly loved up. However, neither of them had any children so they didn’t know the workload it would entail, nor did they know how they’d work as parents. Of course they’d figure it out but it would make it a bit more clear on how many they could handle.

“First of all, as much as I’d love to call you my wife right this second… I could never deprive you of the wedding you deserve.” Y/N had told him about the fact that she had always dreamt about her wedding as a little girl. She had pinterest boards full of themes and wedding dresses she’d want to try and cake designs. He wasn’t about to deprive her of those things for his selfish needs.. Harry knew he was indeed a selfish bastard in every other facet of his life, but when it came to Y/N and his soon to be family? That was his only exception. “My mum would probably keel over dead if I did that too. Trust me, you’re going to get your princess wedding.” There was no debating that. “And for kids… I’d love to give you many, many babies.” His tone turned smooth, a little smirk lighting up his face and the twinkle of his eye. “But I think I agree. My idea had been 2-4, but I’ll take as many as you’ll give me. Always.” His hand pulled her in so he could press a kiss to her cheek, muttering a soft declaration of love. 

“Love you more.” She sighed, leaning further into his chest. “I’m so happy that we can live our lives when we get back. I know it’ll probably be a little crazy but there's no more hiding. We can go out and hold hands and kiss, people are going to know we belong to each other.” The giddiness on her face was bittersweet. “I’m so excited to be with you properly.”

The tinge of guilt hit him full on in the stomach, making him frown as he looked into the fire. He knew he had fucked up several times on this journey and Y/N just had a lot of patient and given him a lot of grace when he knew for a fact most other people wouldn’t- but that made it feel a little worse. He’d been wrong in not ditching the contract immediately. “Baby?” He said, voice quieter as he met her eyes. “I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry that I’m a stubborn son of a bitch and I didn’t just dissolve the contract and take on a lawsuit. I should have done it the day I met you because I knew you were going to mean a lot to me even there. I… I know I’ve told you a lot how you were the first and only person to ever make me feel the way you do, but it’s more than that. And my hard headed shit got us into something awful. I know I fucked up and you are more generous than I deserve but…” His fingers tenderly moved the hair from her face, stroking her cool cheek. “I’m going to work every single day for the rest of my life to make it up to you. I’m going to make you the most spoiled, well traveled, happiest woman I possibly can.” His voice stayed quiet as he searched her eyes for any hint of resentment but somehow there wasn’t any there. 

“H.. I knew what I signed up for. You’d been nothing but honest with me the night I ignored you. You laid it all out for me. I knew that you were taken in name only and I liked you so much that I agreed. I never felt like I played second to her. You can say a lot of things about you, lovely, but subtle isn’t one of those things. You never made me feel like she was important. I understood how important your business was to you- it’s the most important thing to you. Did I like seeing you with her? No. But you made it so clear to me that I was yours and you were mine, I never felt like… I never had any competition.” Y/N tried to soothe the ache she knew he felt. Of course she hadn’t liked people thinking he belonged to someone else but she knew he loved her. The most she had ever been loved, the most unashamed. 

“First, I have a correction- You are the most important thing to me. I’d give it all up for you.” That wasn’t a sentence anyone could take lightly, nor one he would ever thought he would say. It used to be the truth, but now it was far from it. “You are my life.” His gaze bore into her own as he cupped her cheek.  “There was never any competition. If we want the honest truth, I thought I’d marry as a business decision. I thought I’d probably not have any kids considering I only ever wanted children out of love. I was happy working until I was gray and about to keel over. Business was my only reason for being, and it wasn’t something I minded- but you gave my life so much more, so much color, my angel.” He’d never sounded more fond in his life, looking at his heaven sent gift perched in his lap. “I didn’t realize there was more to life until I met you. You opened my eyes and made my heart soften. I give a shit about a lot more than numbers now and it’s because of you.” 

People could say he did it himself but he knew the truth. Without meeting Y/N his life would have been the same robotic function it had been since he got out of uni, and he wouldn’t have complained. He’d never know how much he would miss out on. “I thank whoever in the world sent you to me every damn day and you know m’not religious. You are my miracle. It made me feel so fucking sick walking in that house and thinking you were hurt, I have never in my life felt that sort of terror. But I’d do it all again in order to keep you.” The scar on his arm was a reminder of that. 

“I love you, H. The most in the world.” Her eyes watered a little as she smiled at him. “I’m sorry you got scared. I was scared too, scared she would do worse with that knife though I’m still upset you got hurt at all. But I’d go through every bit of it again too.” She sniffled, feeling his thumb brush under her eye as a tear fell. “I know I want everything with you. The marriage and babies and our own house with a pool, if that’s something you want too. You’re the love of my life.” 

“And you’re mine.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to hers. “M’gonna spend every day proving that to you. Just wait and see, my angel. My heart is yours.”  

—-------

Nails dug into Harry’s back as he rocked slowly into his girl in their brand new home. One he’d bought her as a surprise when they arrived back into the city, leaving their old memories behind in the other penthouse and moving on to the next chapter in the rest of their lives. 

“H-Harry…” She bleated, holding on to him while the other hand grabbed his face and pulled his face down so he could be kissed. “Thank you. You always take c-care of me.”

His pace as slow and deep, pressing in as far as he could go on the brand new sheets they’d picked out together. The sunset bled into their room as they breathed each other in, wrapped up in their covers on their first night sleeping there. He’d spared no expense making sure he got the best of the best for her. He was dedicated to the cause, dedicated to proving to her that she was the most precious thing to him in the world. 

“M’always going to take care of you, my love.” He nudged his nose against hers as he dipped his hips to get deeper inside of her. It was like they couldn’t get close enough to one another, her legs wrapped snug around his hips while he kept himself up with one hand, the other under her neck. The term making love was fully about this. It was unmistakable. “You were made for me.” 

He couldn’t wait to spend every morning like this for the rest of his life. The man who used to cringe at the idea of fucking anyone face first now had it as his preferred position, wanting to make sure he could see every second of her reactions to him. She was snug around his cock, taking him like it was her only job in the world. He’d had no problem doing only this for the rest of his life. 

“And you were… you were made for me. We’re made for each other.” Y/N nodded, pressing another open mouthed kiss to his lips as he kept the steady pace, hitting the delicious spot he always knew how to find. “You know my body perfectly. It’s yours forever.” It was both the truth and a bit of a taunt, knowing how much he loved when she spoke like that. 

“You are. You’re mine and m’all yours, never have to share me. I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” He whimpered as her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as she was filled over and over again. He hit the perfect spot and was trying to get her to cum, trying to have her finish all over him so he could do the same and stay deep inside for a while. Craving this sort of closeness was an addiction, one he didn’t plan on cutting. The obsession with Y/N grew each and every day. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

The woman whined out his name at the last sentence, tugging him closer with her legs as she soaked up every bit of heat from him. It didn’t matter what happened, who tried to get in their way- they would always belong to one another. There was an understanding between both of them knowing this love was bone deep, soul deep, it only deepened by the day. When it felt like they couldn’t love each other more it just kept growing, no matter how full they felt. It was everything. 

A love like this was something people revered as pure, perfect, something that everyone craved and yearned for. Something out of a book or a movie, the sort of feeling that trumps all other people and situations. Their passion and yearning for one another had been cultivated in anything but pureness, it was made in the dark. It always made him laugh a little to know that such a concept had blossomed into a real, tangible thing that he could feel between their bodies, something he could see when he looked at her, something he could taste when he kissed her. 

A love that stayed between the lines wasn’t the type that grew stronger- that’s why he smiled when they called it illicit.

[catghoul31]

I Just Wanted To Feed Some Ducks, For Christ's Sake

Wade was just having a @poolverine-week Day 4: First Date with Logan, when out of nowhere, a close-minded jerkwad of a dad decides to harass them! He deals with it in typical Deadpool fashion, but accidentally reveals something about himself along the way. Will Logan still love him? Or will he hate him forever and ever and never, ever talk to him again??

(...Spoiler alert: everything was fine. Psh, I wasn't even worried!! Why'd you think I'd ever be worried...?)

Content Warnings: Homophobia and Transphobia (directed at logan and wade)

Read it under the cut, or on ao3!

