#jessica? she has three kids how about you

[gonzodangerfeels]

If you want to rim me why are you running away?

I just rimmed you, I mean let's pray you're fair

[cimmanonrowl]

Eat Your Young pt.2

Part One | Masterlist

Coming down from the high that Aaron introduced you to feels impossible at this point. Following your very first encounter after his arrival, there isn't a day that he didn't make you feel desired and pleasured. And what better way to have him sated than letting him fuck you senseless out of pure unadulterated jealousy?

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, masturbation, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, daddy & sir kink, unprotected, rough sex, angry sex, jealous!aaron, size difference, belly bulging, dirty talk, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pure filth, pussy-eater, bearded aaron.

You weren’t sure what was waiting ahead when you accepted the job. 

For one, it was a blessing, given your old employers were moving out of state and you couldn’t go with them. They wanted to bring you, of course. They wanted you to come with them but you had to decline as you have plans of your own after you finish your studies. It was a hard decision to make. You were with the family for almost three years, they helped you through University so you don’t drown in student loans and debt, and the kids loved you as much as you loved them. Even without telling you, you could tell their parents felt bad you’re losing your only financial support at the moment.

That was when Jessica was sent to you like an angel in disguise.

She was an acquaintance; a close friend to your employers, so in a way you knew the woman and some bits of her life. You knew that she was taking care of her nephew, although occasionally; a young kid named Jack. You knew that she loved looking after him but her new promotion at work demanded more and more of her time, so she and her brother-in-law had to look for extra help. Apparently, Jack’s father was a very busy man, as you were told.

And that was when you became part of the Hotchners.

For them, you were heaven-sent.

“I’m fine, Jess…” you mumbled over the phone as you read the street sign quietly. You were almost there, almost, heaving a little as you dragged your suitcase behind you. “Of course, I’m nervous… you know how it is. I’m not very good with…”

“Kids?” you heard her breathy laughter at the other line, more teasing than incredulous.

You chuckled in return, shaking your head. “Fathers, actually. It’s different talking to women and knowing how exactly they want things to be done. Fathers aren’t like that. They expect— they just expect you to figure out everything.”

“Aaron isn’t like that,” she assured you, her voice kind. “You’ll see. He knows how he likes things and will tell you so. He’s a good man.”

Your heart hammered against your chest. He knows how he likes things. And he will tell you so. That’s supposed to be an assurance, right? So, why on Earth were you blushing?

Must be because of those damn pictures, a voice in your head whispered. Last night– maybe it was the nerves, or your plain curiosity after hearing many stories about the man that you let yourself get swayed by temptation. You were not one to research about your employers. A brief personal background was always provided by the agency to ensure that employees like you will be in safe hands, and it has always been enough. But last night, for some reason, you felt the need to know him.

In the past week you were negotiating with Jessica, you never met Mr. Hotchner. You thought it was weird and so reckless of him. He’s a federal agent. You expected him to be paranoid, careful at a fault. Why wouldn’t he insist on meeting firsthand the stranger who will take care of his son? The one he’ll let inside his home? It seemed like he didn’t care at all. All you knew was he was out on a case and wouldn’t be home at least for a couple more days. You don’t even know what this man looks like.

You met his son three days ago, though, and you already love the kid. Jack was a little shy at first, soft-spoken, but cheeky as he was polite. You wondered since then if he got that from his father. But you thought it was unlikely when you started digging information from the internet.

“So serious…” you whispered as you plucked the cherry from the stem, chewing slowly as you continued scrolling through the available pictures of him on the web. 

There were YouTube links that also popped out when you typed in his name. You knew he’s some kind of bigshot fed but it still shocked you when you realized Mr. Hotchner had to stand in front of the camera and make public announcements on the news. It was impossible not to notice that face. But the least you could say is he looks good. Then you had to stop yourself there and divert your attention to the flaws you could pinpoint.

He looks strict and scary. In every video you opened, there was a tight frown on his face. It looks like he barely smiles or doesn’t know how to, and that he’s always constipated. What a poor man. You could already imagine your days in their household getting shouted at for being clumsy.

“You’re here! Dad, she’s here! Dad! She’s here!” the familiar voice of a young boy cut through your thoughts. 

You stood still outside the closed gate of your new residence, peering over where a kid was running toward your direction, and an older man distractedly dribbling a basketball in a mini court. He was topless and sweaty. His arms strong, his muscles taut. And even from a distance, you could tell that he was watching you, too.

Then your eyes met and he smiled, warm and so kind.

At that moment you knew that this wouldn’t be bad after all.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It’s late— later than you realized and Aaron still wasn’t home after a long day in the office. You’ve learned not to worry too much as you’ve grown accustomed to his late nights. He always comes home to you and Jack. But every night, there was a part of you that couldn’t fully relax until you heard the sound of his key in the door.

The clock just struck half past 10 o’clock. Most of the lights were already dimmed and the house was filled with silence. Jack had just gone to bed. These past few days, you realized how things changed. It took you almost an hour to convince him to get off his iPad and stop the game he was playing with his friends, and another hour before he fell asleep reading you his book of choice for this week. Which explains why you’re still up at this hour.

The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound that accompanied you as you moved through the living room, gathering up Jack’s scattered Lego blocks and soldier figurines. It was all over the place. You told him countless times to clean up his mess before eating dinner, but he just shrugged you off and told you he’d clean it up later. Hours passed by and he seemed to forget about his promise as he was already engrossed with the weird game he was playing on his iPad. 

Jack was growing fast. And as much as the thought put an ache in your heart, you knew this was also inevitable.

But the thing is, you have no idea how you should deal with these changes. You didn’t dare scold him, no– considering your growing relationship with his father. You didn’t want him to think that you were crossing the line of acting like his mother, or a replacement for her. So, you thought it was better you wait for Aaron to come home and bring up this issue instead.

Another deep sigh escaped your lips as you bent down to pick up another handful of Lego blocks. You’re ready to go to bed, already clad in your satin nightgown, a pale pink that clings to your curves; feeling soft and smooth against your skin. The thin straps would occasionally slip off your shoulders as you reach for more toys, and the hem would brush against your thighs as you move.

“Didn’t think you’d still be up…”

You froze at the voice, still bent over, before straightening up and turning toward the entryway just as Aaron stepped inside. 

His presence filled the space immediately. He’s still in his work clothes— a dark suit that looks a little rumpled from the long day, his tie loosened and his shirt collar open. His hair was slightly disheveled, and you noticed the tiredness in his eyes that he tried to hide as he closed the door behind.

For a moment, his eyes lingered on you, taking in the way the satin nightgown hugged your body, the fabric clinging to the curve of your hips, the way the hem fluttered around your thighs. There was a brief flicker of something in his gaze, appreciative, and scandalously lustful. You saw the slight tug at the corner of his lips behind his thick beard.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he greeted.

Your heart did that familiar, annoying little skip when he languidly crossed the room and caged you in his arms. He sighed deeply, kissed your forehead then your lips, before resting his cheeks at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Rough day, Mr. Hotchner?” you wanted to tease him, but with his hot breath fanning over your neck, the coarse hair of his beard against your skin, your words came out breathless.

You heard him groan, his voice low and a little rough when he said, “You have no idea, baby. Why are you still up, anyway? Did Jack gave you a hard time?”

“He’s just growing, Aaron. That’s how it is.”

“So he did?” he concluded, “I’ll talk to him, baby. There’s just too much going on at work.”

You hummed and nodded, running your fingers through his hair, understanding and supporting him without needing any details. You’ve never pressed him for specifics about his work and you know that Aaron was carrying enough weight on his shoulders without you adding to it. But even so, there was something in his tone and the exhaustion in his face that made you hug him tighter.

“You’re home now,” you said softly, massaging his scalp, “You should sit down for a bit. I can make you something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Just then, you felt his teeth dug gently on the skin of your neck. “How about I eat you instead?”

“Aaron…” you couldn’t help but giggle, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“Hmm?” 

“Not here.”

He let out a soft grunt. “You smell heavenly, baby. I want to fuck you.”

His voice was raspy, gruff from all the grueling hours he spent in the office. You squirmed and chuckled quietly as you felt his lips trailing wet kisses on your neck, the soft curve of your shoulders, and even your jaw. His thick beard tickling you with every little movement.

You let out a sigh, clamping your thighs as you felt the heat dampening your cotton underwear. “Not here, Aaron. I’ll finish- I’ll clean up this mess first.”

He didn’t seem to hear you. The rough pad of his calloused palm roamed and caressed every inch of your clothed body. His hands moved to the curve of your ass, the swell of your breast, kneading your tits roughly on his hands while rolling your now sensitive nipples in between his thick fingers.

“I missed you so much, angel…” he said in a whisper, “I can’t get enough of your little pussy. You make me so hard, feel that?”

He guided your hand to the obvious bulge in his pants. Although that idea thrilled you, your fingers trembled in embarrassment and anticipation. You glanced up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your breath caught in your throat, while he hissed as you softly cupped and pressed your palm on his restrained cock, moving your hand experimentally in circles.

“Fuck,” he grunted your name, you even saw a muscle twitch on his tight jaw. “Saw you innocently bent over when I stepped into that door. It’s almost like you’re begging someone to ruin your tight cunt, is that right, angel?”

His hand found the dampness in between your legs, already pressing his thumb on your aching clit, yet it was the crudeness of his words that made you whimper. “S-sir…”

“Use your big words, sweet girl.”

“Not s-someone, sir…” you admitted. “Just you. W-want you to use me.”

A satisfied smile played on his lips.

“I know, baby. Want me to fuck you with my big cock, don’t you? Always fucking ready to spread your legs for me, is that right?”

You nodded dumbly, blinking up at him. 

“Are you a whore?”

“N-no...” you said unsurely, “No, daddy. Not a w-whore.”

The dark look in his eyes brought you back to the memories of earlier in the morning. He gave you a small smile. “You’re daddy’s baby, I know, little girl.”

Like he always does, Aaron woke you up earlier with his face buried between your legs. He was lapping your dripping cunt like a madman, licking and sucking with his expert mouth. Two of his thick fingers were pushed deep inside you, making a lewd squelching sound as he nudged the sweet bundle of nerves inside. Your legs were trembling uncontrollably all you could do was moan and tug on Aaron’s hair. When he looked up to see your face, his beard was wet and a string of saliva was hanging from his lips and to your puffy folds.

You already came twice today. One from his mouth, as promised. And one from his big, leaking cock. He had your legs wide open, his hand pressed on the back of your thighs until you were folded almost in half, and rammed his big cock in and out of your weeping cunt with vigor. His eyes were focused on where you were both connected, watching in awe how you willingly swallow his thick cock in your body. He enjoyed watching the bulge appear in your stomach with every deep thrust.

He called you sweet names as he came inside you, flooding your womb with his warm cum. It took him all the self-control (and a message from Morgan) not to bend you again over the sink as he watched you walk to the bathroom, his release slowly dripping down your legs. And he wished you only knew how he wanted to push it back inside and keep his cock buried in your raw cunt for the rest of the day.

- - - - - - - ��� ★

The Saturday sun beamed over the soccer field where kids are darting back and forth in a burst of energy. The sidelines were lined with parents and family members, all chatting and watching the game with varying degrees of attention. You were standing among them, your eyes following Jack as he weaved between the other kids, his face bright with determination. Every now and then, his laughter carries across the field, and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

Aaron was beside you, his arms crossed as he watched Jack with that focused intensity he always seemed to have when it comes to his son. You could tell that as much as they were both competitive, he was worried that some accidents may happen. 

“I’m going to check in with Jack for a minute,” Aaron informed you as he let go of your intertwined hand, nodding toward the bench where Jack was sitting during a break. “Be right back.”

You nodded and watched in silence as Aaron strode across the field toward Jack, the sun catching in his dark hair. You took a deep breath, relaxing a little now that you were alone for a moment. It feels good to be outside, to be with Aaron, but you hate the weird glances some mothers were throwing at you. As if you were doing something illegal.

Just as you were about to take a seat on one of the folding chairs, a familiar man approached you from the side, his expression friendly. You recognized him as one of the other parents and father of one of Jack’s friends at school, though you don’t recall his name right away. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and a warm, easygoing smile.

“Hey there,” he said with a chuckle, gesturing toward the field. “Quite a game, huh?”

You smiled back, letting out a small laugh. “Tell me about it. My bones could never. I’m exhausted just watching them.”

The man laughed, then glanced over at the field before turning his attention back to you. “I’m Tom, by the way,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve seen you around a few times… and my son told me last night he and Jack partnered for the bake sale activity at school.”

You shook his hand. “I think I recall Jack telling me about that bake sale. Is Jake your son?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Tom replied, nodding fast and chuckling. “I thought you’d think I’m just making up excuses to come up to a pretty woman and start chatting with her—”

“Pretty woman?” you smiled at the compliment, glancing up at him.

“Well, yeah. Anyway…” Tom grinned shyly, clearly pleased. “Yeah, my son was crazy about beating the other boys or something like that. Tell you honestly, I have no idea what to bring. I’m useless in the kitchen, but I don’t want to be that guy who just shows up with store-bought stuff, you know?”

You laughed softly, nodding in understanding. “I do get it. But it’s a good thing they can choose a partner. If you want, I could help you out. I make a pretty mean batch of cookies.”

Tom’s face lit up with genuine gratitude. “Really? That would be amazing. I mean, only if you have time to accommodate— I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” you waved off his concern. “I like baking, plus I can invite Jake to come over so I have another little assistant.”

“Or me?” The man teased. “Just kidding. That would be incredible. You just saved me from embarrassment. The old ladies at school… they’re very, you know.”