This was probably the happiest Deadpool had been in about a decade… and all he was doing was throwing corn and peas at ducks at the park!! Oh, but his Logan was there, and today, that made all the difference. 

A couple days ago, they’d exchanged their first “I love you”s, kissed each other until their lips got sore, and signed marriage documents. That third one would’ve only been true if he’d taken Vanessa’s advice at face value, sure- but it was official now!! Deadpool and Wolverine were an item. No queerbaiting, no sending one partner to superhell, and not an ounce of homophobia to be found! This story would be really short, because it was honestly just an excuse for Wade to tell all you guys that he was feeding ducks with Wolvie right now. Wasn’t that an adorable thought in these trying times? He sure was glad no one was gonna ruin it, and he could just lean against him and kiss him on the cheek all cutely-

“Hey, what the hell-? You can’t be doing that around my kids!!”

FUCK.

Okay, Wade, calm down. Maybe there’s some other weirdo who decided to waltz over here naked or something, and that’s who he’s talking to? 

No- no, this guy was walking over to them- and there goes that cute little smile on Logan’s face. Why does this author keep making us deal with shit like this…? I just wanted to feed some ducks, for Christ’s sake!

“I don’t remember asking you, dickhead,” Logan grumbled lowly, and Wade would recognize that tone anywhere… That was only ever how he spoke if he was seconds away from introducing the claws to someone’s face!! He needed to humble this Karen-in-training now, before his peanut gave that guy a real reason to get them kicked out!!

The rando who thought he was the king of this public park scoffed at the show of aggression, crossing his arms. “No, listen to me!! I don’t care if you two want to be freaks in private, but I won’t have my children seeing this nonsense-“

“Nonsense?? We’re just feeding some ducks, lady!!” Wade interjected, stepping in between both the fuming, borderline rabid monster man and Logan. “I know that sounds concerning, but that bucket’s full of mixed vegetables! No white bread here, we know that’s bad for them, so I promise your kids won’t pick up any bad habits-“

“God, shut up!! You know exactly what I’m talking about- this gay shit… ” he hissed, as if ‘gay’ was a four-letter word or something, while gesturing at them as though they were some spectacle. He really could’ve picked… any of their other adventures, if spectacle was what he wanted. He was clearly new here, since Deadpool knew he’d gotten a lot fruitier than this!! But whatever- so much for no homophobia, right?

“Oh, come on!! ” Wade said, in the middle of a few barks of laughter. “ That’s the problem you have with us?? In the year of our lord 2024… I mean, I’m a fucking merc, and you’ll probably find out what’s going on with my super-friend here if you keep bugging us,” he quipped, smirking at how fucking pissed Logan looked. He’d have no problem calming him down later, if you know what I mean… ;) But he was honestly curious- what lore was behind the stick up this man’s ass?

“Please, though, tell me how me giving this little guy a little kissy-kissy affects your children, who are currently throwing handfuls of dirt at each other 200 feet away from us where they can’t possibly see us,” Wade snarked, scratching Logan’s head as said little guy continued growling threateningly at the man. “Easy now, tiger…” he soothed, to absolutely no avail.

The loving, accepting individual in front of them cringed at the exchange before them, nearly looking ready to spit on Wade. Hey, he’d gladly open his mouth for him!! “You don’t see a single problem with this?? Ignoring how fucked up whatever that guy’s doing to me is-“

“I’ll show you fucked up, you sad, bigoted waste of-“

“Hey, hey!! We’re having a civil conversation here, Logan- I am so sorry. He’s not used to new faces, but I’ve been working on socializing him-“ Wade joked again, shutting up as soon as he felt the pricks of his claws brush his hand. They had to keep it cool, blood-free and stuff, because they had to think of the kids, right??

“-I don’t want my, or any other kid, going around thinking it’s okay for two men to be treating each other like women! God, you two are sick…”

Immediately, a lightbulb went off in Wade’s head. Without thinking, he said exactly what was on his mind, because oh my god it sounded so fucking funny to him- 

“Well… how do you know I’m not a woman?”

Dead silence followed his statement. Logan wasn’t even snarling at the dude anymore, and the dude himself was looking at him like Tails did in that one MS Paint comic panel that made him crack up every time he saw it. Fucking brilliant.

“…Because you have a penis?? What kind of question is that, you freak?!” he yelled, and Wade felt Logan tense up in defense once again.

“Woah, woah- and how do you know that?? Get your mind out of my pants- and maybe yourself away from this lake, if you want to keep your… everything intact,” he said, tightening the arm he had around his honey badger as he glared daggers into this dickwad. Truthfully, he was this close to just letting him go- it’d be so funny!! Except his kids were supposedly here, so…

“Ohh my fucking-“ The male Karen- Kyle?- whoever he was- his brain was officially broken. Wade loved to see it!! “Just- get out!! Degenerates like you shouldn’t be allowed anywh- HOLY SHIT!!”

Snikt!! Oh, that was one of Wade’s Top 3 Favorite Sounds Of All Time for sure… and the full flash of claws from Logan finally had this dude running away with his nonexistent tail between his legs. “Awh, good boy!!” Wade praised, patting his back affectionately. “You showed him, didn’t you-?”

“Just… just shut up,” Logan said, though there wasn’t any anger in his voice anymore. Just exhaustion- and confusion? Oh… oh no… “Let’s just go home, okay, bub?”

Wade furrowed his brows- if they left now, it meant that guy won, didn’t it? But then he realized, once again- that “joke” about him possibly being a woman? Not nearly as much of a joke, as it turned out!! Did… Did Logan even know about stuff like this? Shit, he might’ve said too much in the heat of the moment… This could be bad.

“Yeah… yeah, peanut. Let’s go…”

—

An awkward silence settled over them both as they walked home. Quite unusual, since usually Wade was yapping about anything and everything whenever they’d go anywhere, even before this little date of theirs!! But he wasn’t in the mood for that- he didn’t even reach for his hand, when he’d been holding it the entire time while they were walking here. He was too anxious over what Logan must think of him now… or maybe he was worried over nothing, and Logan did really just take it as a joke? Wade really hoped that was the case…

Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks, right before they got to their apartment complex, and turned to face Wade. “Wanna tell me what that was about, bub?” he rasped, his tone just accusatory enough to have his blood pressure spiking.

“That Karen??” Wade said, hoping beyond hope that that’s what he meant. “Oh, just a dipshit in public, and you didn’t actually hurt him, so we’re probably fine-“

“No, Wade. What you said. About…” Logan shook his head, tilting his head at Wade with his brow furrowed in confusion… and concern? “…I’m sorry, I just gotta know if you… meant that. If you’d rather I call you… are- are you trans or something??”

…Okay, that was close , and technically correct- but no, Wade wasn’t a woman. Not entirely, anyways... Logan didn’t seem disgusted by the idea, so that part of Wade’s worries was able to shut up!! But… god, this was gonna get even more confusing. “I… well…” Wade paused for a second, trying to figure out how to put this.

“Not judging you here, bub. Just… trying to make sure, so I didn’t accidentally-“

“No- no!! I’m not- well… okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me here, peanut. Alright?” Wade asked, his gaze flitting away from Logan and suddenly finding the cracks in the sidewalk very, very interesting. The gruff man slowly nodded, looking at him patiently.

“I’m not… not a man. But I’m also… not not a woman, either? I might also be some secret third thing, don’t worry about it- just, I don’t really even care that much!! Trust me!! It’s just…” Wade nervously chuckled- it seemed so simple in his mind, but Logan had to be so confused right now, right? “…You don’t gotta change anything with my name or nothing, it’s just- a long while back, I kinda figured out that… my gender, it’s… more complex than just a man?? If that makes any sense…?”

Logan was looking at Wade, trying to decipher his words. As soon as Wade saw that face, his heart dropped- he knew that would all be too much too soon… Maybe he should just pretend he was joking after all? It’d be much easier that way-

“…Okay? I can’t say I’ve heard of that before, but… Wade. You know I don’t give a fuck, right?” For a moment, Wade glanced up at Logan, really hoping he wasn’t calling him ridiculous or anything. It was always hard to explain this to people, which is why he usually just… didn’t! But Logan wouldn’t have let him lie about it… he never let him lie about anything anymore!! Something about being able to “smell when he’s lying” or some shit?

“That- no, that sounded bad, what I’m trying to say is…” Logan reached forward to grab his hand again, and Wade felt his heart calm down and fill itself with butterflies at the same damn time. “If… if that’s what you are, I don’t mind. Whatever it is- you know what, just throw the Wikipedia page at me if it has a name, okay?”

Genderfluid. Wade had figured that out with Vanessa long ago, and learning what that meant, why he felt like he fit in with both men and women- but also neither category truly felt like… him? Her? Them, even-? was a massive breath of fresh air at the time. And… Logan was willing to learn. All for him…? Oh, he knew he’d picked right!! Thank God he hadn’t picked the vaguely problematic Logan from the early comic days on accident or something…

“You… you mean it, Logan? I didn’t just blow your mind in a bad way…?” Wade huffed uncomfortably, still not quite believing what he’d just said.

“Ah,” Logan waved off his concerns, stepping closer to give him a hug. Oh, he could cry- Logan hugs were the best… “You’re still Wade, aren’t ya? We’re mutants- people like him hate us for a lot of reasons. Just because I don’t understand something… doesn’t mean it’s any of my business. And- bub…” He stepped back a bit, giving Wade that soft, caring look that always melted his heart. “I’ll try my best to understand. For your sake, alright? I love you…”

Wade genuinely smiled, for the first time since that shitbag ruined their nice day out. “I love you too, peanut. Thanks… really. This means a lot…” he muttered, squeezing him tight before he pulled away.

In return, Logan gave Wade’s hand a tight squeeze. God- always had to try and break his fingers, huh? “No problem, bub…” He muttered something under his breath, making Wade’s heart skip a beat since it sounded suspiciously like, “You mean a lot, so…”

With that heartwarming coming-out story out of the way, they walked back to their apartment as though nothing had happened… and in a way, it really hadn’t!

Because they had each other, didn’t they? And no one's stupid opinion of them would get in the way of their love, no matter how loud and annoying they were about it…

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Jealousy, Angst, Possessiveness, (let me know if there’s more that needs to be added!)

Word Count: 1.02k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @m-the-little-witch

A/N: Ah, I hope y’all feel lucky. Two chapters in one day! I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope I captured Randy, Billy, and Stu’s personality correctly. Thank you so much for reading! I’m hoping I’d get an update out tomorrow, but if not, it should be up later on this week at some point so keep an eye open. I also wrote this on my iPad, so I apologize if there’s any grammatical errors. I’ll proofread again tomorrow and put out an updated version. Oh, again, if you wanna be added to the tag list, just comment down below. Thank you :)

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Remember, your principal loves you, and I want you to be safe. All students are encouraged to return to their homes promptly from school grounds. Avoid strangers and walk in groups of two or three.” The principal spoke over the PA system.

Visibly stressed from the incessant questioning, you pinched the bridge of your nose. The source of your intense upset remained elusive. Although you were not the perpetrator, a peculiar sense of guilt persisted. Perhaps concealing your mistress past would have been prudent, as it could have prevented the revelation.

“I’m a slut,” you mumbled, dragging your fingers down your face and causing your eyes to droop. “Now, my friends are definitely going to find out. How am I supposed to confront them about that?” You asked no one in particular.

You fixed your gaze upon the azure expanse of the sky, momentarily squinting as the sun’s rays momentarily dazzled your eyes. “Have mercy on me, please?” you implored the man upstairs, anticipating no response in return.

“Sid, what kind of questions did they ask you?” You heard Tatum’s voice in the distance.

You composed yourself, made a raspberry sound, and approached your friend group at the fountain.

“They asked if I knew Casey…” Sidney’s voice soon followed.

“Hey everyone!” you chirped, sitting in front of Stu, Billy, Tatum, and Sidney. You unintentionally stopped their conversation.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks!” Stu blurted, his eyes glazing over and a small smirk planted on his lips. “What took you so long?” He groaned, “It’s always so boring when you aren’t here!” He frowned, tossing his head back.

“Gee, thanks, Stu,” Tatum snapped, causing you to giggle.

You glanced over at Billy, noticing Sidney leaning against his legs. Your face contorted in disgust as jealousy crept up on you. You mentally chastised yourself and looked away, back at Stu.

“Uh, they had me stay longer for questioning…” You admitted, leaning back against your bag and stretching out your legs.

“Huh? Why?” Billy asked, curiously.

“Yeah, why’s that?” Sidney mumbled.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“Just reasons, I guess.”

“Speaking of questioning, did they ask if you like to hunt?” Stu glanced at Billy and Randy, who had suddenly appeared.

“Yeah, they did. Did they ask you?” Billy asked, probing further. Randy nodded in agreement.

“Hunt? Why would they ask you if you liked to hunt?” Tatum voiced.

“Because their bodies were gutted.” Randy spoke up, shoving a peanut in his mouth.

“They didn’t ask me if I liked to hunt…” both Sidney and Tatum declared.

Stu glanced around, but his eyes kept landing on you, making you blush and chew on your fingernail.

“‘Cause there’s no way a girl could’ve killed ‘em..” Stu laughed.

“That’s bullshit. The killer could easily be female, basic instinct.”

“That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing…” Randy butted in.

“Yeah, Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. And the fact is, it takes a man to do something like that.” Stu grinned, still staring at you without realizing it.

You leaned in, placing your chin on the palm of your hand. “Really now? If that’s so, then why did they ask me if I liked to hunt, Stu?” You smirked, catching them all off guard. “Like Tatum said, the killer could easily be a girl. But with how they were killed, it was clearly a man. They’re all messy, like they like to play with their prey. A woman, on the other hand, knows how to get things done swiftly and cleanly. Why do you think they don’t get caught as easily?” You finished your statement, drumming your fingers across your lap in triumph.

“That was—I wasn’t expecting that,” Stu laughed loudly, bewilderment lingering around him like an aroma. Billy was just as shocked, but more amused.

However, Sidney wasn’t having it. “How… How do you gut someone?” She asked.

“You take a knife—“ Stu started and Billy looked up from his lunch. “And you slit ‘em from the groin to the sternum..”

“Hey.” Billy cut Stu off, glaring at him. “It’s called tact, you fuckrag.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Hey, (Y/n)..” Sidney asked, ignoring Billy and Stu’s former conversation.

Your ears perked and you looked at her confused.

“Didn’t you used to date Steve Orth?”

‘How could she have possibly known that?’ you thought, your ears turning red from anger and your fist clenched.

“Yeah, for like a couple of months..”

“Hold up, did I miss a chapter or something? When the hell did you date him?” Billy asked, looking somewhat pissed.

“Uh, yeah, I have to agree with Billy here.. when the hell did that happen?” Tatum’s eyes widened, she felt betrayed.

“Jesus, guys! It was only a couple of months. I don’t even know how Sidney found out,” you shot Sidney a glare.

“Can we change the subject, please?”

“Did you sleep with him?” Stu mumbled, starting to get irritated as well.

“All of you, please just shut up. It is not a big deal.” You demanded.

“Are the police aware that you dated the victim?” Randy asked, ignoring your pleas.

“Hey, what are you saying? That I killed both Casey and Steve?” Your mouth gaped at the accusation.

“It just makes sense,” Randy shouted, earning a few stares from passersby. “An ex-girlfriend who isn’t over the relationship and gets jealous seeing her lover with someone else… You know, the scorned ex who kills for revenge! It’s classic!”

“Hey, (Y/n) was with me last night.” Billy winked at you from behind Sidney.

“Indeed, I was…” You remarked, noticing Sidney’s gaze shift to you.

“Was that before or after you sliced them up?”

“Hold on, you went to (Y/n)’s after you came by my place? You said you were going to Stu’s!” Sidney flared her nostrils, anger bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, brother…” You whispered, visibly distressed. As Sidney hurriedly packed her belongings, she did not allow you or Billy an opportunity to provide an explanation.

<- Previous Next ->

[fleckcmscott]

The Morning After

Summary: Yesterday was a bombshell. Arthur reflects on what's changed and how much has stayed the same.