The sound of your laughter tangled in the air. But as the laughter fades, you felt a subtle shift in the air. You unconsciously wandered your eyes around and realized Aaron was standing just a few feet away, his eyes trained on you and Tom, his expression intense. His strong arms were crossed, and there was a tightness in his jaw that wasn’t there before.

“Hey,” you greeted, offering Aaron a small smile as he stepped closer. “Everything okay with Jack?”

Aaron nodded, though his eyes briefly flickered over to Tom, taking in the easy conversation you’ve been having. “He’s fine,” Aaron replied, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something sharper, something controlled. “Just needed a little pep talk.”

Tom, the poor man oblivious to the tension, smiled at Aaron and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Tom. We were just talking about the kids’ upcoming school bake sale.”

Aaron shook his hand, but there was a slight stiffness to the gesture. “Aaron Hotchner. Jack’s father.”

Tom nodded, then focused back on you. “Thanks again for the offer. If it’s alright, I was thinking— maybe I should grab your number? You know, just so we can coordinate for the bake sale and all that. Would make it easier to figure out what to bring.”

He was just being friendly and practical, that’s what you know. But the suggestion lingered in the air awkwardly. You could feel Aaron tense beside you, the shift in his posture subtle but unmistakable. With hesitation, you glanced at Aaron out of the corner of your eye. His expression has hardened, his jaw clenched just enough to be noticeable, and there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes—something possessive, territorial even. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Aaron stepped in, his voice low and edged with barely restrained anger. “If you need anything, you can go through me.”

Tom blinked, clearly caught off guard. He forced out a chuckle, trying to brush off the tension with a good-natured grin. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. Just thought it’d be easier—”

“You don’t need her number for that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling everyone’s attention on the growing commotion. Aaron’s eyes were still fixed on Tom, his stance rigid, his body language screaming of a barely controlled fury. This wasn’t just about the number.

Tom raised his hands slightly, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Hey, no problem,” he said, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes as he glanced between you and Aaron. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

You forced a tight smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Tom. Maybe we can let the kids decide and start there.”

Tom nodded again. “Yeah, sure. I’ll catch you both around.” He gave a quick wave before turning and walking back toward the crowd of parents, his pace a bit quicker than before.

As soon as Tom was out of earshot, the silence between you and Aaron felt heavy. You could feel the heat of Aaron’s anger, his jaw still clenched as he silently watched Tom disappear into the distance.

You glanced up at Aaron, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “What was that about?”

“What?” Aaron finally tore his gaze away from Tom, turning to face you. There was a storm in his eyes, it made your breath catch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admitted, his voice rougher than before. Then he mumbled, “Or him having your number. Why would he have your fucking number for? Bake sale and all that, that fucking idiot.”

You grimaced at his admission, of how easily he admitted what he felt. You’ve never seen Aaron like this before— so openly protective, so possessive— and it stirred something deep inside you that was too intense to put a name on.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “He was just being friendly, Aaron. It was harmless.”

“Maybe to you,” His voice was still tensed as he retorted. “But I didn’t trust him. And I don’t like the idea of other men thinking they can just… move in like that.”

You bit back a smile, a little amused by his jealousy.

“We were talking about bake sales, not making any plans to run off together,” you nudged his arm with your elbow teasingly.

Aaron took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared down at you. “Oh, so you can joke. Do you think this is funny?”

“What? Of course no–”

“Jack will be out on a sleepover,” he leaned closer to your ear just to whisper, “We’ll fucking talk later, hm? Save your explanations ‘cause I’ll fuck you like a whore.”

Your breath staggered as you pressed your lips shut. You knew by then that it was going to be a long, long night.

- - - - - - - ⋆ ★

The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang as you and Aaron stumbled inside, your bodies pressed tightly together. His big, calloused hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into your skin as your mouths crashed together in a rough, desperate kiss.

Everything felt hazy, like you were moving through a dream, but there was nothing gentle about the way you were kissing him, or the way his hands were gripping you. It felt like he couldn’t get close enough. It was frantic, dirty, almost reckless, as if both of you were on the verge of losing control and neither of you cared.

You barely noticed the door swing shut behind you as Aaron pushed you roughly up against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through your body, but the only thing you could focus on was him— his scent, his warmth, the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his strong body felt pressed up against you.

“Aaron…” you managed to gasp out between kisses, your voice breathless. You could barely think, your mind clouded with desire, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea, a litany. “D-daddy... slow- slow... down...”

His hands were everywhere— on your waist, your hips, sliding down to the curve of your thighs as he gripped you tightly, pressing his bulge against your needy cunt. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by another fierce kiss as his body pinned you harder against the wall, pressing you there as if you might disappear if he let go.

“I’m s-sorry… D-daddy, please…”

“Please what?” he groaned against your mouth, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then to your neck, the coarse hair on his chin scraping against your skin as he kissed a heated path down your throat. “Now you’re sorry? Bet you fucking liked the attention earlier. Thought you aren’t a whore?”

“No. I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m not—”

His rough hands slid up your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up and over your head with a quick, impatient movement. The cool air hit your skin, but it was immediately replaced by the warmth of his touch as his hands moved over your bare skin, his fingers digging into your flesh like he wanted his mark so deeply ingrained in your skin and your whole being.

“Feels like you’re forgetting who you belong to.”

You shook you head, moaning as you felt his hand travel closer to your heat. “No, no. I belong to you, sir. Only you. I’m so sorry, daddy.”

“Are you?” he barked a taunting laugh. “And why do you belong to me then, little girl? Why does this pussy belong to me?”

“Because… b-because you take care of m-me, daddy.”

“I fucking do, don’t I?” he remarked, tracing soft circles on your clit through the rough fabric of your jeans. “And I’m so fucking good to you. So why are you fucking ungrateful, angel? Batting your eyelashes and giggling with other men like a cheap whore on the streets?”

You felt like crying. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. You messed up and now he’s mad. But you don’t like the words coming out of his mouth. You only want to be daddy’s good girl.

“I’m s-sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, I-I promise.”

“No, baby. I bet you it won’t,” he pulled back for a second, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, his chest rising and falling with the force of his ragged breaths. “I’ll fuck you until your little belly’s round with my cum and you’re pregnant with my child. I’ll knock you up so every man will know whose cock split your tight cunt open. You like that, little girl? You want to be a good whore for daddy?”

You nodded and grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him back down to you, crashing your lips together again as the two of you stumbled further into the room, barely able to focus on anything but each other. Your legs hit the edge of the couch, and before you know it, Aaron was already manspreading in front of you, while you knelt in front of him, your hands laid on your lap.

“Atta girl, look at you,” you keened at the praise, biting on your lower lip as you waited patiently for him to remove his shirt and finish unbuckling his belt.

“Can- can I suck your cock, s-sir?” you said weakly. “Please?”

Aaron hissed as his cock sprang free, slapping the base of his soft stomach. His cock was already hard and leaking, the tip shiny with beads of precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. But still, you waited for his permission, glancing up at him innocently, patiently.

He leaned on the couch and pumped his length slowly, an amused smirk on his lips. “Remove your pants.”

You whimpered and did what he told you. That wasn’t the permission you were waiting for but still you obliged eagerly. Your eyes focused on his hand slowly fisting his hardening cock before glancing up and meeting his eyes. Aaron let out a deep breath as he took in your naked body, your tits, your now swollen lips, and even your thighs that you were subtly rubbing to create some friction.

“Play with your tits, baby,” he said gruffly, “Put on a show for me like a good girl. Go on.”

There was something possessive in his gaze, a wildness that you’d never seen in him before, but it sent a thrill directly through your wet core. You played with your tits, kneaded the soft mound, and pinched your nipples making you whimper pathetically.

Aaron pumped his cock a little faster, his hungry eyes following your movements. “Spread your legs, want to see that pussy of yours.”

It felt humiliating, to scamper on your knees to follow his orders. But still you did. Because the moment you opened your legs for him, Aaron let out a loud growl and gripped his cock tightly on his fist, as if he was trying not to cum just by the sight of your wet cunt. You felt happy with his reaction.

With trembling fingers, you opened your puffy folds to show him how much you desired to be fucked, your clit swollen, your cunt desperately fluttering and clenching on nothing.

“Is that all for me?”

You nodded, your body tingling with pleasure and pride.

“D-daddy…” you sounded meek, all up for the taking. “Want you, p-please. Sir, please? Please?”

You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath as he thumbed the leaking tip of his big and veiny cock. In a swift movement, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you sigh in relief.

“Ride my cock then. Show me how much you want it.”

There was hunger in him that matched your own. The sound of your highpitched whining and Aaron’s deep grunt weaved through the air. You sank down his big cock, your cunt clenching to accommodate his girth. Aaron was so big you don’t think it’s possible to get used to it, the burn of the stretch was there, but it was heady and intoxicating.

“Aaron,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as your fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more, needing him. The intensity was overwhelming, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. “D-daddy, help. Help, please.”

“Pathetic,” he growled against your lips. With one sharp thrust, he plunged the rest of his cock into your raw cunt.

“T-thank you, sir…” you mewled at the feeling, grounding your hips in slow circles. “Good- feels g-good…”

His lips trailed back down your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His beard scratched your skin. Every touch, every kiss, feels like fire, igniting something primal deep inside of you that you hadn’t even realized was there.

“Does it, angel? Who’s making you feel good right now?”

You arched your back, pressing into him. “Y-you, sir. J-just you...”

A harsh slap landed at the side of your thigh. 

“Louder!”

“You, d-daddy! Only y-you. OH MY GOD, AARON!” you screamed, hiding your flushed cheeks at the crook of his neck as Aaron plowed his cock so deep into your frail body. “You’re making me feel g-good. You fuck me so well, daddy! I love your cock, you own me, you ow-”

You heard a low growl reverberate through his heaving chest. He propped his knees at the edge of the couch for better leverage. You felt his cock pulsating deep inside you, his thighs strong beneath your trembling legs. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears and the force of Aaron’s cock ramming inside you. The noise leaving his open lips was dirty, primal, so filthy all you could do was take it.

You let him ruin you.

Let him use you to his heart content.

Like that’s all you’re worth for.

“I’ll fuck my baby inside of you, little girl, ‘s that what you want?” he panted beneath you, his hips staggering a little. “I’ll make you all round and pretty. Everyone will know whose whore you a-are…”

Yes, yes, yes. You couldn’t bring yourself to say. You just whimpered, your voice raw and absolutely fucked out. You just let yourself feel how his cock assaulted your tight, little cunt. There was a familiar coil in your stomach, and then the familiar squelching sound.

“I-I’m s-” you squealed loudly, high-pitched and frantic. “I-I’m coming, ‘m c-coming, daddy, ple-”

Aaron grunted and plunged his cock on a particularly deep thrust, feeling the tip nestle at the sweet bundle of sensitive nerves that made you roll your eyes. You felt Aaron’s cock slide out of your used pussy, a gush of clear release dampening Aaron’s belly and the floor below.

“F-fuck! Look at that��”

“Oh- oh my go-” you bit your lower lip in overstimulation, yet you didn’t do anything to protest when he thrust his thick cock inside again. “Too much… t-too much, sen-sensitive. D-daddy! P-please, no more!”

His cock slid out the second time you squirted. Another gush of release dampened the carpet below. The force was too overwhelming your knees buckled, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You heard Aaron’s pleasured grunt as you clenched even tighter around his cock, your velvety walls hugging his girth like it was molded to be there.

“S-stop, d-daddy! S-stop…”

He scarcely heard you. You could feel every inch of him, the way his body moves against yours, the heat of his skin, the sweat, the strength in his hands as they explore every part of you. He groped you like you were nothing but a fucktoy— one that he will discard the moment he finally got his release.

“See this, little girl?” he grabbed your neck and forced you to look at your belly. You whined at the faint sight of his cock bulging against your skin. “That’s h-how deep I am, you feel that? That’s how well you take me. G-good girl, baby.”

You nodded. “S-so deep, d-daddy. You make me feel s-so good…”

“I’m so close…” you heard him whisper.

You traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension beneath his skin as his breath hitched against your neck. With the rest of your energy left, you lifted yourself and met his desperate thrust. The sound was lewd, disgusting– so wet and filthy.

The world outside disappeared—there was no sound, no movement, no thoughts. Just Aaron. Just him and his big, girthy cock, and his desperate thrust. Beyond the heat of his body against yours, the endless ropes of warm cum flooded your fertile womb. You only closed your eyes and let him take you. Take everything he wants from you.

“It’s coming out of your pretty cunt, baby. Look, you’re so full of my cum…” Aaron said in awe a moment later. He got you lying on your back on the couch, your legs wide open, while he knelt in front of you. He prodded your puffy folds with wide, hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re so messy, angel.”

He licked the cum that dripped out of you. Your cunt felt raw and sore. Too used. So you whimpered as a protest. You’re too sensitive. Too sated. Too much. Too much. Too much–

Aaron smiled smugly when he saw the drunk look on your face.

“Give me one more, angel?”

Happy 600-something, everyone! I know this is long overdue but it's better late than later, right? Anyway, hope everyone's well and healthy (I'm sick right now so don't be like me!) Drink a lot of water and eat well. As always, I appreciate every like, replies, reblogs- everything. Thank you so much for the support. I love you all. See you on the next ones! xx

Tag list: @downbad4reid, @roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl, @zaddyhotch, @fandom-garbage, @obsessed-oops, @ujws5, @babybluelrh98, @seraphinlover, @reidsflwr, @cattt777, @fishsticksarenice-blog, @velvetinkbym

[fangswbenefits]

Revelations

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Miguel asked you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings! Just a humorous drunk!reader drabble :)

“How much did she have to drink?”

“Maybe three beers?”

“Oh, she’s out of it.”

“How so?”

“She’s been tellin’ everyone she has a boyfriend.”

Jessica Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “Who?”

Hobie merely shrugged.

You threw them a death glare before trying to negotiate with Peter Parker for another bottle, but all to no avail.

“Please! Give me another one,” you whined, sitting down with a thump on the chair oposite to his. “I’m not drunk!”

“How many fingers am I holding up, then?”

You shove his hand away. “Seven… don’t be silly!”

He banged his hand on the table. “See? You have zero tolerance.”

“You have seven fingers on that hand, Jerry!”

“Who’s Jerry?”

You gasped loudly at the sight of Gwen sitting to your right. “When did you get here?”

“What? I was here the whole time.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Gwen, take a good look at her,” he mustered a serious voice. “You don’t want this to happen when you grow up.”

You leant back in your seat with a sigh of frustration. “I want Miguel.”

“Miguel… O’Hara?”

“Gwen, she’s drunk,” you heard Peter whispering.

“Hey! What did we miss?”

Miles and Pavitr nade their way through the busy crowd of fellow spiders, each holding a glass of apple juice.

“Took you some time!” Peter beamed with a wife smile, scooting to the side so they could join the group at the table. “Nice job, kids. The mission was a success.”

“Miguel seemed unimpressed,” Miles grumbled into the heel of his hand.

Peter hid a bottle away before you could snatch it from him, earning a grunt. “I’m sure he’s delighted!”

“Yeah? That’s his delighted face? Looked like someone had just threatened to break canon.”

Pavitr patted his back. “That’s just his regular face, Miles.”

“But he’s really hot…” you said dreamily with an ear-to-ear smile, leaning into Hobie’s shoulder.

Multiple pairs of eyes blinked at you.

Pavitr spoke first. “Miguel?”

Both Miles and Gwen were looking at you like you’d grown a third arm.

“Maybe we should get him here?” You heard Jess saying from behind you. “And you,” her hands gripped both your shoulders to straighten you up in your seat. “You need to sober up.”

You stuck out your tongue as the other spider-woman brought her travel watch to eye-level.

“Lyla, I’m guessing Miguel doesn’t want to come, but—”

The AI cut Jess off with a cheeky smile. “He’s on his way, actually.”

“Miguel is coming?” Peter beamed, unable to contain his excitement.

“Great!” You clapped your hands a couple of times, eager to see him.

Hobie took a sip of his drink. “Bet he’s gonna ruin the vibe.”

Miles nodded right away.

You were about to protest when a chorus of greetings from diverse spiders echoed throughout the bar.

“Evening, boss.”

“Miguel! Great to see you here tonight.”

“Howdy, boss.”

“Meow!”

He was here and once he came into your field of vision — albeit slightly blurred — you felt your heart flutter.

“Look who decided to come out of his cave,” Jess said, her lips quirking up into a smile.

“Miguel!” Peter punched his bicep playfully.

You were waving your hands enthusiastically at him. “Hiiiiii!”

But Miguel wasn’t amused.

His eyes roamed across the table.

“Who brought the beer?”

Everyone immediately pointed at Peter — you included — who was already smiling sheepishly while raising both hands in defense.

“Miguel, we’re just celebrating a successful mission and—”

“Peter, how many times must I tell you not to bring that stuff here?”

“She only had a couple of beers,” Peter replied. “It’s not that strong. I don’t thin—”

“That’s your problem! You never think,” he replied, jabbing a finger at bim.

You giggled. Miguel looked extra hot when he was pissed off. Poor Peter, though.

“Up you go,” Hobie said, hoisting you from your seat, trying his best to keep your balance. “Mind your feet.”

“Wait where are we going?”

“You need to get some fresh air,” he said, helping your arm around his neck for support. “Mr. Grumpy here is about to ruin the mood, I reckon.”

You didn’t want to leave, but figured Hobie was right. He was always right.

“Where are you going?” You heard a voice call out once you’d turned your back.

You twirled on your feet nearly tripping and knocking Hobie down in the process.

“Wait… why are there two of you?” You hiccuped.

Both Miguels arched an eyebrow simultaneously. Impeccable synchronisation. “Two of… what?”

You reached out with your hand to touch one of them but it met with nothing but air.

Huh?

“We were goin’ out for some air.”

You shook your head and the two spider-man 2099 had finally merged into one.

You fluttered your eyelashes dramatically at him. “The just one last beer… pleeeeease…”

“I really can’t do that.”

“But you can do me!” you blurted out with a wink.

Miguel pursed his lips.

Chaos immediately erupted from the bar table, causing some of the spiders nearby to shift their attention to the commotion.

“Language! There’s kids here!” Peter said, trying to cover Gwen’s ears.

“We are not kids!”

Jessica clicked her tongue. “No more drinks for you, young lady.”

“—you are still kids at heart!” Peter was now dealing three very grumpy young spiders.

Hobie, however, saluted you with a proud smile on his face. “You just left Miguel O’Hara speechless. Respect.”

You giggled at Miguel who was definitely not amused. At all.

Before your brain could process what was happening, your body was being hauled from the ground and tossed over someone’s shoulder.

“Time to go home.”

“PUT ME DOWN!” you protested, balling your fists and smashing them against a very hardened surface. “MY BOYFRIEND IS GOING TO DEAL WITH YOU!”

You felt your stomach lurch violently from the motion and decided to tap your webshooters in an attention to free yourself.

The result was…

“HEY! Get-get this off me!”

“I’m sorry, Pavitr!”

Your blob of web had landed on his face, sending the young spider into a frenzy as both Miles and Gwen hurried to aid him.

“Who’s the bloke, hm?” Hobie asked with a grin.

“It’s classified!”

The spider-punk scoffed. “Is that code word for ‘capitalist knobhead’?”

“Funny, ‘cause when I first met Miguel he—” Gwen started.

But was promptly cut off. “Lyla, deactive her webshooters before someone loses an eye.”

“On it, boss!”

You growled in annoyance as an orange beam hit your wrists, rendering the devices uselss. It didn’t take long before you were being dragged out of the bar, multiple spiders glaring you and whispering to each other.

“We can take her home,” Jessica offered, patting the top of your head endearingly. “It’s close by.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Hobie seemed visibly amused. “Maybe we should wait for her boyfriend to get here.”

The big man carrying you halted his steps.

“What?”

You blinked a few times as you saw the pavement start to tilt and go into a swirl. “I’m going to fall!”

A strong arm came to wrap around your waist, keeping your firmly in place.

That was close.

“Yeah she’s been sayin’ her boyfriend’s gonna be here,” Hobie shrugged.

“She’s had too much to drink,” Peter said dismissively.

“And he is!” you snapped. “See, he’s very strong, Jerry.”

“Really?”

“He’s the strongest spider-man,” you smiled, pride evident in your voice. “Very handsome…”

The spiders in front of you exhanged confused looks and as the motion resumed, your insides flipped momentarily.

“He’s really big, too…”

Jess spoke this time. “Big? As in… tall?”

You nodded. “Right! But also… his dic—”

“Enough!”

“Bloody hell…”

“Woah!” Jess gasped.

Miles, Pavitr, and Gwen, on the other hand, were having the time of their lives.

“Miguel’s face!” Gwen chuckled as Miles leaned on her shoulder fighting back the tears.

Oh. Right.

Miguel was the one carrying you…

Peter was absolutely scandalised, urging them back inside. “Let’s finish our apple juice,” Peter called, ruffling Pavitr’s hair. “I have these amazing photos of Mayday to show!”

None of the budged, though, enjoying the show.

“Real shame your boyfriend isn’t here to witness this,” Hobie said.

You grinned. “But he is! Right here!” you accentuated each word with a pat between Miguel’s shoulderblades.

“Ah, knew she was talking gibberish,” Hobie clicked his tongue.

Jess came to take a look at Miguel’s face. “I… don’t think she is.”

“Well! What a fun night,” Peter said in his usual cheerful voice.

“Wait… WHAT?!” Gwen and Pavitr half-yelled in unison.

Miguel let out growl. “Go back inside. We’ll talk about the next mission tomorrow.”

“But—”

He turned to face them, which had you clamp one hand on your mouth from the turbulence.

All three of them rushed back inside with Peter following closely behind.

“No wonder you showed up for once,” Jess said adjusting her glasses.

“Please… don’t start,” Miguel sighed. “Especially you.”

Hobie adjusted a couple of pins on his vest. “Chill, bro.”

“Say bye-bye,” Miguel said, tapping the back of your thighs.

You waved your hand clumsily at them. “Byeeee!”

Both of them returned the gesture, chuckling.

In no time, you felt yourself being hurled into the night sky across the tall buildings that covered the landscape of Nueva York.

The cool air and silence allowed the realisation to suddenly dawn on you as Miguel carried you effortlessly with each swing of his web, red glow flashing around you.

Fuck…

“They all know, don’t they…” you mumbled into his embrace when he made a quick stop at a rooftop.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, Miguel…” you hiccuped.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”

You curled up against him, cheek resting on his shoulder as he heaved a deep sigh and ran one hand along your back in a loving caress.

He had wanted it to be a secret mostly because he feared others might see it as a liability. After all, as long as he put up a front that he had nothing to lose, then it would be a great asset to have in this line of work.

Or so he thought.

Feeling the pounding headache brewing inside your head, you merely groaned into the crook of his neck.

Masterlist

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Books Challenged in Florida Schools and Libraries

There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.

Gender Queer: A Memoir, Maia Kobabe: Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears.

The Color Purple, Alice Walker: Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance and silence. Through a series of letters spanning nearly thirty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery and Sofia and their experience. The Color Purple broke the silence around domestic and sexual abuse, narrating the lives of women through their pain and struggle, companionship and growth, resilience and bravery.

Julián Is a Mermaid, Jessica Love: While riding the subway home from the pool with his abuela one day, Julián notices three women spectacularly dressed up. Their hair billows in brilliant hues, their dresses end in fishtails, and their joy fills the train car. When Julián gets home, daydreaming of the magic he's seen, all he can think about is dressing up just like the ladies in his own fabulous mermaid costume: a butter-yellow curtain for his tail, the fronds of a potted fern for his headdress. But what will Abuela think about the mess he makes -- and even more importantly, what will she think about how Julián sees himself? Mesmerizing and full of heart, Jessica Love's author-illustrator debut is a jubilant picture of self-love and a radiant celebration of individuality.

Drama: A Graphic Novel, Raina Telgemeier: Callie loves theater. And while she would totally try out for her middle school's production of Moon over Mississippi, she can't really sing. Instead she's the set designer for the drama department's stage crew, and this year she's determined to create a set worthy of Broadway on a middle-school budget. But how can she, when she doesn't know much about carpentry, ticket sales are down, and the crew members are having trouble working together? Not to mention the onstage AND offstage drama that occurs once the actors are chosen. And when two cute brothers enter the picture, things get even crazier!

Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas: Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.

I Am Billie Jean King, Brad Meltzer: This friendly, fun biography series focuses on the traits that made our heroes great--the traits that kids can aspire to in order to live heroically themselves. Each book tells the story of one of America's icons in a lively, conversational way that works well for the youngest nonfiction readers and that always includes the hero's childhood influences. At the back are an excellent timeline and photos. This volume features Billie Jean King, the world champion tennis player who fought successfully for women's rights. From a young age, Billie Jean King loved sports--especially tennis! But as she got older, she realized that plenty of people, even respected male athletes, didn't take women athletes seriously. She set to prove them wrong and show girls everywhere that sports are for everyone, regardless of gender.

This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki: Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. One of the local teens - just a couple of years older than Rose and Windy - is caught up in something bad... Something life threatening. It's a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

Marriage of a Thousand Lies, Sj Sindu: Lucky and her husband, Krishna, are gay. They present an illusion of marital bliss to their conservative Sri Lankan-American families, while each dates on the side. It's not ideal, but for Lucky, it seems to be working. She goes out dancing, she drinks a bit, she makes ends meet by doing digital art on commission. But when Lucky's grandmother has a nasty fall, Lucky returns to her childhood home and unexpectedly reconnects with her former best friend and first lover, Nisha, who is preparing for her own arranged wedding with a man she's never met.

And Tango Makes Three, Peter Parnell: At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.

More Happy Than Not, Adam Silvera: In the months following his father's suicide, sixteen-year-old Aaron Soto can't seem to find happiness again, despite the support of his girlfriend, Genevieve, and his overworked mom. Grief and the smile-shaped scar on his wrist won't let him forget the pain. But when Aaron meets Thomas, a new kid in the neighborhood, something starts to shift inside him. Aaron can't deny his unexpected feelings for Thomas despite the tensions their friendship has created with Genevieve and his tight-knit crew. Since Aaron can't stay away from Thomas or turn off his newfound happiness, he considers taking drastic actions. The Leteo Institute's revolutionary memory-altering procedure will straighten him out, even if it means forgetting who he truly is.

Melissa, Alex Gino: When people look at Melissa, they think they see a boy named George. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.

Melissa thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part... because she's a boy.

With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.

A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities, Mady G, Jules Zuckerberg: In this quick and easy guide to queer and trans identities, cartoonists Mady G and Jules Zuckerberg guide you through the basics of the LGBT+ world! Covering essential topics like sexuality, gender identity, coming out, and navigating relationships, this guide explains the spectrum of human experience through informative comics, interviews, worksheets, and imaginative examples. A great starting point for anyone curious about queer and trans life, and helpful for those already on their own journeys!

This Book Is Gay, Juno Dawson: This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it's like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations.

Little & Lion, Brandy Colbert: When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she's isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (as well as her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.

King and the Dragonflies, Kacen Callender: Twelve-year-old Kingston James is sure his brother Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. When Khalid unexpectedly passed away, he shed what was his first skin for another to live down by the bayou in their small Louisiana town. Khalid still visits in dreams, and King must keep these secrets to himself as he watches grief transform his family.