Words: 2,322

Warnings: Adult situation

A/N: After the serious themes of my last piece (and with the world on fire 🚬), I wanted to write something fluffy and fun, a slice of sweet escape. I hope you all enjoy! My pen is slower at the moment but still going. Thank you for reading and your continued support! 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Morning's soft pastels brightened the room, tempting Arthur towards a wakefulness he wasn't quite ready for. He winced against it. Curled his knuckles under his pillow. Burrowed deeper into the bedspread, a final bid to return to dreamland.

But a sharp snort sounded from behind him, and his whole body grinned.

He turned towards Y/N and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Half past seven proved she'd neglected to set the alarm; she was due in the office by nine. He really should rouse her. Put on coffee and pack her lunch, a salad and peanut butter and jelly.

Yet, he found he couldn't interrupt the paradise of sleeping with her. Of sleeping with his wife.

A run to city hall had been a far cry from his imaginings. He'd pictured them in a stone chapel, with Y/N in a stylish white dress and himself in a three-piece suit, pledging their undying love before a priest and an altar. Wafers and incense and a kiss sanctioned by saints.

Though he'd abandoned Catholicism as a kid whose prayers made everything worse, its trappings had a theatricality that appealed to the performer in him. Carried a tradition that meant he belonged.

But he didn't mind missing that, not now. She'd promised they'd have a wedding, and he believed her. This reality was far better than living in his fantasies, for when he reached for her, she stayed in his grasp. With that vow, he could be ready for anything.

He reached towards her now, smoothed stray strands from her forehead. Too giddy to take a deep breath and relax, she'd been up late, far past her normal bedtime of 11:30 PM. She'd called Patricia to let her in on the good news and accepted an invitation for a double date at Bamonte's on Wednesday - tonight - to celebrate.

He'd lingered by the kitchen entrance, head pressed to the wall to listen in.

"He makes me so happy, Patricia," Y/N had said, voice softening to a sigh. "I couldn't love him more."

Cheeks stretched to bursting, his lips strained with overwhelming joy. When she'd called her little sister, and Mabel's delighted, dumbstruck scream had shaken the building, he'd stifled his laughter in his elbow and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

They'd had leftover breakfast for dinner, with Y/N in her bathrobe and he in his pajamas, a sequel with a happy ending. He'd rummaged through the junk drawer for a candle, struck a match and put it in the center of the dinette table. He'd taken an extra second to the chew the scrambled eggs, taste the cinnamon Farina. Savor this first meal shared in wedding bliss.

Y/N had not stopped talking.

Listing the errands necessary to interlace their lives, she'd grabbed a notepad. Jotted his social security number and tucked his Gotham City ID in her purse. (He didn't know why she needed it but figured she wasn't about to steal his identity - she already had his last name.) Gathered the photocopy of their marriage license and the divorce papers from her keepsake box. She called the landlord about adding Arthur to the lease. Told Arthur to meet her at the bank tomorrow to combine their respective checking and savings.

It'd happened too fast, a whirlwind of directions when all he wanted was for her to pay attention to him. To bask in being together. To savor their Signed a Marriage License night. He'd put on Jackie Gleason Orchestra's Music from Around the World, whose shimmery strings and romantic saxophones would slow her down. Prompt visions of a honeymoon to dance in her head. Guide her back to him.

Uncorking a bottle of wine had finally done the trick. He'd poured two glasses, set them on the console record player. Taken her by the hand and led her to the living room.

With a sheepish smile, she'd accepted a goblet. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be bossy. It's just that I-" She shook her head, shaking her excuses away. Full lips flattened to a thoughtful line. "When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I'd end the day as your wife. I couldn't have asked for a lovelier surprise."

His heart sang with a new delight, hit every note with perfect pitch. Confidence gathered in his breast as his words began to flow. "I can't live without you. I'm glad I don't have to. I know I'll make it, because you're here. You- you made my dreams come true."

Giggling, she clinked her glass to his. "Not all of them, I hope. Our future has a lot more in store."

They'd emptied the bottle, drinking until he'd felt weightless. Just after one o'clock, during Gotham Tomorrow Tonight's credits, he'd scooped her off the sofa and carried her to bed, where caresses and whispers swept him to slumber.

Arthur leaned on his elbow, cheek rested on his hand. She lay half supine, her hips turned away, a position that explained why she had to crack her back every morning. A pop! that used to unnerve him but had become a part of her soundtrack. Despite the oath they'd taken, waking beside her felt the same. Natural and normal. He'd assumed the sensation would be bigger, the crescendo of a brass section. But there was comfort in the mundanity. A feeling of rightness that this was how it was meant to be.

Studying her unhurriedly, he let his gaze rove over her, feature by feature. Thick brows, the straight line of her nose, the enticing curve of her cheek. An occasional snore interrupted even breathing. The back of his fingers grazed the column of her neck. Her shoulder stretched upwards, into his grasp. A whiff of her sweat teased her nostrils, a powdery musk that made his mouth water.

The top sheet lay below her armpits, a toffee areola visible through the fine cotton. Gingerly, so as not to wake her, he took the sheet between two fingers and tugged it below her ribs.

Goosebumps rippled across her flesh, her nipple puckered against the cool air. She made a soft sound of half wakefulness. Rolled to rest on her back. His knuckles caressed a featherlight line from her collarbone to the side of her breast. Front teeth sunk into his bottom lip. A sudden awareness flooded him. Of the blood coursing through his veins, and the dull ache blooming at the base of him.

He pulled the sheet further downward, until a nude hip was revealed. A flustered chuckle left him. He'd never understood how she could sleep naked. He'd always thought it too loose, too drafty. (And he hadn't wanted to risk Penny stumbling in at the wrong moment.)

Their first night together, he'd gone to the bathroom before no sleep. Emptied his bladder, washed his hands, rinsed his mouth. Breathed his way through the fact that a woman was waiting for him - in her bed - and the scary, splendorous truth that he'd lost his heart.

When he'd returned to the bedroom, Y/N had peeled back the covers, and he'd let out a startled oh at her lack of panties. She'd laughed and cuddled closer. Whispered "kiss me more" and turned out the light.

Her nearness overwhelming, he basked in her body. The parts hidden and exposed, both of which were a well-loved routine. Tightness stretched his underwear. He ran his palm across his abdomen. His pinky tickled his waistband. Dipped beneath to tease at his black curls. His breath caught. He worked the elastic past his pelvis. Slid lower, squeezed his length through threadbare fabric.

The covers rustled with his languorous movements. He shifted his weight to his forearm, and a spring sprung and squeaked. Y/N squinted. A yawn escaped her, a high-pitched mewl as she stretched. Taking a few seconds to focus, she blinked at him. She made no move to cover herself. A grin overtook her face. "Hi, husband."

The glow of her smile warmed him across the mattress. He scooted towards her. "Hi, wife."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good." He bent to claim her lips. They were supple, soft, and he sighed against them. "I really like being married."

She giggled. "Me, too. The best twelve hours I've had in a long time."

"Actually, it's fifteen." He nodded towards the clock. "You forgot the alarm."

Eager fingers curled around his bicep. "Work can wait." An honor, considering her dedication to her job. That dedication had turned to him.

Neither aware of who first leaned in, their mouths met. Joining and parting, more joining than parting. The tip of her tongue coaxed his, each stroke weaving a thread of desire. Tightening. Tightening. Tighter.

The heady sensation of her teeth on his neck, a subtle sucking at the crook of his shoulder. He mapped the curve of her thigh from the front to the side. Skimmed a satin path to the dip of her waist. He nuzzled at her hair.

"Are you happy?" he asked, certain of the answer but nevertheless longing to hear it.

"Ecstatic." Her sleepy, sensual gaze met his, a frank and admiring look. Bones turning pleasingly liquid, he bathed in it. "I'm so in love with you," she said.

Last evening, blinded by the shock of having what he wanted - and the fear it might go away - he'd taken her fervently. An unrepentant act of possession. This morning was a time for tenderness, for he knew she was really here. Really his.

Diving to her mouth, he pressed himself against her, a pleasured groan in his throat.