It would be easier if King could talk with his best friend, Sandy Sanders. But just days before he died, Khalid told King to end their friendship, after overhearing a secret about Sandy-that he thinks he might be gay. "You don't want anyone to think you're gay too, do you?"

Sorted: Growing Up, Coming Out, and Finding My Place: A Transgender Memoir, Jackson Bird: An unflinching and endearing memoir from LGBTQ+ advocate Jackson Bird about how he finally sorted things out and came out as a transgender man.When Jackson Bird was twenty-five, he came out as transgender to his friends, family, and anyone in the world with an internet connection. Assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, he often wondered if he should have been born a boy. Jackson didn't share this thought with anyone because he didn't think he could share it with anyone.

The Black Flamingo, Dean Atta: Michael is a mixed-race gay teen growing up in London. All his life, he's navigated what it means to be Greek-Cypriot and Jamaican--but never quite feeling Greek or Black enough.

As he gets older, Michael's coming out is only the start of learning who he is and where he fits in. When he discovers the Drag Society, he finally finds where he belongs--and the Black Flamingo is born

Explore the full list here.

[xetlynn]

Until Dawn- By Your Side: Chapter Two, Promise

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

[One] [Two] [Three]

“I hope this was the right thing to do.” Sam quietly says, it seemed like it was supposed to be to herself. Chris and I give her a confused expression. “What?” He questions.

“You know, getting everyone together on the anniversary.” She explains further. “I mean Josh seemed really pumped about us all doing something didn’t he.” She starts but it was more of a question in the back of her mind. I just look at her with the same expression I’ve held. “Yeah, no, he definitely did.” Chris assures her. “I haven’t seen him so excited about something in… forever.” He continues, Sam looks at me to see if that’s true and I nod my head. “Good, good.”

“It’s hard to tell with him, and I’ve kinda been worried. Only hearing updates through [Name] or you.” Sam tells the blond as I notice her avoiding eye contact with me. I mean she has every right to feel worried about him but why is she acting sort of weird with me right now. “No, no, it was a good idea.” He tells her.

“I hope everybody else feels the same way.” She whispers. “we’re here aren’t we?” I add in, leaning back. “Well thanks bros, good talk.” She playfully punches both of us. “You know what? Let’s just stop talking about what happened and enjoy the trip.” Chris suddenly tells us. “You know what? You’re right.” Sam sighs.

“You know how Josh and I met?” He switches the subject and I smile, remembering it’s because of me that we all met. “No…?”

“Ok, [Name] became my friend in second grade. Neither of us remember how or when that happened but suddenly we were just friends. In third grade Josh sat in the back of the room, I sat in the front and [Name] was also in the back with Josh. She instantly talked with him and they became friends but somehow Josh and I never knew each other existed. But the kid sitting on the other side of him started strap snapping the training bra on the girl in front of him so the teacher made him move to the front- where I was sitting.” He smiles, and I lean back, listening even though I lived through it. It’s nice to hear. “Okay, so?” Sam asks.

“So I got moved to the back!” He exclaims. “And?”

“And next to Josh, that’s how we met! And us three became friends. To this day. Well [Name] and Josh a bit more than friends now.” He chuckles, pushing me closer to Sam and I roll my eyes, shoving him back. “A match made in heaven.” Sam smirks, “Josh and Chris definitely are.” I say, laughing. Chris scoffs.

“If it weren’t for the fact that Jeanie Simmonds hit puberty like three years early and on that day decided to wear a low cut shirt that showed off her training bra. I mean who knows? You could be riding in this cable car alone or with just [Name].” He pulls out a hypothetical and I shake my head. “Right now. Or talking to some other person or persons entirely. Boom: Butterfly effect.” He does a mic drop motion with his hand. “You’re so dramatic, Chris.” I sigh.

The cable car gets to our destination and we climb out. We try to open the door but it doesn’t budge. It had been a couple minutes of trying to get the stupid thing to open. “Jessica, over here!” Sam suddenly calls and I stay in the back after hearing my sister’s name. We were supposed to come here together but after I found out she’s going after Mike, we had a huge argument and I want nothing to do with her. “Uh… are you guys having a really weird stroke?” Jess asks them.

“We’re stuck in this stupid thing.” Chris answers her. “Can you please let us out? Pretty please?” Sam asks.

“Jess, don’t play a dumb prank either, just hurry up.” I tell her, annoyed. She ignores me and presses the button, letting us out. “Oh, my God. I thought we were goners. Another ten minutes in there and I would have chewed off my own leg.” Chris exasperates. “Aw, sick, Chris.” Sam mutters. “Like I said before, you’re dramatic.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Look I got a lot of meat on my bones. This is all muscle down here.” He explains and I just walk away from them. I hear them talk about Jessica having a crush on Mike. Jessica telling them about how she’s with him.

I take my phone out and text my boyfriend. Wondering if he’s got everything set up. I don’t get a response though.

I walk behind everyone as we make our way up to the lodge until I find my way back to Chris and Sam who’s weirdly being quiet. “Chugger gonna make her big come back this weekend?” He asks me and I glare up at him. “Again with this?” I groan, both of us stop walking and I place my hands on my hips as I stand in front of him. “I’m just saying Josh found her pretty hot.” He puts his hands up defensively.

“Chris, we’re 20 years old now, Chugger no longer exists. Plus Josh still finds me hot. Obviously because we’re dating.” I scrunch my nose, irritated on this being a conversation once again. He goes to say something but has a smirk tied to his lips, I glance to Sam who was looking behind me.

Suddenly arms wrap around my waist and I’m lifted up into the air. I let out a squeal, kicking my feet. “Woah!” I get placed back on the ground and then spun around.

“Hello, my beautiful darling.” It was Josh, he pulls me into his arms and I hear him sniff my hair. I let out a laugh. “Hi, my love.” I look up and he kiss my lips. “Where have you been?” I ask him.

“Oh you know, around. Setting everything up. Or at least trying to.” He frowns. “Hm, I tried texting you.” I pull away from him.

“Sorry, haven’t really been on it much with all the running around.” He rubs the back of his head. I stare at him, my face scrunched with confusion. He’s acting weird. He gives me a wink and I roll my eyes.

We get to the stairs of the lodge.

“Man I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it.” Chris complains, he keeps walking behind me and kicking the heel of my shoe. “Oh yeah? Feels the same to me.” Josh says, grabbing my hand. “Oh come on, you grew up here. It probably feels like it’s shrinking.” Chris huffs.

“I guess that’s true.” Josh smiles, squeezing my hand. “When are you gonna install some cell towers up here? I’m getting withdrawals already.” The blond criticizes the mountain, lifting his phone in the air to try to get some sort of service.

“You got a spare million lying around and I’ll fix you right up.” Josh jokes, chuckling to himself and I smile. “Funny you should say that…” He checks his pockets as we start walking once again. “Ah I think I left it in my other jacket.” Chris points back. “Oops.” Josh shrugs. “Darn, that sucks.” I snap my fingers.

“Hey guys… Get up here okay?” Josh questions the rest of the group ahead of us.

“Yeah… well, more or less. But it’s so good to see you!” Ashley smiles to my boyfriend and then makes eye contact with me, giving a big grin. I’ve always loved Ashley. She’s a sweetheart. I’m iffy about her after the prank but Josh keeps telling me the twins would’ve wanted me to forgive them. It feels like I should be telling him that. In the beginning his anger was strong…

“Sup with him?” Josh motions to an upset looking Matt. Matt just looks away, I let out a breath. “Let’s just get inside.” I whisper, tugging Josh to come up the stairs.

“Yo yo yo! Are we gonna get things moving up here or what?” Chris asks Josh. “Yeah man!” He smiles.

He grips my hand once again and I look up at him. Wondering why he keeps doing that. “Hey… you doin’ alright?” Our friend gets serious, my eyes soften and lean closer into my boyfriend. Wanting to know the same thing even though I’m with him so much. His mind can go everywhere sometimes. “I mean I know it must be really tough without your sis-“

“Stop.” Josh warns him, letting go of my hand. “I just meant that-“

“No I know what you meant. You know seriously I’m over it and I just want us to have a good time, you know? Like we always used to.” Josh turns away from us and I frown, I know he’s not okay. I don’t know why he said he’s over it. He doesn’t have to be over it.

Chris nods his head though, “Right, Chugger could come out like she used to. But she won’t budge through this facade.” Chris pokes my side.

“Shut up about the Chugger thing already.” I throw my head back, jokingly gripping my head. “If my lady says no Chugger, that means no Chugger, sir.” Josh points a finger in our best friend’s face with a smile. Turning back around to try and open the door. “Dammit, this freaking thing.” He curses.

“It’s iced?” I ask. “What else.”

“Maybe there’s another way in.” Chris suggests. “There are a million ways in. They’re just all locked.” Josh continues to try with the door. “There’s gotta be, like, a window round the corner we can get like, get open or something.” Chris tells my boyfriend who stands up straighter at his idea.

“Wait a second, are you saying we should break in?” He questions Chris. “I don’t think it’s technically breaking in if you own the place, right?” Chris laughs.

“Hey, not if I don’t report you.” Josh jokes, making our friend nervous. “Lead the way, Cochise!” He motions him to go back down the stairs.

Once we get down Chris talks to Ashley. Josh and I watching the scene, his hand finds his way back to mine and I feel a kiss on my jawline. “I missed you.” He whispers in my ear and I smile. “I saw you three days ago.” I keeps my eyes looking ahead of me. “Three days too long.” He pulls me closer to him, kissing my neck making me laugh because it tickles.

“All right, all right, love birds. Keep it moving!” Chris orders us, shooing at us like we were cattle or a flock of birds. Instead of arguing we move it. Wanting to get inside. “Ashley was looking pretty hot today, right?” I teasingly ask the blond.

“Yeah if you don’t hit I’m sure Mike will get on that case.” Josh tells him, I pinch his hand, thinking that was a little too far. “Hey, cut it out you two.” Chris shakes his head but doesn’t lock eye contact with us. “Re-laaax I’m just checkin’ to see if there’s some blood flowin’ down there.” Josh laughs. “Tsk yeah…”

“Listen dude. Look around you. Look at these beautiful mountains. Do you see any parents?” Josh even takes a glance around him as he instructed our friend to do the same. “I mean can you imagine a more perfect, ripe scenario, just dripping with erotic possibilities? You, and Ashley, alone at last…” Josh makes up a hypothetical and I can see how these two are best friends. “You’ve laid all the groundwork… you’ve been a perfect gentleman. Now you come in for the kill!” Josh dramatically tells him. I let out a sigh at this awful conversation.

“Maybe you’re right.” Chris smiles.

“You’re a hunter bro. No fear. No mercy. I mean she won’t even know what hit her.” We walk around him and start back up to get to another way inside the lodge. “Alright, alright. I got it. Jeez.”

“You’re gross, Joshua.” I gently push him, he snickers pushing my back but we’re still holding hands. “You know I’m only messing.” He stops us to kiss me on the lips before continuing again.

“So how are we planning on breaking in to my parents lodge, bud?” Josh asks Chris. “Wait, I didn’t say I had a plan-“

“You sounded like you had a plan.” I chime in, Josh hums, agreeing with me. “You better deliver, Cochise, or else you got five lovely ladies who are gonna be freezing their bus off and last time I checked, that’s not a good way to get laid.” Josh tells him, playfully squeezing my hand and I scoff.

“All you think about is your penis.” I mumble. “Mm, maybe.” He whispers back to me. “well shoot, nobody likes cool buns.” Chris says.

Chris walks over to where an emergency axe should be but he lets out a disappointing sounding “oh.” Then he goes over to a cupboard? “Well well well. We got ourselves a thinker. Nice one.” Josh pats the thing, letting go of my hand. They push it over to the closest window. I watch them do the work.

“Who’s gonna get in there first?” Chris jokingly asks us. I shrug my shoulders. “if you want, I can do it.” I offer but Josh immediately pulls me back shaking his head in disagreement. “No, no, let Chris go.” He tells me, I look to Chris who waves it off. Climbing on the thing.

He lifts the window open and climbs inside the building. We hear a thud and him groan afterwards. I wince. “C’mon.” Josh lifts himself up and then helps me beside him but there’s barely any room. “Ugh, I’m okay!” Chris moans. “I should’ve pain more attention in climbing class…” He talks to himself. “You mean gym?” Josh furrows his brows as I laugh.

“Yeah, you know, with the climbing up the rope.” He stands up from the ground and then the light in the room shatters. “whoa.” Josh steps back, I almost slip but I catch myself. “Did I do that?” Chris asks.

“I don’t… I don’t think so. Here, use this.” Josh throws him a lighter. “Whoa- Chris, I just got an awesome idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Totally!”

“Well what is it?” Chris asks, looking up to us. “Okay. So I am pretty sure that I’ve got some deodorant in one of the bathrooms… you could use that with the lighter.” Josh tells him. “I don’t follow. How’s a stick of deodorant gonna help?”

“Spray on. It’s a can.” Josh corrects him. “Ohhh yeah, now I gotcha. “Flamethrower.”

“Just like we do with the lil army dudes.” Chris excitedly remembers and I wince at the memory. The smell of the plastic burning in my nose. “Yup. The ones we melted. Just point the spray-can at the lighter and Fwoosh!” Josh flings his arms up, almost knocking me before he grabbed onto my waist quickly. “Bye-bye frozen lock.” Chris chuckles. “Bingo.” Josh looks to the side. “Alright, so you got this. I’m gonna go sort something out- you up for hunting around in the dark for a little bit?” He asks Chris, I’m confused on what he has to sort out.

“Nope. But I’ll do it.” The blond shrugs. “Godspeed pil’grim.” Josh salutes to him before jumping down and then motioning for me to get on his back. “In the snow?” I nervously ask.