"Mmm." She broke off the kiss, lifted the sheet to steel a peek. "What's this?"

A sharp wheezy laugh, her brazen stare setting his cheekbones aflame. "Uh, a good morning?"

One leg rose to embrace him, her fingertips tingling trails up his sides. She licked her lip. "I'll take it."

~~~~~

Y/N sprinted down the sidewalk and burst into the office building's lobby. When the elevator failed to arrive after three button presses, she scurried up the stairs to the second floor, two at a time. She checked her watch. Twenty minutes late wasn't too terrible. She smoothed her hair, straightened her collar, and opened the door.

Dorothy the legal assistant started right in. "You missed a fun one. Angry little man, from the sound of it. Dennis Cower from CityVision Construction." She offered a pink While You Were Out slip. "He left a message on your extension, then called again. I told him you'd get back to him after lunch. Hey, is that a new ring?"

"Yes, it is," Y/N enthused, taking the slip with her left hand. A thrill prompted her to wiggle her fingers, but a sense of foolishness immediately enveloped her, and she waved herself off with a chuckled scoff.

Wanda's bubble gum popped at the next desk over, her typing coming to a halt. Terry looked up from his file. "So that's where you've been!"

"There's no diamond," said Dorothy, a disapproving cleft between her brows.

"No, but it's wonderful." Y/N put the message and her court bag on her L-shaped desk. "Both him and the ring."

A pause before Wanda asked, "Does he have a brother?"

Before her colleagues could waylay her with more questions, she excused herself to the photocopier to continue her mission. She copied three documents: the front and back of Arthur's ID, her divorce decree, and the marriage license. The last was a copy of a copy, and it took a couple of tries to lighten it enough to be legible. Then she knocked on Phil's door, not waiting for a response before turning the knob.

Her boss regarded her over wire frames. "I'll call you back," he said into the phone, and hung up. "It's customary to wait for an answer before barging in. Are you all right?"

"Arthur and I got married yesterday. I need to order a new nameplate and add him to my health, vision, and dental plans. And could I get a pamphlet about life insurance options, please?" Having had no one who'd need a windfall if something happened to her, she hadn't enrolled.

Phil's concerned look could've been worn by her father. "This seems sudden, Y/N."

"It's not," she laughed, taking a seat in the chair across from his desk. "Not at all. I've been waiting for him to ask for six months."

"I'm surprised you didn't propose, with ERA Now and all that."

"I have a few old-fashioned bones in me yet." She offered the marriage license and ID copy. "I'll need to run over to city hall and the bank on my lunch hour. If I'm late, I'll make up the time."

"And this morning's?"

"Yes."

"And yesterday's?"

She set her jaw rather than roll her eyes. "I'll be in an hour early and work late tomorrow and Friday."

He gave the license a glance and retrieved a Dependent Change form from a filing cabinet to his left. "The rate'll be higher if he has pre-existing conditions, but we've negotiated with the company to avoid exclusions."

Scooting forward, she snagged a click pen from its holder. She'd calculated the extra cost as soon as their future had become clear. "When will this be effective?"

"I'll fax it over this morning. It'll take about a week for your husband's cards to be mailed, but he can file a reimbursement form for anything until then." After a moment, he made a rare offer. "Should I be expecting a vacation request?"

Arthur had mentioned a honeymoon, but simply being married to him was a honeymoon in and of itself, one that made her toes curl and her spirit soar. She printed his name on the Gotham Advantage application. Added his social security number and date of birth. "How about two hours tomorrow and Friday?"

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​ @rommies​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​​​​​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​ @fleckficgirl @chaimshelii

[darkfalcone]

untitled jennymisty drabble

misty quigley x jenny (oc)

warnings: nonconsensual picture taking, mentions of masturbation, jenny is way too kind for her own good <33

Jenny sat on the bench, waiting for her own ride to show up. As much as she loved soccer, all she wanted to do was go home and sleep for the most part. She had a fight with Mari, and now Jenny was getting the silent treatment. The fight was over Misty, the equipment manager on the team, and although Jenny never talked to her, she felt as if she had to stick up for her. Hearing Mari go on and on about Misty being weird was tiring, and so she put an end to it. 

Jenny pulled out her book; having some time to kill and wanting to get her mind off things, she decided she was going to read. Opening her book, Jenny read a page before someone sat down next to her. She turned to look and was surprised to see that it was Misty. 

Jenny closed her book, putting it in her backpack before turning to Misty. She gave her a smile and asked, “Hey, what are you doing here still?” 

“Just waiting for my ride! I helped Coach put some more stuff away, and my parents said that they’re running an hour late.” Misty explained. 

“I mean, my dad is on his way to get me; I think we live in the same neighborhood. Would you want a ride?” Jenny offered.

Misty studied her face, trying to see if Jenny was just trying to be mean. But all she saw was kindness, and that made her stomach flutter. 

“I’d like that; I just need to send a message to my parents to let them know.” Misty said, pulling her phone out and sending a message. 

Jenny pulled out a bag of chips, offering the bag to Misty. “You can have the bag if you’d like. I like to bring a bunch of snacks with me so after practice I can eat.” 

“Thank you— why are you so nice to me?” Misty asked, causing Jenny to frown a little.

“You deserve to have people around you who are nice to you.” Jenny said, grabbing something from her bag for herself. 

She had been too focused on digging through her bag to notice Misty sneakily taking pictures of her. Misty stopped when she finally grabbed something out of her bag, turning back to the blonde. 

“Do you like being the equipment manager?” Jenny asked as she opened her peanut butter crackers. 

Misty nodded, “I do! Coach Ben said I would be better as the manager, and I get to have access to rooms that are normally locked!”

“That’s actually pretty cool! Oh! Do you want my number?” Jenny asked.

Misty was excited, creating a contact for Jenny before she gave her her number. Misty texted her, making sure it was her real number, and Jenny smiled when she got the notification.

“Saved it!” Jenny smiled.

“I’m sorry about your fight with Mari, Jenny,” Misty said, putting her jacket in her bag. 

“You heard that?” Jenny frowned when Misty nodded. “You don’t have to apologize; she was being an asshole.”

“It’s just… you stuck up for me against your friends… and now you’re giving me a ride home.” Misty pointed it out.

Jenny nodded. “Yeah, I mean… You never bother anyone, and I was tired of hearing Mari and a few others go on and on about you, so I did what no one does and stood up for you.”

Misty blushed. “Thank you.”

“That’s our ride; you’ll just have to tell my dad which house is yours!” Jenny said, ending that conversation when she noticed that her father’s car pulled into the parking lot. 

Jenny’s father smiled and said hi to Misty as she got into the car. The ride was a comfortable silence until they were down the street Misty lived on, which surprised Jenny that she only lived five houses down.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Christophers!” Misty smiled, grabbing her backpack and opening the car door. 

“Please, you can call me ‘Sam,’ and if you ever need a ride, it’s not a problem.” Jenny’s father smiled.

“Thank you,” Misty said before turning to Jenny. “And thank you for everything today; let me know if you’d like to hang out!” 

Jenny nodded, “Will do!”

They waited for her to go inside before they drove to their house. Unfortunately for Jenny, she didn’t realize that Misty was already growing obsessed with her - planning on getting off to the pictures she took when Jenny wasn’t looking that night.

She couldn’t wait to get closer to Jenny.

[sequinsmile-x]

Where You Go - Chapter 1

She isn’t sure what does it, whether it’s the condescending tone in her mother’s voice, or how she can hear her aunt laughing in the background, but she’s lying before she can stop herself.

“Actually, I am seeing someone."

AKA - the one where Emily asks Aaron, her best friend (who she happens to be hopelessly in love with) to pose as her boyfriend at her cousin's wedding, and things change between them forever.

-x-

Hi friends!

It is once again July, which is not only my birthday month, but the birthday month of a LOT of people in this fandom - so I thought I'd write something to mark the occasion. I love you alls very much and you bring me so much joy with your kudos, comments and reblogs.

I was thinking about what to do, and I know y'all love getting together fics, and I almost never write them when they are not a one-shot. And I've also never done the fake dating trope with these two...so this seems like a perfect opportunity.

Chapters will be weekly throughout July :)

As ever, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: full list of tags can be found on the masterlist

Words: 3.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she sinks onto the couch, a glass of wine in one hand and a pack of peanut butter cups in the other. She’s reaching for the remote, ready to skip through the movie channels until she finds a suitably terrible Sci-Fi flick, when her phone chimes in her pocket. 

She puts down her wine glass and shifts to pull her phone out of her sweatpants and smiles when she sees Aaron’s name on the screen. Her smile turns into a laugh when she sees a selfie of him and Jack attached to his message. They have matching, over the top, frowns on their faces and Jack’s favourite book pressed between them. 

Apparently, my storytime skills aren’t anywhere near as good as yours. 

She presses her lips together to try to stop her smile from getting any bigger, her finger briefly hovering over the image of their faces before she types out her reply. 

What can I say, if you’ve got it - you’ve got it.

She’d always loved Jack. She’d been taken by him the very first time Haley had brought him to the office, way back when she and Aaron were still together and he was just Emily’s boss who didn’t quite trust her. Haley had seemed a little on edge, her frustration clear when Emily told her Aaron was on a call, her eyes flicking to Aaron’s office as she muttered she’d go talk to him regardless. At the time, Emily hadn’t known that their relationship was hanging on by a thread, that Aaron’s dedication to his job was fraying it even further, all she’d seen was an irritated wife whose mood was passing over to her son, a baby Jack wriggling and fussing in her arms. 

Emily had offered to take him without really thinking about it, her hands held out to take the baby from Haley’s arms before her brain caught up with her. Haley had simply smiled gratefully and passed Jack over to her before she’d walked up the stairs towards Aaron’s office with purpose. She’d huffed out a breath, only really aware that she was holding her boss's son when she turned to look at Jack, his face pinched together in a small frown that she was all too familiar with being on the receiving end of from his father. She’d turned his mood around quickly, singing softly to him and sitting him on her lap, smiling and pretending to chew on his fists when he kept trying to grab at trinkets on her desk. 

She’d ignored the curious looks from her teammates and waved off Haley’s gratitude when she walked back down to the bullpen, her shoulders somehow tenser than they had been when she’d walked in, something that was only slightly dissipated when she had her son back in her arms. Aaron had watched the exchange from the gangway, his hands on the handrail as he looked down at them all. Emily hadn’t missed the way he smiled, a quick flash of a thing across his face she was sure he hadn’t meant to show, when he saw how content Jack was in her lap. When she looked back on it, she liked to think that was when Aaron first started to trust her more, the obvious trust his infant son had in her the first shake of the foundations of his mistrust in her. 

Her phone vibrates again and she smiles softly at the response from Aaron, love that felt dangerous to feel blooming in her chest, the flowers of it crowding her lungs. 

We missed you tonight. 

She blows out a shaky breath and closes her eyes, swallowing thickly to push back down the same love her chest was stuffed full of, forever on the brink of letting it all spill out. 

She’d known that she was in love with him for a long time. A feeling she’d had since the start that she’d never dared to name suddenly obvious in the wake of him being missing after Foyet attacked him. Pre-emptive grief and fear that she’d known was more than just friendship rolling in her gut the moment she saw the blood on his living room floor. There was never a good time to do anything about it, never a perfect chance to see if the fleeting moments she thought he might feel the same way too could come to anything. 

By the time his life had settled down as much as it could, when his smile seemed real again and he was coming back out of the shadows Foyet had forced him and his son into, she was dead to almost everyone but him. She’d been so mad at first, stuck in Paris away from everything she’d built around herself, and it was easier to be mad at him than it was to be mad at herself. To pretend she was furious at him for making the decision that had saved her life. As time went on, as her weeks in Paris melting away into months, she realised she was angry at herself, sure that she’d lost her only chance to be happy with him. A crossroads in her life that she’d blindly walked by, sure there would be another turn to it further down the path. 

His, albeit short, relationship with Beth when Emily returned home only confirmed for her that her feelings were one-sided. When he introduced her to them at his recent triathlon it had felt like a kick in the gut, her rolling stomach no longer to do with just her raging hangover. 

He’d recently mentioned in passing that he and Beth had broken up, his smile tight when Emily expressed her sympathy, hoping beyond anything that he wouldn’t see the happiness that lingered beneath. 

Aaron had been an excellent friend to her since her return, and he’d slowly become the person she’d go to first about anything - even over JJ and Penelope. He was the only person who didn’t want her to be who she used to be, who didn’t expect her to fit back into a box that felt nothing short of the wrong fit. He’d started to invite her over to spend time with him and Jack, which is where her supposed superior storytelling skills had come into play. Jack always asked for her to put him to bed if she was there, and she couldn’t say no to him. She could barely say no to Aaron. She loved spending time with them, but sometimes it hurt. Like she was playing house with the people who, in another life, could have been her family. An echo of different choices. A reminder of what could have been. 

It was why she was home tonight even though Aaron had invited her over. She needed some time to re-group, to remind herself that it was okay if he didn’t feel the same way about her, because she’d rather have him as her friend, her best friend, than not at all. She’d told him that she was tired, that she was going to head to bed early, and he, thankfully hadn’t questioned it. 

I miss you both too. Next weekend. 

She’s barely sent her response when the phone starts to ring in her hand, her smile dissolving into a groan when she sees her mother calling her. She blows out a breath and shakes her head, flopping back against the couch as she hits answer. 

“Hi, Mother.” 

“Emily, I’m here with your Aunt Charlotte, and we’re talking about Tiffany’s wedding.” 

Emily rolls her eyes at the mention of her cousin’s wedding and reaches for her glass of wine, “Oh I’m fine, Mom. How are you?” 

Elizabeth scoffs and Emily can just imagine the look on her face. It makes her smile as she sips her wine, “We’re going over the guest list, and it says here you’ve been put down for a plus one.”

She curses herself and sinks into the couch. She hadn’t really thought about it when she filled out the RSVP. She’d ticked the plus one box and idly thought that she’d find a date closer to the time, but now it was a week away and she hadn’t found anyone. Work had been busy, back-to-back cases leaving her with very little time to herself, and there was the small issue of being head over heels in love with her best friend making it difficult to even want to find someone to take as a date. 

“About that-”

“I was just telling Charlotte that you’re not dating, that you haven’t dated in a long time, and I wanted to make sure we weren’t wasting a space. This whole weekend is costing your aunt and uncle a small fortune.” 

She isn’t sure what does it, whether it’s the condescending tone in her mother’s voice, or how she can hear her aunt laughing in the background, but she’s lying before she can stop herself, “Actually, I am seeing someone,” she says, “We’ve been dating for a while and I’m bringing him.” 

“Oh really?” Elizabeth asks, her disbelief clear, “And what is this mystery man’s name?” 

She curses herself again and looks around her apartment as if that would help her create a man out of nowhere, and her eyes land on a picture that Penelope had taken at the triathlon. It was just of her, Jack and Aaron, a photo that was originally just supposed to be father and son but the little boy had insisted Emily join them. Jack had given the framed picture to her recently as a gift, matching smiles on his and Aaron’s faces as they told her she needed more personal touches at her place, the show home feel still lingering in every corner, most of her boxes still unpacked. She sucks in a breath and makes the decision in an instant. 

“Aaron,” she says, clearing her throat, “I’m dating Aaron Hotchner.”

___

She was pacing outside of his office. 

Every now and again he’d look up to see her on the other side of the window, her nervousness clear even through the glass and the closed door. He knew that she’d talk to him about whatever she was getting her head around, but he also knew he couldn’t rush her, that she needed to come to him on her own terms. 

He pretends to focus on paperwork, worst-case scenarios about what could have her so worked up swimming in his head, mixing in with her insistence on spending last night alone and making him anxious. 

It almost feels like a relief when he hears the knock on the door, his answer immediate, “Come in.” 

“Hi,” she says, popping her head around the door, “Do you have a minute?” 

He nods and she smiles gratefully, making sure that the door is closed behind her as she steps into his office. She stares at him, her lips pressed together as she looks down at her feet, a tension in her shoulders that doesn’t make him feel any less worried. 

“You can talk to me about anything, Em,” he says, letting the nickname he only usually used out of work slip free since it was just the two of them, “You know that.” 

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she steps back to sit on the couch in his office, “I know.” 