“Yes, I got you.” He says. “I… okay.” I slowly get onto his back and I feel his hands grip my thighs immediately. He makes his way back to the front of the lodge. Sam and Ashley were still sitting there. “I gotta go do something, I’ll be back.” He pats my thigh and I jump down.

“Joshua, where are you going?” I ask him in a quiet tone, we were a few feet away from the stairs still. “Just a sorting out a surprise for everyone.” He doesn’t look me in the eye and I fold my arms across my chest. “You’re acting strange, love.” I tell him.

“I’ll tell you later, I promise.” He puts his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. “You promise?” I raise my brows, he smiles. “Of course.” He gives me a long kiss before letting me go.

I go over to Ashley and Sam who are huddled up together. “Where’s Chris?” Ashley asks and I laugh. “He’s in the house, gonna open the door for us.” I inform them, sitting with them.

“Where’d Josh head to?” Sam speaks up and I glance off to the direction he was heading. “Um, I don’t actually know. He told me he would tell me later.” I frown, now feeling myself getting colder. “Weird.” She mumbles.

“Let’s go over to the door so we can get that fire started as soon as possible.” I pat both of them and we stand up. Walking up the stairs to the front door.

Masterlist

J. W. Masterlist

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[ssahotchnerr]

thinking about celebrating jacks bday with aaron🥺

like maybe it’s just a chill year and you guys just go out for dinner and do cake later in the day

or bday party with all his friends and it’s star wars themed

awww yes 🥹 tw food, the haley part makes me want to sob btw

jack's birthday happens to fall on a weekday, so he has school, both you and aaron have work.

so when you wake him up!!! hehe you shower him with sooo much love and make sure his morning is off to the bestest start. both you and aaron tease him a bit too 🤭 - asking why and how is he growing up so fast and to please stop so he can be your little jack forever (and jack pinky promises he always will be 😭😭😭)

instead of the usual oatmeal or cereal for breakfast, aaron got jack's favorite doughnuts 🥹 and hehe you even put a birthday candle on one so you can sing happy birthday to him before he's off to school. and if there's time, jack gets to open one present to tie him over for the day 🥰

you also pack jack's lunch with some fun surprises too <33 maybe instead of a sandwich, he gets a lunchable which is a somewhat rare occurrence and he is THRILLED to find it at lunchtime. also!! you baked brownies for jack's class so they can all celebrate him, but you put an extra brownie in his lunch to spoil him just a lil more

and after school <333 you lounge around with jack until aaron gets home 🥹 since it was his birthday, he has a no homework pass from his teacher 🫶🏻 so you hear all about his fun day, watch his favorite movie, play with the gift he got that morning (legos), and hehe jack is sooooo impatient for aaron to get home to begin all the birthday festivities; he just keeps asking you "whennn is dad gonna get home🥺"

and when he (finally) does 🥰🥰🥰 jack opens the rest of his presents, the three of you go to his favorite restaurant (or order it to go to enjoy in the comfort of home, whatever jack's feeling), and finish the day off with birthday cake of course <333 and if jessica is available!!! she joins as well 🫶🏻

and 🥺 at bedtime, the three of you snuggle up closely in jack's bed, and aaron get's jack's 'haley candle' for him to talk to her - this is a must on his birthday. jack tells her about his day, his favorite things he's done the past year, and anything he wants to do the next 🥺 (and while jack doesn't express any sadness per se - he's just talking to haley so easily and naturally - you peek over at aaron and see him very quickly swipe away a tear☹️☹️☹️☹️ you stretch your arm out behind jack to give aaron's shoulder a comforting squeeze 🥺) (wait i wanna write a blurb about this) once the candle is extinguished, jack get's his goodnight forehead kisses, and both you and aaron tell him how much you love him, and how much he is loved, and wish him happy birthday just one more time 🥹

and over the weekend!!! jack's two birthday parties 🥳 one with all his friends, at some bounce-house place or something of the sorts. (pls aaron just in complete dad mode😭 wearing a tshirt and dad jeans, standing there with arms crossed 🤨 as he supervises the kids and assists you as needed <3333) AND one with the bau family of course 🥰🥰🥰

[exhaslo]

Since Puzzle Pieces is a favorite piece of mine from your writing could you dk like a mini side story about reader and mafia!miguel raising a family together especially with reader navigating finding herself

MORE SIDE CONTENT!!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOO

Warning: Minors DNI, some smut, mentions of sex, mentions of murder, mentions of bullying

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

"Mama, mama, mama! Wanna play at park, please, please, please?!"

Unable to resist the adorable look your oldest son was giving you, you caved.

"Alright, sweetie. Why don't you pick out an outfit while I call daddy to let him know, okay?"

You smiled brightly as the toddler cheered before running off to his room. It has been a few years into your relationship with Miguel and you couldn't be happier. The two of you had three beautiful children...and counting according to Miguel.

Your oldest son, Gabriel, was four; the second child, Gabriella, was two; and the last child, Kron, was only a few months old.

Humming lowly as you took your two youngest children to your room, you placed them on the bed before calling Miguel. Ever since your children were born, Miguel took extra caution whenever you would go out.

It was thanks to an incident when you and Lyla went out for some clothes shopping when Gabriel was about five months old. One of the other mafia families had the nerves to kidnap the three of you for ransom. Miguel did not take it lightly and ended up killing that new form mafia family.

"Hey, Miggy, I'm taking the kids to the park. Little Gabriel was just too cute to say no too," You said with a giggle.

"Aye, mi amor (my love), you must show some restraint with him."

"I know, I know."

"I'll send some men over. How are you doing today?" Miguel asked, wanting to make sure his wife was in good health.

"I'm okay, Migs-"

"AHHHHH PLEASE!"

"Are you okay? Another mafia group bothering you?" You asked after hearing the screams in the background. Miguel just chuckled softly,

"Not reason a bother, more like an insect. But don't worry, mi amor, they will be squashed in a moment. After I'm done here, I should be able to go home early."

"Maybe you could join us at the park, hehe," You said with a smile as you finished changing Gabriella.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, Gabi, your daddy might join us~"

"Now I have to finish early. I'll see you soon."

With that, Miguel hung up. You continued to change your youngest before laughing at how Gabriel dressed. Once finished, you had to fix your oldest clothing. With the three finally ready to go, you waited for Migue's men to appear.

You loved Miguel. He was still ever so kind and gentle with you. Your stuttering had calmed down with his help, although, you do get the occasional nerves, especially with new people. If anything, your children were the biggest reason for you to try and get better.

You wanted them to look up to you. Miguel was not only a powerful mafia boss, which the kids won't know about, but also one of the world's most powerful CEO. Compared to Miguel, you were just a small little bunny.

The thought made you sorrow. You wanted to do something with your life as well, but what? You've spent a good portion being bullied and ridiculed by both your parents and your ex boyfriend. Hell, if it wasn't for Miguel, you might not be here.

"Mama, the Peters are here!" Gabriel cheered.

Chuckling lowly towards your son's cute group name, you opened the door for the Peters. Jessica was there as well and greeted you and the small children.

"Hey, how's everything going?" You asked, wanting to get your mind off of your failures.

"Good. My kid's causing a ruckus in school every now and then. Wished, he got more of his father than me," She said with a laugh.

"Awe, I don't even want to think about sending Gabriel to school. I'll miss him too much!"

"Girl, with how Miguel is, he'll give you another baby." Jessica said with a wide smirk causing you to blush.

Miguel would.

--------

You were tired. You were sitting on one of the park benches, watching Kron as your other two children played. The Peters were watching the two children like a hawk while Jessica helped you with your youngest. Even with the help, you felt drained from other parents watching you.

It brought you back into your thoughts of what you wanted to do with your life. You had been through so much trauma that you could write a book, but would anyone read it? Would it be too depressing for other people?

"Excuse me, are all these men with you? You're making the other parents feel uncomfortable," A woman spoke while approaching both you and Jessica.

"O-Oh," You flinched, "S-Sorry...um-"

"Her husband worries a lot. They are her and her children's bodyguards, do mind yours." Jessica huffed.

"Well, it's still making everyone uncomfortable!"

You felt your heart sink. You couldn't even stand up for yourself against other parents. What were you going to do when your children went to school?

"My apologies, then perhaps we shall find another park for our children to play at."

Miguel placed his hand against your back, smiling casually towards the irate woman. It was instant that the parents gasped upon realizing who Miguel was. They immediately said it was fine as people tried to approach Miguel.

"And here we go," Miguel said with a heavy sigh. You smiled towards your husband,

"I'm sure the kids played enough for today,"

"DADDY!!!!"

"See?" You giggled as the two children ran towards Miguel.

Miguel laughed as he picked up his children. His loving gaze towards his family made you swell with joy. As long as Miguel supports whatever you want to do, you will be happy. Hell, knowing Miguel, he would make everyone in his mafia to buy your book, puzzle or whatever you do.

"Ready to go home?" Miguel asked his kids. They whined in response, "Mommy and Daddy have important work to do."

You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked at Miguel in protest. Using sex as an excuse for important work was going to get old eventually. You whined in turn as your children agreed to Miguel's ridiculous lie.

--------

"Tell me, (Y/N), what's been on your mind lately?" Miguel asked with a hum as he pressed your body against the bed, his cock reaching the deepest part of your gummy walls.

"M-Miggy, n-no fair," You whined as he held your legs over his shoulders, "I-I can't think...l-like this."

"Sure you can,"

With a thrust of his hips, you gasped and moaned his name. Your body melting against his touch and pussy clenching around his dick. No matter how many times Miguel would fuck you, it still brought you to nirvana each time.

Whimpering as Miguel's thrusts grew faster and rougher, you couldn't hold your voice back. You arched your back, whining and moaning as Miguel slapped against that sweet spot of yours.

"There's my little bunny. Wanna tell me what's wrong, amor?" Miguel whispered in your ear as he pressed you into mating position.

"Mhm~" You wanted to protest, but how could you? "I-I...ah~ I want...t-to do something...mhm~ with my l-life-"

"Amor,"

Miguel whispered softly, pulling you in for a kiss as you confessed. His thrusts were slow and sweet as he held you closely.

"Hah~ Ah~ M-Maybe...I...I could w-write a b-book."

"I'll support whatever you do, (Y/N). Just say the word and it's yours."

"Mhm~"

You wrapped your arms around Miguel as the two of you continued your 'important work'.

--------

Once all of your children were asleep, you sat in the living room, typing away on a laptop Miguel bought for you. Miguel approached you from behind, placing a cup of hot tea on the table. You smiled as he took his spot beside you, kissing your shoulder.

"Have you decided what you want to do?" Miguel asked softly. You rested your head against his,

"Well, I want to write about what I went through. Maybe...it will help other people try and get out of their similar fate....and I want to make learning puzzles for kids."

"Hm, seems like my wife has a busy schedule ahead of her." Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, "Just let me know and I'll help anyway I can."

"Thank you, Miguel." You titled your head and kissed him sweetly, "I love you."

"I love you more,"

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

I hope you enjoyed! Puzzle Pieces is always fun to write! Also, you all might like my new series:

Over-Time

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[rubyvhs]

remedy (ii) — sam winchester

>prev | series masterlist

summary: jessica and gen explore what’s between them by forcing you and sam to do the same —tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, insecure reader.

“You never told me what happened with Sam.” And with good reason too. Jess, she’s your best friend and your roommate, naturally she got worried when you kept avoiding the topic. The topic being: ‘You and Sam spent an awfully long time outside. Alone.”

“Nothing happened. We smoked.”

Her eyes widen and she lets go of her phone. You’re both in your two room apartment, but currently in hers. She’s on the beanbag, you’re on the bed. She’s about to scream. “You what?”

“Yeah.” You say a little reservedly. You trust Jess wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t tell anyone, and it isn’t like it’s a secret even if she does, but she’s very overprotective. As in, she would go give Sam a piece of her mind if you say anything that could piss her off. Again, not like he did anything, but still. You can never be too careful.

“Come on, slut, I want details.”

“Those are the details. We smoked.” Oh fuck it. “And he asked if I’m a sophomore.”

“Why would he ask—” It hits her quickly and her eyes widen with an exaggerated gasp. “No way. Sam freaking Winchester likes you?”

“He doesn’t.”

“I beg to differ. He’s a senior, you know that, right?” You nod, pulling you head down as you play with your fingers in your lap. There’s not much you can do with Sam without him looking at you like a kid. It’s only a five year age difference— hell, your parents are eight years apart, but in university it’s different. He’ll want to feel mature, it’s hard to date someone who— yeah, hasn’t actually done anything. Ever. 

Scratch that, he probably wouldn’t date you if you were twenty. Okay that’s more of your insecurities talking but still.

“C’mon, you so don’t like Sammy. That hair? Are you serious?” 

You suddenly catch her tone and look up with a small laugh, “You’re kidding!” And yeah, you're theory is right, she’s blushing. “You like Sam?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t deny it—”

“I don’t—”

“Lying whore—”

“I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“It’s Gen.” You furrow your eyebrows into a frown and tilt your head. What’s Gen? “I like her. Not Sam.”

“Okay… what does that have to do with—”

“She’s his best friend. She’s into girls but they’re roommates and I used to date Sam so I don’t know what he said about me— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I used to date him.” You get out of your seat at her slightly trembling voice. She says the last sentence like it’s an afterthought, like it’s not supposed to mean much. It fuels your insecurities, but other than that, nothing. “I’ve liked her for a year now but she’s… I’m scared to tell her.” 

“Gen’s hot. You’re hot.” You sit up on the desk so your legs are dangling in front of Jess, she places her hands on your thighs. “Come on, don’t be stupid. I haven’t paid attention but I’m sure she’d feel the same way if you made a move.”

“Maybe,” but she doesn’t think so, you can tell, “I don’t wanna— I mean, I know you haven’t seen her around a lot but she’s cool, okay? Like really cool. And Sam’s like her German Shepherd bodyguard.” That earns a genuine laugh from you and she slowly smiles into it too. She loosens up even as she’s panicking slightly because, seriously? How ridiculous is this?

“‘S okay, Jess. Cool or not, you're cooler. You’re the coolest. No one has anything on you, and don’t even worry about the German Shepherd bodyguard.” 

Famous last words.

Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than comfort your friend. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because if you don’t shut up, you end up on double dates (three days before your final) with a guy who probably hates your guts. 

And it’s all your fault really. Your self control and Jess’s pouty face. God, it’s cruel for her to have such a beautiful weapon. Real shame it doesn’t work on Sam to make him back down— which is why you’re here. On Gen and Jess’s date. With Sam. This isn’t a double date. This is just… torture, in its purest forms. 

“I could be studying right now.” You whine while Jess parks her mustang at the mall entrance. It’s a last-ditch attempt to go back home. 

“You studied enough. I quizzed you on the flashcards three times.”

“But I missed a few the last time.”

“You’ll pass.” 

“Jess, c’mon, does he even know?”

Last ditch attempt turns into a complaining session. It doesn’t work. Doesn’t make you feel better. And definitely doesn’t stop you from stuttering and blushing like a ten year old when you see Sam. 

Gen and Sam meet you at the shooting range where you’re supposed to have your ‘date’. You greet Gen with a hug while Jess does the same for Sam, and when you switch… he’s smiling but you decide to play it safe and put out your hand. He glances at it for a second before extending his and saying a quick ‘hey’. It works out, there isn’t any of that initial awkwardness, and it’s almost like four friends going out. 

You decide to get food first so you end up at a cafe/restaurant type of thing called mince. 

“Why’d you choose here?” It’s the first thing you’ve said that actually sounds like you want to be here and Gen’s smiling as she answers.

“Used to work here last summer, best freakin’ burgers ever!” She’s so bubbly, her shoulder-length brown hair is in loose waves that you just need to ask how she does, her smokey eyeshadow has a hint of glitter on the sides and it’s all very pretty. She’s pretty. You get what Jess is on about.

“And the—” Gen interrupts Sam to shout ‘milkshake’ at the same time he says it which is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. She gets excited about the smallest stuff and is showing it constantly. 

“You used to work here too?” You ask, just because you’re proud you spoke at all.

“No, would annoy Gen to get me half-off meals the whole summer.” Gen rolls her eyes like it’s true which makes the rest of you laugh. 

And it goes on with casual conversation; when are your exams, what are you doing this summer, did you hear about Lily’s new party. It’s mostly like all of your outings until the food comes, then Gen and Jess start to close their conversation in.

Gen and Jess. They should have a joint name. Genevieve and Jessica. Jenica? Jessevieve? Nessica? Maybe you should take a break. But God these burgers really are as delicious as she says. Incredible. All that flavor put in one? Maybe you should work here. 

It seems like your (practically) moans aren’t so quiet because Sam’s amused expression says it all when you look up at him. He’s sitting opposite to you and watching you eat more than he’s touching his own food. “That good?”

You swallow and quickly nod. Yeah it’s that good, what kind of joke is that? It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Best burger, anyway. You take a sip or your cherry cola before he shakes his head, “You’re missing out.”

“What?”

“On the milkshake.” You smile a little and play with your necklace’s charm, something you’ve picked up doing since you stopped smoking regularly (the small wins in life). “Here,” He moves his across the table. With his straw. So first you share a cigarette and now a straw? You may as well kiss at this point, it’s all the same. 

You lean down to try it and— wow. You’ll be personally giving every chef in this place a raise, who cares if you don’t have the right to do that? You will make the right when their food is this flavorful. 

Even a vanilla milkshake feels different— is that cinnamon? 

“Right?” And if your feverish nod wasn’t something to go by, then the fact that you were the first to finish your food says it all. 

After you’ve all eaten till you couldn’t get up (thank God for friends who you can accomplish that with), you walk around, hand linked in Jess on one side with Gen and Sam on her other. You don’t want to make Sam uncomfortable, no matter how nice he acted in the restaurant so you try to stay as far away as you can. Which okay, in retrospect you might look like a toddler holding onto Jess but no one seems to mind.

Until they do. “Me and Gen are gonna look at something, okay?” Jess says, her voice a little low so only you can hear. Jess wouldn’t hate you for refusing, but you can see how much she wants this. You nod and swallow your fears. That would leave you alone with Sam. “Don’t worry, okay? He’s a good guy—”

“‘M not worried. Have fun, baby.” She beams and runs over to where Gen’s standing. Sam is on the phone somewhere so you settle for walking around ‘till you stop at a jewelry store. If anything reminds you of your parents, it’s stores like this. Gold jewelry. Your tradition. Other people would get phones or shoes when they achieved something, you’d get an 18 karat ring— and it’s not to say you’re a multi-millionaire (you definitely aren’t), it’s much much cheaper where you're from. 

You got your first earring when you were two days old from your uncle. A necklace from your grandfather. Three bracelets from your father. All gold. 

“You like it?” Sam’s voice startles you, jumping back, you look at him. He’s looking expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess,” They’re beautiful earrings, matching the ones your mother wears all the time back home. “Reminds me of someone.” 

He nods and when you look up into his eyes he’s quick to blurt out ‘I’m sorry’ like he’s scared he’ll talk himself out of saying it. What does he have to apologize for? You guys didn’t even flirt, it was nothing. 

“It’s okay. I mean— obviously you have nothing to be sorry for anyways.”

“I shouldn’t have done that—”

“What, talking to me?”

“Leaving.” Does the action of breathing include air being sucked out from your lungs forever? Thag Shouldn’t be happening. “It makes it seem like I'm an asshole and you’re cool, didn’t mean to make it look like that. I’d love to be your friend, give me your number?” you hesitate for a moment too long, “if you want, of course. If you want to be friends with a senior.”

He says it like he’s a fifty year old senior resident which forces a laugh out of you and helps you relax a little. “Yeah, of course, I just didn’t want to assume anything, you’ve been nice, Sam, haven’t been rude or anything. It’s just, you looked pretty scared when I mentioned my age.”

He rubs the back of his neck with a small huff, “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

“Okay, yeah, give me your phone,” He opens the contacts app and you easily add your number along with your name. First and last. Who knows how many people he knew had your name? Could be hundreds. Thousands. Millions even. 

“It’s not a bad thing that you got scared— but anyways,” you hand him his phone back, “if it makes you feel any better I’m turning eighteen in a couple of months.” It’s not a total lie, you’re turning in January. It’s May. So if you think about it, it’s a couple of months… multiplied by four. Really only eight months. Same thing.

“It doesn’t,” he snorts and you frown a little. His eyes widen  and he shakes his head, “not in… I meant that there’s nothing to feel bad about anyways. You’re a cool person, I like hanging around you.”

You try to lighten the mood, smiling and waving your hand, “Keep the lies coming.” He laughs a little but you can see he’s about to explain himself again. “It’s fine, Sam. I understand what you mean. I liked hanging out with you too.”

“Yeah?” Flirting, friendly banter, pity— who cares, you’re talking and he’s being all cute while you make your way around a mall that you have no interest being in. 

“Definitely. And I tried blueberry cigarettes for the first time with you.” You say excitedly, and it’s really true. It was thrilling (when compared to your routine of studying, eating and going to the gym everyday) to try cigarettes with flavor— not that it was really prominent, but at least you tried it. “And your car’s amazing. A Mazda, right?”

His eyes seem to twinkle in the way-too bright light, “Got it last year actually.”

“I noticed, ‘s a newer model.”

“Yeah, twenty one.” You're both somehow closer as you walk, your arms brushing against each other in the white short sleeve top you decided to wear and his Zeppelin t-shirt. You’re about to take your phone out (because God knows that that's the only thing you can do when you’re stuck in an awkward situation) before he points at a shop and practically shoves you to come with him. Not that you need a push, you would’ve gone very very willingly. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask when you stop right in front of a dollar store. 

“‘S a tradition me and my brother had— have. We buy fireworks every first of the month.” You feel a light laugh escape you even as you want to pout in confusion. What does that have to do with you? “It helped us save money instead of buying them all at once on the Fourth of July. Still haven’t bought my May ones, we should go in.” It doesn’t take you five seconds of looking into his sparkling eyes to agree. Those eyes. They’re just brown so you can’t say that the color is what captivates you, it’s the way he uses them. So so insanely innocent when you’re sure he isn’t, when he's shown you he isn’t. The fact that he’s still hanging out with you is proof enough.

“It’s the twentieth of may, anyways, why did you wait so long to buy them?” The question is born out of curiosity as you both walk around the different aisles, you examine any piece you find remotely interesting. 

“My brother and I… we don’t talk as much, anymore. Just reminds me of him a lot, I guess.” 

His eyes are trained in front of him so he’s avoiding your gaze and his voice is so soft you’re afraid you might not catch what he says. “Then why are we doing it now?”

“I miss ‘em. My family. Just wanna stop doing this avoidance thing— which is Dean’s thing by the way, not mine— and actually remember them.” He shrugs like his voice isn’t about to crack and his hair isn’t covering his eyes as faces down. You decide to ask a stupid question. A very stupid question.

“Oh, why are you talking about them like they’re gone?” Lesson number two: Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than try and comfort your friend acquaintance. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because you just don’t know them well enough, and it’s inevitable to sound like a total dick. 

“They’re… they’re not. Or actually—” oh please no, if one of them is dead, being a ‘dick’ is the least of your worries. “Mum died when I was six months old but I was talking about my dad and Dean, he’s my older brother. We fought when I got accepted into Stanford, dad didn’t exactly approve.” His mother died? You’re a total bitch is what you are. An abomination at best.

“God, Sam, I’m sorry—” You hurry to push out the most sincere apology of your life but he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You freeze automatically. 

A, there’s a hand on your shoulder. B, it belongs to a guy… from the male species— of men. C, you like Sam and want him to keep touching you.

“Stop, don’t, it’s fine. Mum was a long time ago and dad, guess it’s just the way it is.”

You’d think. You’d believe, that after all of this you would shut up and mind your own business at the very least— but no such luck. You hear yourself asking, “what about Dean?”

“What about him?”

“He's your brother—” It’s as if the universe is on your side because you never get to finish your sentence. A toddler runs over to you to hug your legs so tight you can't move and she’s crying out ‘mama’ too many times for her head not to pound. Yours certainly is. “Hey, hey,” it’s no use, she’s as sure that you’re her mum as you are that Sam is never going to open his mouth around you again.

She starts crying. As if you sold her to the highest bidder and she’s just now finding you again. You would if she keeps holding on and crying like this. 

Sam doesn’t share your same sentiment because he starts cooing at her, leaning down to pick her up. He lifts her in the air and the crying comes to an immediate halt. You love kids, nothing against them— in fact, you cared for your little brother since the second he was born. First to hold him. But right now? When you’re embarrassing yourself to last you a lifetime, your affinity to kids is decreasing ever so slightly. 

“Hey, princess, where’s mommy?” Right here. Is what you want to say, instead you cough a little too obviously, making Sam send a smirk your way. The little girl with two ponytails on each side, she couldn’t be older than five, shakes her head. “You don’t know? Is she here?” He points to you and your eyes widen for only a second before you glare at him. Now that the girl has gotten a better look she shakes her head. The small things you're grateful for. “What’s your name?”

“Rory.” She pouts out but she seems content in Sam’s arm. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder and you’re willing to bet money your heart's beating so fast you might pass out. It’s so heart-warming, he’s so frickin’ good with kids. Why is he so good with kids?

“Okay, Rory, let’s go see where mum is.” He glances at you to make sure you follow him and you make your way to the register. He tells the cashier what’s happening and he announces over the speakers that someone should pick up their child. Sam keeps holding her and glancing at you frequently while he’s playing with her, as if willing you to do something too. 

You won’t. He’s stupid to think you will. It isn’t like you would’ve left her there in the middle of the store if you were alone but you definitely wouldn’t have held up a stranger (even if it’s a child) and then played with her. Bringing her to the lost and found (cashier… whatever) is more than enough.

Her mum picks her up a few minutes after and you’re both checking out with the fireworks in record time, mostly because he grabbed them when you weren’t looking— which really begs the question of how the hell is this man so good at something that sounds illegal? 

Should you be concerned? Yes. Will you be? Probably not. Which is why you keep walking before you ask questions again. It’s bound to happen. It will happen. Exhibit A:

“About your brother, you said you guys don’t talk. Why?”

He doesn’t seem to mind even if it looks like he’s a little sad talking about it. “Oh, it’s nothing. He’s just always traveling and he wasn’t really happy that I went off on my own.”

“That’s a dick move,” you’re a dick, is what he should say to you so you try to save yourself, “I mean that you did a really incredible thing. You got into Stanford on a full scholarship— he should be proud.”

It takes him a second to answer, he’s staring in front of him and it isn’t to avoid your gaze, it’s to come up with a genuine response. And his response is genuine. “He is. Dean’s proud.”

You don’t push it after that, you get a matcha strawberry drink, you both buy some snacks that you don’t open and then Jess calls to see where you are.

“You know,” maybe you don’t want to know. He seems to catch your thought because his smile widens, “this was fun. We should do it again— alone, next time.”  

Is this what being asked out looks like? Should you get Jess to answer for you— maybe you should—

“As in a date, sweetheart. Is that okay?”

If he keeps calling you that then yes.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He says fairly and leans down to kiss your cheek. “Good night.” And then he walks past you to Jess, throwing a quick ‘night Jess’.

“Oh. My. God.” Jess all but sequels next to you as you both walk back to her car.

“You can say that again. I just got my first kiss!” Jess’s eyebrows furrow.