She falls back into silence and he slips out of his seat, stepping around his desk to join her on the couch, “Emily,” he says, smiling softly when she looks up at him, “You’re worrying me.” 

She huffs out a breath and shakes her head at herself, “Sorry, it’s not anything major or life-changing,” she says, smiling self deprecatingly, “No more secret pasts as a spy, I promise.” 

He chuckles, some of the tension in his chest easing at her joke, “Good,” he replies, smiling wryly at her, “Although, if it was that I’d be impressed that you found the time to do it more than anything else.” 

She laughs and nods, looking down at her clasped hands in her lap, “It’s my cousin’s wedding in Connecticut next weekend. It’s going to last all weekend.”

He nods, his eyebrows knitting together curiously, “I know,” he replies, “You told me. And you blocked the weekend out as unavailable to work months ago.” 

She presses her lips together, “I…my mother called last night and asked if I still needed a plus one. But she’s her,” she says laughing bitterly, “So of course she didn’t just ask normally she asked whilst also insulting my life. I could hear my Aunt Charlotte laughing in the background-”

“Em,” he says, reaching out and touching her arm, squeezing gently, “You’re spiralling,” he says, well aware that only her mother could bring this out of her, “What’s going on?” 

She clears her throat, “I lied and told her I had a boyfriend and that he’s coming with me to the wedding.” 

“Oh,” he replies, the mere thought of her dating someone else forcing his heart to skip a beat. She rolls her eyes at him, clearly frustrated that he wasn’t understanding what she was saying.

“I told her it was you.” 

His eyes go wide, a reaction he’s unable to stop, and he momentarily forgets to breathe.

He’d been in love with her for years. He’d only known thats what it was when he stood over a grave that he knew was empty, guilt for not saving her, for having to send her away, burning him from the inside out. He lied to himself and said when she came back he’d tell her, that he’d try and find a way to let her know, but he never did. At first, it was because he could see how unsteady she was, how uneven her footing was every day she tried to find her place in her new life. Eventually, even as she spent more and more time with him and Jack, he still didn’t say anything, concern for her morphing into concern that she didn’t feel the same way back and that he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. 

He knew that she could do better than him anyway, that she deserved someone with less baggage of his own making. 

He’d tried to make it work with Beth. She was nice, and pretty and made him laugh but she wasn’t Emily. He called things off after a couple of months because he knew it wasn’t fair on either of them to carry on, her irritation at his and Jack’s closeness with Emily, something he wasn’t going to give up, becoming more obvious as time went on. 

He clears his throat, everything he wants to say stuck in it, “Oh.” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she says, “But…I was thinking maybe you could come with me?” 

“Oh.” He says again, still staring at her and she blows out a breath, her pink cheeks puffed out with it.

“You’re saying that a lot,” she says, and the anxious tone in her voice knocks him out of the trance he’s fallen into. 

“Okay.” 

“It’s just it will be the first time I saw any of my family, apart from Mother, since I went into hiding,” she says, as if she hasn’t heard him, “And they are a lot at the best of times, so it might be nice having someone on my side for-”

“Emily,” he says, squeezing her arm again, his smile slightly teasing when she looks back at him, “I said okay.” 

Her eyes go wide, “Okay?” 

He nods, “Okay.” 

She blows out a breath, her shoulders sagging with relief, “Okay.”

He winks at her, “You’re saying that a lot.” 

She rolls her eyes and hits his shoulder lightly, “Stop making fun of your fake girlfriend.” Her comment weighs heavily in the air around them, taking away all the levity of the last few moments and she sighs, “Are you sure?” She asks, “Because I can always just suck it up and talk to her.”

Even though she’s offering him an out he doesn’t even consider taking it, already shaking his head before she finishes talking, “What kind of best friend would I be if I let you face them by yourself.” 

She nods, something he can’t name flashing in her eyes, “Well, I’m sure when Dave was your best friend you never had to pose as a date at a wedding.” 

“No,” he says, laughing, “But I did go to two of his, and at one of them I was best man.” 

She smiles and leans forward, pulling him into a hug, her arms tight around him, “Thank you so much.” 

He takes a second to react, and hugs her back. They rarely touched each other beyond a squeeze of an arm or a shoulder. She hugged Jack all the time, the little boy constantly pressed up against Emily’s side when she was at their apartment, and Aaron was embarrassed to admit it made him jealous of his own son. He takes a moment to appreciate the weight of her against his chest, the smell of her perfume and her shampoo filling his senses, and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to sink into it.

“You’re welcome.” 

The hug lasts a second longer than he thinks it should, and she must come to the same realisation because she pulls away, her smile shy as she stands up, “Well, I should get back to my paperwork. My boss is a bit of a hardass.”

He laughs and stands up too, “I heard you’re his favourite though, so I’m sure you’ll get away with it,” he says, his heart ballooning in his chest when she smiles widely, her dimples carved out in her cheeks, almost daring him to press his thumbs against them, “You’ll send me all the information for the wedding?”

She nods, “Of course,” she says, pausing in the doorway, her hand on the handle as she looks at him again, “Thanks again, Aaron. It…it means a lot.” 

He smiles softly as he walks back over to his desk, “No problem, Emily,” he says, holding his smile as she walks out of his office, her stride lighter than it had been when she’d walked in, as if he’d physically lifted a weight off of her shoulders. The door closes behind her and he’s alone again, the rest of his sentence free to escape now she was no longer in earshot, “I’d do anything for you.” 

It wouldn’t be easy, acting like they were everything he wanted them to be for a couple of days before going back to normal, a strange type of personal torture he was putting himself through simply because she’d asked, but he’d do it. 

He’d do anything for the woman he loved, even if she never loved him back in the way he wanted. 

-x-

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[hyunjinners]

Can i request more Ahn Jun-ho one shots? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 I started watching the series recently and i'm in love w that man 😩 i need fics about him 😭

✧:･ﾟComfort Home → Ahn Jun-ho x reader ˚₊· ꒰💚꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊Jun-ho's family is full of ups and downs, but his days become better when Jun-ho ends up in the arms of his beloved.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊Ahn Jun-ho x fem¡reader.

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊cute, comfort, a little sad (because of his family, but nothing too distressing).

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊fights, family issues, possible trigger (?), Jun-ho in his delicate moment, reader being a good girlfriend >>> 🤍, let me know if you have anything else to add! :)

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊2,3k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊hey! ;) I'm finally able to write something after a while. It's amazing how creativity comes at the most unexpected moments. I hope you like the chapter, as I didn't specify the genre of the chapter in the request, I decided to do something in the middle of the road, a little sad, but happy. English is not my first language! I apologize in advance for any spelling and/or grammatical errors. Good reading! 🤍 ^-^

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist.❜ɞ

Jun-ho runs his hand through his hair for the thousandth time during the conversation, more specifically an argument. His eyes burned with a suppressed desire to cry, but he needed to be strong and he knew that showing his true emotions might make him lose his credibility..

“Mom, you need to listen to me. I love you, but everything is very troubled. He does not deserve you. Let go of him, mom… please. If not for me or for you, then for your youngest daughter. Jun-ho speaks a little calmer after his tired sigh. It was the third time this week alone that Jun-ho learned that once again his mother's husband, or the sperm donor as he likes to say, was disrupting the lives of his mother and younger sister.

The abusive relationship between his mother and father is something that has happened since he was little, small signs of a toxic relationship tracing the years before he was even born. Jun-ho's father was extremely intolerant and reckless, always taking small amounts of money that his mother managed to earn to buy food, only to spend it on drinks and more, and if she didn't want to give it, he would beat her like a damn punching bag. And the worst of all was not only that he witnessed these atrocities when he was little, but his younger sister is going through the same process even though he tries to advise his mother to finally open her eyes.

She wasn't an idiot and he understood very well that it wasn't an easy thing to do, but it was still very frustrating, even more so when she called him to ask if her younger sister could stay in his care for a weekend or at least until things got better.

Small and tragic situations like this were what drove Jun-ho to work from such an early age and focus on his studies to have a better life, leaving home as soon as he saved enough money to rent a small apartment in a simple condominium.