“Oh you poor poor sheltered girl.” Which throws both of you into a hiss of laughter while she leans up against you in victory. You both got what you wanted. Even if you didn’t know you wanted it.

You definitely knew you wanted it.  part three; holding onto thin lines ‘till we just walk between them.

title from: softly by clario

main masterlist

hi guys so here’s the second part, I think it’s gonna be 3 parts because the last two have been 3.5/4k so the last one could be 6/6.5k and I can end it there. Glad you guys like it so far and comment if you wanna be tagged!! & if you’re wondering, yes gen’s faceclaim is gen padalecki our beautiful beautiful girl. her and adri are a power couple.

ALSOOO I REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS I love u guys sm and I’m so glad you like my writing enough to want to follow me and I love talking to you and getting your thoughts on everything so let me know what I should do for 100!!

tag list: @angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403

[latenightdaydreams]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSY8mJ1go/

When I watched this clip, 'the attack of triplets' made me laugh so hard and reminded me of Konig immediately. I can't stop thinking about Konig and reader after she gave him triplets. 😩😩

I feel like your writing skills are improved, all your writing recently is so smooth and easy to imagine the scene. And the circumstances are so real too!!! Keep going, I love you sm🎀🎀

You're the sweetest🩷 I always appreciate your support🥰 I decided to turn it into a little Father's Day fluff!

Father's Day (fem)

All fluff!

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, adoption, fluff

1.0k word count

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When König first met you, he had no desire to be a father. Growing up, his own father was abusive and distant. It’s always been a fear of his that he would turn out like him if he has his own. Then he met you. A single mom of a four-year-old daughter. It’s as if everything he thought he wanted suddenly changed.

Becoming a dad to your daughter, Sara, was like second nature. Even though he’s a massive scary man, Sara was never scared of him. Early in the relationship, he brought you a more reliable car and an apartment in a nicer area. While you weren’t his wife yet, but he knew you would be someday.

He was right because only one year later, the two of you got married. After only two months of being married, you missed a period. At your first ultrasound appointment, you were given the surprise of your life. One, two, three sacks. Three.

König nearly fainted looking at the image of three babies in your uterus. From that day on, he would brag to everyone and anyone. His first time getting a woman pregnant and it’s with triplets? That just proves how powerful his sperm is, right?

Today is Father’s Day morning. In the kitchen Sara, now nine, helps you cook breakfast for König. The triplets, two boys named John and James and one girl named Jessica, run around the kitchen screaming and trying to hit each other with plastic swords. They’re three years old and absolutely crazy.

“Hey, James, John, Jessica, why don’t you go get Daddy? Go tell him food is ready.” With mischievous little giggles, the three set off to wake König from his slumber.

Asleep peacefully in bed, König dreams of retirement on the beach when he feels a hard whack on his head. He slowly wakes up when another comes down hard. König can hear the sounds of their giggles, causing him to smile. He opens one eye and looks at Jessica, the one that’s been hitting him. She looks just like König, blondish hair and pale skin.

One more hit before König roars like a wild beast, causing all the kids to scream and scatter. His arm wraps around little Jessica that was the closest and brought her to him, pretending to eat her belly.

“Nom, nom, nom! Yummy children!” He yells as Jessica kicks her feet, giggling.

James and John run from the room laughing and yelling, “Daddy's a monster!” They shout, running to the kitchen.

König places Jessica on his shoulders as he crouches down and rushes after the boys. Jessica points forward at her brothers. “Get them!”

“Daddy will get all of you!”

As you continue to make pancakes and Sara sets the table, you can hear the commotion heading your way. Sara looks back at you with wide eyes as we hear König and Jessica’s evil laughs. James and John come running into the kitchen and hide behind Sara.

“Daddys a monster!” They repeat excitedly. “He ate Jessie!”

“Ahhhhh! I’ve found you!” König stomps, running into the kitchen. He rushes and grabs the boys while Jessica holds on to his head.

König freezes and looks at the table set, the red flowers in a vase, the smell of good food in the air. His gaze lands on the cards lined up on the kitchen counter too. A warm smile rushes over his face as he gently puts the boys down and then Jessica. He walks to Sara with a big smile and hugs her, kissing her forehead. She’s his first baby, who made him a dad, of course he has to thank her first.

“I love you, Blume.”

“I love you too, Dad.” Sara smiles and hugs him back.

Once he pulls away, he walks to you next. A flirty smile on his lips as he gazes down at you. A messy bun and stained pajamas, yet you look like an angel still. His large arms wrap around your body and squeeze you, the true reason he’s a dad. The woman who showed him it’s okay to feel vulnerable. You’re his whole world.

“I love you, Schatz.” König whispers as he leans down to kiss your lips tenderly. “Thank you for everything. My kids, this home, helping me heal, everything.” He picks you up in a deeper kiss.

“Ew.” Sara turns away rolling her eyes making you both laugh.

König sets you back down on your feet. “Thank you for breakfast.”

He takes a seat at the table; James comes over and crawls on to his lap as you sit the other two in their booster seats at the table. Sara leaves for a moment and comes back. She stands watching as König cuts up pancakes for the little ones. He senses her standing there.

“Ja, Blume?” He turns to look at her to see she’s holding a folder in her hand. “What’s this?”

“Um, I guess it’s something that’s been a long time coming.” Sara walks forward and hands it to him.

König opens it to see adoption paper work inside. Instantly tears begin to flood his tear line, making his vision blurry. He has no words as he looks down trying to choke back tears.

Jessica looks at König and points. “Daddy, don’t cry.”

James looks up at König and pats his face, causing König to cry. He stands with James in his arm and used the other to squeeze Sara in a big hug. Tears stream down the usually stoic and cold Austrian man’s face.

“I’ll be your dad.” He whispers to Sara. His silent tears turn to sobs as you place your hand on his back and caress him.

König never imagined his life turning soft. He never saw himself as a step dad or dad, now here he is. He’s been blessed for some reason with a beautiful wife and amazing children. There isn’t a day that doesn’t pass without him thanking which ever god sent you all to him.

[transchesters]

sam doesn’t know how he let it get this bad.

it’s just that… sam’s a chubby kid. it’s not even that he eats too much or doesn’t exercise -- they can’t afford to eat too much anyways, and dad is always putting him through some rigorous training or another. but he’s short for his age, and his body hasn’t figured out how to distribute fat and muscle.

it’s starting to piss dad off. he pushes him harder and screams at him when he’s too slow, when dean knocks him down too easily, when he gets winded too fast.

this is what ends up making sam hyper-aware of his size. so he starts to change things about his lifestyle.

it started small. he ordered less at diners. he ate small bites of the cold pizza dean brought home. he grabbed an apple before school and called it breakfast and lunch, then had a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for dinner.

it wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry. he was, to an extent. but he liked feeling hungry. it reminded him he was alive, because sometimes he doesn’t feel alive at all.

he’s fourteen when this started. he has no control over anything in his life. dad moves them from town to town without caring about the ramifications on his sons. dean bosses him around and beats him up, coercing him into sparring practice and ordering him to dig into whatever lore dad needed to know. he’s practically just a puppet for their amusement.

but there are little things he could control. like what food he puts in his mouth, and how much of it, and when. it’s not like he has any friends to notice that he doesn’t eat in the cafeteria during lunch. he’s invisible to them, and he’s invisible at home, too. dean and dad would only notice if he disappeared next time they needed information on how to kill a djinn or if vampires were solitary creatures.

it gets worse when dad’s home. dad, who drills him on the lore. dad, who coaches him on his right hook so he can take down a monster three times his size. dad, who looks at him like he’s a soldier. or perhaps a toy.

sam drops weight like crazy. dad tells him he looks great. dean stares at him more than usual like he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong. but he must be doing something right, so he keeps at it.

the first time sam passes out, it’s… a mess. he was on a run, because that’s about the only thing he can do to get away from the motel. but he hadn’t eaten at all that day, so in hindsight a run was a terrible idea.

he stumbles down into a ditch when his vision starts to go. he doesn’t remember falling to his hands and knees, nor does he remember vomiting up what little remains in his stomach. soon it’s just green bile and spit and he’s heaving and heaving until he can’t breathe at all.

he comes to just a few minutes later. he’s staring up at the sky, slowly growing dark. he’ll miss curfew. he’s not sure if he cares.

after that incident, sam tries to be smarter about this whole thing. he can’t go around passing out any time he has to run. he knows that any day now, john’s going to start bringing him out on hunts. he knows dean was his age when he started hunting. it’s only a matter of time.

so, trying to be rational, he starts eating a bit more. an apple for breakfast. a granola bar for lunch. maybe some toast for dinner, since he knows carbs keep you going longer.

no one notices the rings under his eyes. they don’t notice that his wrists are so small, a child could wrap their hand around them. they don’t notice that sometimes he only manages two bites of bread before he’s excusing himself from the table and hiding in his room.

—

sam is nineteen when someone notices. jessica moore, with her wild hair and her loud, wonderful presence, wants to have sex with him. and sam doesn’t know what to do, so suddenly he’s shirtless and jessica is staring at him like he’s a freak.

he’s out the door of her dorm room and fleeing across campus before she can process it.

sam thinks it’s over. he’s sure he’ll never see jessica again, that she’ll block him out and tell their friends to ignore him, too. but then she shows up at his favorite study spot the next day, sitting down across from him at the library. she sets a folder on top of sam’s laptop and smiles tentatively. sam looks down at it.

“how to cope with an eating disorder.”

they learn about it together. jessica tells sam about safe foods and asks what his might be. they eat in private, refusing offers to go out to eat with friends. she makes him salads and makes sure to buy organic, because sam says that even though it’s stupid and more expensive, it makes it seem cleaner. she makes him smoothies with tofu for protein and sam learns that he really loves fruit. at least, as much as he can love food.

sam has bad days. he has really, really bad days. one night, he discovers the momentary joys of binge eating. he eats an entire salad, a microwave bowl of mac and cheese, and a sleeve of oreos.

he spends the night hovering over the toilet, violently trying to expel every last bit of the filth he put inside himself. the next day, he stays in the bathroom. he doesn’t deserve to go out, to let jessica care for him. he tells her to go away when she knocks on the door, and the sound of him throwing up gets her to move.

but he has good days, too. one day, he drinks an entire smoothie, eats an entire salad, eats a few handfuls of trail mix, and in the end he doesn’t want to kill himself. he calls himself stupid for thinking this to be some sort of grand achievement, but jessica scolds him and tells him she’s proud of him.

and then jessica dies.

jessica is ripped away from sam by the foul monster who ruined his life in the first place. she burns on the ceiling of their apartment and sam hates dean for not letting him burn with her.

dean doesn’t notice that sam doesn’t eat for days after her death. he thinks it’s just a coping mechanism. or maybe grief. but at least sam is hunting again. at least sam is with him again. that’s all that matters.

—

sam is twenty-two when he’s possessed by meg. she takes one look inside his screwed up head and laughs.

“oh, sammy. it’s a mess up here.”

she lets sam be present, which is the cruelest thing she can do, and she eats. she eats so much goddamn food.

she goes to local bars wearing sam’s skin, downs several beers and orders two burgers. she takes one back to the motel room she’s camping in, and she eats it in front of the mirror so sam can watch. you could say she picked up a lot of tricks in hell. and yeah, she kills people with his hands. she makes him watch that, too.

call him fucked up, but the eating is worse. the eating is so much worse.

when sam spends two days after the whole meg ordeal locked up in the bathroom, the awful sounds of vomiting hardly being covered by bad tv, dean thinks it’s just because being possessed must have sucked.

—

sam is still twenty-two the first time he dies. he’s twenty-two when he learns that his brother sold his soul to keep him alive.

dean finally begins to notice, because sam doesn’t eat much of anything during his last year.

and when dean is gutted by the hellhounds, sam doesn’t eat at all. it’s not until ruby finds him, drunk and nearly emaciated, about to be killed by some demons, that he forces himself to try. he can’t very well bring dean back and kill lilith when the thought of eating a goddamn apple sends him spiraling.

so he gets stronger. ruby offers him her blood and he drinks it and he eats solid food for the first time in weeks. and when dean is back, and sam is hopped up on demon blood, things seem like they could be okay.

and then sam raises the devil. and dean doesn’t trust him anymore. he hits him and sam lets him. sam loses ruby, and he loses any semblance of an appetite he may have had. he only eats when dean forces him to, being stared down by his older brother in musty diners in the middle of nowhere. he shovels lettuce and tomatoes in his mouth to satisfy dean, and he keeps hunting.

—

sam is twenty-five when he throws himself into the cage. sam is a thousand years old when he’s pulled out, scarred and mangled, but still standing. something is different. his entire being aches less. he breathes easier, he hunts better, and he never feels hungry. he doesn’t sleep or eat and he doesn’t lose weight. he’s perfectly fine. he meets his grandfather and some distant relatives. he learns about his mother, even though he doesn’t care so much about that anymore. he’s reunited with dean, who is immediately put off by sam’s whole vibe. because he’s different. he’s wrong.

even though sam feels the best he’s felt in years.

and then death shoves his rotted soul back into his chest, and sam has never wanted to die more.

nothing is real. reality is slipping and sam can’t keep a single bite of food down without retching up bile and acid from the depths of his stomach.