But here he was, after finally getting his leave from the army, sitting in his mother's backyard while drinking peanut soju. His mother said she just wanted to talk to him, find out how he was doing and if everything was ok with his girlfriend and events in his life. But after Jun-ho saw the small purple bruise near his mother's cheekbones, he immediately tensed and, what was supposed to be a calm conversation between mother and son, ended up accumulating into a big snowball that was about to explode.

“My son, everything is fine. We're fine, how many times do I need to tell you this?”

“Until the day you leave him and live a happy life. Tell me, mom, when was the last time you gave a sincere smile of happiness? Or the last time you felt happy to finally get home after a hard day at work? You created me and I am very grateful for that, so I just want to repay you by looking out for your good.” She stays silent, seeming to absorb Jun-ho's words, but quickly looks down at the floor with shame and pure sadness, not wanting to have that conversation with her eldest son.

“Please, Jun-ho… let’s not talk about this anymore.” Jun-ho's jaw tightened, but he nodded silently. Jun-ho quickly grabbed his coat, looking straight into his mother's eyes, before walking out the front gate with a pounding in his head..

.

The girl happily turns off the heat of the tomato sauce, placing it on top of the noodles she lovingly prepared for her boyfriend. It had been a year and a few months since Jun-ho joined the army and it was the hardest time of both of their lives. Neither of them were away from each other for that long and both Jun-ho and Y/n knew that the challenges that awaited Jun-ho in the army would require a lot of effort from him, making him feel that his.

Everything became more distressing when Jun-ho barely called or responded to the girl's messages. He was going through an extremely delicate moment with this whole thing about deserters and bullies in the camp, causing him to reserve himself and set aside a period to think alone.

But everything got better when she had the most irresponsible and crazy attitude she had ever had in her life: discovered the location of where Jun-ho was during one of his missions looking for defectors, and went to Busan after a tiring bus ride just to say that whatever happened to him and everything around him, she would always be there to support him and remind him that he was never and will never be alone.

Initially he was desperate and afraid that you would get hurt because you were “invading” a mission, he snapped at you for your irresponsibility but his stance changed after realizing his girlfriend's determination just to make him feel better from all the pressure put on his shoulders. He felt like she was a breath of air in the middle of a cold night that made him shiver as she gently filled his lungs, reminding him of what it is to truly live.

A few months later he finally came home for a month of rest and you couldn't be happier and more grateful. It's been three days since he arrived, and even though he initially seemed a little hesitant and distant, you knew that Jun-ho needed to be home. In your home.

The password verification noise from the front door sounded shrill in the empty and slightly dimly lit apartment, where you could see light and hear the low noise of dishes and pans coming from the kitchen. Jun-ho tried to silently sneak down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Y/n knew he had arrived, so she quickly finished everything in the kitchen to call him to eat.

Turning on the lights in the apartment, Y/n walked calmly towards the bedroom, opening the door ajar, then hearing the low thump of the shower water bathing Jun-ho's body. Smiling, the girl knocked lightly on the bathroom door, happy that he was finally home. She was a considerably anxious person, so she planned and scheduled an entire night together, including a movie and hugs, all for Jun-ho's rest and comfort.

“Hey, Jun-ho.” Y/n speaks in a tone loud enough to overpower the sound of the water, which was turned off when Jun-ho heard his girlfriend's voice. "Hey my love. I'm already going, I'm just going to finish my shower. You can eat if you want.” His voice was considerably lower than normal, but she just brushes it off by muttering a small confirmation.

Almost half an hour has passed when Jun-ho finally sits down on the chair opposite Y/n. His hair was wet and he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Comfortably beautiful, she thought. He directed a slight smile at her, which unconsciously showed his tiredness and discouragement. A wave of worry flooded Y/n's thoughts, imagining what must have happened at her house.

Y/n was aware of her mother-in-law's abusive relationship and knew that Jun-ho didn't approve of any of it, getting frustrated every time she spoke to her mother or saw her in person. With a knowing smile, Y/n reached out, cradling Jun-ho's hand in hers. "Everything is fine?”

The short sentence of just three words was the trigger, the direct impulse for him to break. His eyes were slightly red and burned from the tears shed during the shower, but now it didn't matter because they came back with full force, making Jun-ho's face moist.

Y/n immediately went to his side, wrapping him in a tight hug, Jun-ho's head resting in the crook of her neck. Seeing Jun-ho cry meant that he was at the height of everything, that everything came together and came crashing down with a thunderous thud.

Jun-ho was the type of person who prioritized maintaining a firm stance so as not to have to explain his weaknesses and concerns, but when he was around his girlfriend it was like that whole facade fell and he felt the need to spill everything to her. He felt heard and loved when he was with her, he didn't feel like a burden or a nuisance, he was just him. He could be him around Y/n because she was her around him too, she prioritized his well-being before hers and he sometimes didn't know how to show his gratitude.

Feeling Jun-ho's shoulders shake and hearing his painful sobs was like a stab in her back, making her feel helpless because she couldn't do anything to take away all the pain and weight from him, everything.

With a gentle squeeze on his shoulders, she hugged Jun-ho affectionately, feeling him getting impossibly closer to her. The smell of her perfume made Jun-ho feel more comfortable, she smells like home, he thought. This made him cry even more, feeling unworthy of having such a caring person by your side to not only listen but also understand your emotions and help you deal with them.

Y/n can feel her own tears falling down her face, her heart almost comes out of her mouth at the thought of her love, her world, the most important person in her life being in pain. Not just any pain, but the worst pain ever. The emotional pain. The pain of not being able to do anything, the pain of feeling unable to help the people you love.

He knew the situation was beyond his reach, which was why he felt so frustrated. He didn't need to say anything to her, his tears told a silent story of an ongoing event that unfortunately affects Jun-ho's life. She understood him, so she didn't ask anything. Her sobs stopped and her tears lessened considerably. Y/n gently pushed Jun-ho away from him, but not far enough to break the hug.

Jun-ho's now red and swollen eyes widened at the sight of the tears that now graced his girlfriend's face. She reached out with her hands and her thumbs wiped away the tears so gently as if Jun-ho would break down at any moment. He repeated the process, wiping away Y/n's tears, doubt dancing across his expression.

“Why are you crying, dear? I hurt you?" His voice, hoarse from crying, was almost a whisper, hesitantly low. She smiled, resting her hand on Jun-ho's that rested on the girl's cheek. “No, that's not it. I just hate with all my might to see you sad. You make me so happy, Jun-ho, that seeing you sad is like seeing clouds cover up the sun on a summer afternoon.” He absorbs the words and for the first time that night she shows a smile. He admired the empathy that Y/n had not only for those she loved, but for all people and without expecting anything in return.

“You don’t need to cry if you weren’t the cause behind my tears…thanks for supporting me, darling.” As a simple answer, Y/n leans slightly towards Jun-ho's lips, her breath tickling his face. Jun-ho connects their lips in a needy kiss, a reciprocal comfort being silently placed upon each other.

“Promise me that when you have a problem you won't keep it to yourself? I'm here for and for you, Jun-ho. You can tell me things that there is no need to repress within yourself. You are a wonderful human being and deserve love like anyone else. And I love you, that's why I'm available for everything. Even if it’s just to sit next to you in silence.”

Y/n watches the light reflect on Jun-ho's face from the new solitary tear shed, but there was no sadness this time, just the happiness of understanding that he was not alone on the walk. That I had a home to return to in bad times. Without saying anything else, this time he hugs her tightly, drawing small imaginary circles on her back.

“Thank you for caring about me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” They both knew that this was not the first nor would it be the last fight between Jun-ho and his family, but this time he was aware that he had arms waiting for him to rest on difficult days.

⊹₊˚ʚ❛A/N: It was supposed to be a short chapter, but I guess I can't even complain because I finally developed something after so much creative block. I hope you liked it, tell me what you think! :) If you made an ask, don't worry, I just haven't had enough creativity yet to develop a chapter, but we'll have news soon. like × reblog. by:: @hyunjinners .❜ɞ