—

sam is twenty-nine and one thousand years old when he starts the trials to close the gates of hell. he had been doing so good these last four years. he doesn’t talk to dean about it, but dean seems to understand that his brother prefers light meals with fresh vegetables, so he makes himself burgers and salads for sam.

but now, sam is doing something meaningful for once. he’s going to close the gates of hell, and he’s going to be cleansed in the process.

he has an excuse not to eat. he feels like he’s dying — according to cas, he is. so he downs a few spoonfuls of dean’s soup and tells him he isn’t hungry. which is true. it’s just not because of the trials.

the trials are good. they’re a gift from god. they rip out his insides and force him to puke them out.

and he’s ready to die to finish them. he’s excited to die, at the end of this. he will finally be free of his broken body and his broken soul and his empty stomach. he doesn’t care if he ends up in heaven or hell. at least he can just be done.

but dean isn’t ready for him to die. dean fights for him, tells him to stay, says all the right words to have sam let the trials go.

and then he still almost dies.

and when he comes to, he feels different. it’s hard to put his finger on, but he’s losing time. they pass fifty mile markers in the span of two minutes, and sam feels like he might be going crazy.

but at least he isn’t hungry, and he isn’t dying from starvation. he doesn’t have to eat, for some reason. he doesn’t think about why and instead accepts it as the blessing it is.

but then he learns why. dean tricked him into saying yes to some freak angel, and now kevin’s blood was on his hands.

and his body is all sorts of fucked up.

and his autonomy was taken from him once again.

so he retaliates the one way he knows how.

sam doesn’t each much at all these days.

[greg-montgomery]

Hi! Sorry for bothering, I have a request if you don't mind, but I have a thing to say too. I downloaded tumbler just a week ago, and I've been in love with everything you've written. Literally, you can't even imagine how much. The dynamics between Hotch and Reader are >>>>>>>, not to mention the Jack-Reader bond, which, honestly, is healing my inner child, lol.

If you have time, of course, and if you wouldn't mind doing that (I really don't wanna bother you) could you write something with this plot?

The team has to share a room for a case, and Hotch had to bring Jack because Jessica couldn't be with him. Hotch, since he was with Jack, had decided to take the room alone, but when Reader asked Emily to room-share, Jack insisted on staying with Reader. Then, you know, there's only one bed... And while Hotch is showering, Reader ends up comforting Jack, and they fall asleep together, cutely. When Hotch cames back, he asks Reader for cuddles.

I'm sorry if that's too long or if you don't wanna write it, it's totally okay, really. Sorry for bothering again <3

hii! i just wanna say you mentioning about 'healing your inner child' really touched my heart. like this is the biggest compliment i could ever get? thank you for telling me! i love you and i hope you like this <333

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Are you ready to play uno with me till 3am?” you grinned at Emily, your hand squeezing hers tightly.

Her own grin revealed that her answer would be positive, but she didn’t have the chance to actually reply. A tiny voice rushed to respond on her behalf.

“No!”

Aaron turned to look at his son with a surprised expression, watching him running to you and grabbing your hand that was holding Emily’s.

“Stay with me instead,” he whined. “Please, Y/N!”

It was endearing how attached Jack was to you. Just a few nights of babysitting to help out your boss were enough for the kid to consider you as one of his best friends. And of course the feelings were mutual.

Still, you weren’t sure how to respond. Jack accompanying his dad to a work trip was already unconventional, but the three of you sharing a room? It felt way too intimate for a boss, his kid, and his subordinate.

“Sweetie,” you said, squatting down so you could be face to face. “You’ll be staying with your dad.”

“There’s room for you too!”

You let out a sigh, unable to say no to the kid’s puppy eyes. Your own eyes searched for Aaron’s, finding him staring at your interaction amused. At least he wasn’t mad.

“Only if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” he said.

“Oh no, not at all,” you reassured him. Getting up, you took Jack’s hand and walked close to Hotch. “But are you sure you’re not uncomfortable?” you asked him quietly.

“Jack loves you. We’ll be happy to have you.”

“Okay then.” You gave him a sweet smile, and the two of you laughed at the sound of Jack cheering.

--

“Come here, little man,” you ordered Jack with one eyebrow raised, even though you both knew it was all very much an act.

“You said we’d play uno!”

“No, I said I’d play uno with Emily, who is a grown up and can stay up till late. You mister, should be sleeping already.

He pouted at your words but you wouldn’t have it. “Come here, and I’ll tell you as many bedtime stories as you want.”

“Promise?” he asked, stretching out his arm and raising his little finger.

You hooked yours with his, “Promise.”

Aaron was still in the shower when you and Jack crawled under the covers. You worried about making room for him, since you would all have to share one bed. The situation was so domestic and intimate; it felt as if you were a real family. A part of you wondered if that was the way things were meant to be.

Jack’s little head on your chest, shook the thoughts away and reminded you that there was a bedtime story waiting to be told. So you pulled him even closer to you, and started playing with his hair.

“Once upon a time there was a little country girl. Her mother had a little red riding hood made for her, so everybody called her Little Red Riding Hood…”

You weren’t sure how many stories it took for you and Jack to fall asleep. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep until you felt some movement on the bed, which was Aaron struggling to get just a little bit of your shared blanket.

“Sorry,” you whispered as soon as you were awake enough to figure out what was happening.

“It’s okay. It’s too small for all three of us.”

“Yeah…” you said, feeling almost guilty.

“We should probably move closer so it can cover us better,” he suggested and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Just say you’re jealous and want cuddles too,” you teased him.

“Fine, busted,” he said, obviously not caring that you had found out his true motives. “Now both of you come here.”

He stretched out his arm and you and Jack were snuggled up in his embrace in no time.

[pinkthrone445]

-Since words are not enough to explain how much I love you, let me show you- Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fluff, soft

Warnings:none I think

Summary:Months after celebrating your wedding anniversary, Mel has a baby fever when she sees you holding a child in your arms. After trying for a few months, the treatment has a result and the Abbott's family gets bigger.

The room was spinning around you, the four walls of the bathroom were shrinking around you, you were short of breath, and your whole body was shaking. You had thought about calling your wife, but you didn't want to see her disappointed like last time, so you decided to do it alone. How could it be that your future depended on a plastic cup with pee on it and a stick inside it? The bell had already sounded, indicating that the children would already be in the classrooms, but the 3 minutes of the test were not yet up and you needed to know. The 3 months of treatment had already passed and Mel and you had done several pregnancy tests and none were positive. But today it felt different, you felt different, you also kept in mind that you said that the previous times, but it really felt different this time; and even though your doctor's visit would be at the end of that week, you needed to know now.

Your cell phone alarm went off and with trembling hands you looked at the mark of the 3 pregnancy tests you had put in the disposable cup. All three clearly marked two red lines, they were positive, the treatment had worked, and you were pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Your mind started to travel a thousand miles an hour, you didn't know what to do, did you throw away the tests? How would you say to Mel? How would you bear not to tell her until you get home? Mel would surely realize that something was wrong, she knew you too well. How would you concentrate to teach your class now?

You were pacing around the bathroom until your cell phone lit up with a message from your wife

-🔥Jessica Rabbit🔥:"Amore? Where are you? Are you okay? One of your students came to my classroom because you still haven't come to your classroom. Did something happen?"-

With trembling hands you grabbed your cell phone, you wanted to send her a message, but on accident you called her and she answered before you could hang up the call

-"Hi love, are you okay?"- Your wife asked, her fear could be heard in her voice

-"I... I'm fine... I was in the bathroom, you know how horrible are my nausea after eating..."-You commented in a trembling voice, you weren't good at lying to her. Why you were afraid to tell her or for her to find out? This was what you were both looking for, what you both wanted.

-"Need more time? I can take care of your students..."-Your wife proposed and you sighed, you didn't know why you suddenly felt like crying

-"I need you... Please... Can you come to the teachers bathroom? Please I need you" - You pleaded and your voice broke. Your frightened wife got up quickly, let Barbara and Janine know if they could see the kids, and ran with you, not hanging up the call.

When she got to the bathroom, she gently knocked on the door listening to your faint response from the other side to get her in. She barely managed to close the door that you were already on top of her, hugging her tightly and taking a little of air out of her, her arms wrapped around you carefully and protectively.

-"What happened? Are you okay? Do you need anything?" - Your wife asked trying to see your face but you just hid in her neck-"Love, please speak to me"

-"I...I love you"-You whispered on her neck and she hugged you more but a little confused

-"I love you too... But why are you crying?"-She whispered, still worried

-"Remember that time we went to church when we visited your family, and they read something that said, 'If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains'?"- You whispered looking into her eyes and she nodded more confused than ever, not knowing where this was going, but she was worried about seeing your red eyes-"Then we looked up how big a mustard seed was and it was very small, smaller than our fingerprints, but from that seed grew a big, strong tree..."-You took Mel's hand and rested it on your stomach-"Well... Our baby is the size of a mustard seed right now, but they will grow up to be big and strong, like their moms" - You whispered with a big smile and Melissa looked at you very surprised, her eyes filled with tears

-"Are you sure?" - She asked in a trembling voice and you nodded showing her the 3 positive tests. The redhead said something in Italian that you couldn't quite understand and picked you up, hugging and kissing you with great joy. You laughed on her lips and hugged her, feeling her tears wet your cheeks. When you thought that Mel's love for you couldn't grow any more, you saw it right there, you saw it in her eyes, how they shone, with the adoration they looked at you, it was as if her heart had enlarged just so she could give more love to you and the baby. One of her soft hands lifted your blouse and touched your abdomen, she smiled and closed her eyes, causing a couple of tears to fall but her smile only grew bigger and bigger. You knew in that moment that Mel would be a perfect mother.

At the end of the week the doctor reaffirmed the beautiful news and your wife couldn't get over the excitement.

Weeks later, you informed Ava of the news, so that she could process your pregnancy leave, and then you decided to tell the rest of your coworkers before Ava ruined the surprise.

One morning, while everyone was eating breakfast, you arrived with a box of donuts from everyone's favorite place and left it on the table smiling

-"Good day beautiful people, we brought you a gift for you to enjoy"-You said and they all smiled thanking you, but when they opened the box, the room went silent, until Janine left out a high scream of excitement and Barbara came to hug you both.

The box said "eat folks, my mommy can't be the only one with a belly", next to a photo of the most recent ultrasound scan. Everyone congratulated you with great joy hugging mostly you and not that much to your wife, she would be a mother but she was still very scary. Mel from that moment on set some rules, such as that they could not touch your belly without first asking, and that when she was not present they should take care of you. You just laughed even though you knew your wife meant it.

You also told the children in your classroom the special news with a small game, you taught them how to write in morse code and gave them a small piece of paper to guess what it said, that kept them entertained for a while and when they saw that the note said "Miss (Y/L/N) is going to have a baby" they all went crazy with excitement and made a grup hug with you.

From the moment your colleagues at Abbott found out you were pregnant, they had become more protective than when you had told them you started fertilization treatment. Everyone took care of you in their own way.

Also, your cravings were the weirdest and grossest thing in the world, which matched the way Janine "cooked" her lunches. So every time she took out her tupperware of food, the disgusting aroma radiating from them made you want to eat it. Your wife was offended at first when she saw that you were preferring Janine's food over hers, but when she read in the pregnancy book that pregnant women preferred to eat certain things because they lacked iron or sugar, she understood that there were days when you preferred Janine's food because your iron was low and sure that in some of Janine's meals you could find a piece of spoon or a key that she put in to give it more "flavor". On the other hand, Mel prepared food for Janine just in case you wanted it hers, which made the youngest very happy because she was eating well for the first time in her life.

Jacob would always bring you home remedies or recipes he had practiced to help you with nausea, some helped and some just made you want to vomit more.

Gregory gave you several sets of legos for when the baby is older and flowers to decorate the house.

Ava joined everyone else and every once in a while she would give you very fashionable and tiny clothes for the baby.

Barbara shared her pregnancy experience with you and gave you very useful advice, as well as always checking on you that you were okay.

Mr. Johnson always made sure that the bathroom in your classroom was always nice and smelled good so you wouldn't feel like throwing up.

Even the children took care of you, every time you dropped something they picked it up and gave it to you so that you wouldn't make any effort.

Melissa was a different case, she had gone crazy with the arrival of the baby, she always came home with some new clothes, book or toy for the baby. You didn't even know what it was going to be yet, but you already had the wardrobe complete thanks to her. Also together you painted the room and assembled the crib, as well as a chair to cradle the baby. Your wife was also knitting clothes for the baby, and cooking every craving you had. At night she would spend at least half an hour every night talking to the baby before going to sleep, and when you slept, she would hug you very carefully caressing your belly, which had already grown quite a bit thanks to time.

Mel was loving every second of the pregnancy, especially seeing how your body changed, how your breasts grew and how your hips widened. She also loved feeling the baby kick or listening to the baby's heartbeat, so much so that she had it saved on her cell phone.

When it was time to find out the sex of the baby, your co-workers asked if you could tell the doctor to write it down so they could throw a party to find out the baby's gender. Melissa didn't want to at first, but you convinced her and she agreed.

The party was beautiful, they asked the guests that if they thought it was a girl to bring diapers and if it was a boy, to bring wet wipes, so at the end of the party they would give it to you to help you with some useful things.

The party was full of food and snacks, they played games like putting the pacifier on the baby with your eyes blindfolded, say it with mimic (babie edition) , guessing the size of your belly (that one was won by Melissa since she always had her hands on you), finishing a bottle of milk without hands, who guessed the lullaby by clues, and many more. Almost every game triggered a competition between the Schemmenti sisters.

When it came to guessing the baby's gender, they brought a piñata in the shape of a bottle and gave Mel a bat, which made her very happy. Once she tore it up, pink papers jumped all over the place, announcing that it would be a girl, which you and your wife celebrated a lot.

You two also announced that her name would be Isabella and you asked Barbara if she wanted to be the baby's Godmother, which made her cry and she accepted immediately.

At first your pregnancy seemed eternal, because of how heavy and big your belly was and how uncomfortable it was. But before you could think about it any more, your pregnancy leave arrived and finally the day of delivery was here.

Your birth was simple, it was by c-section, so you didn't feel so much pain thanks to the anesthesia, and your wife was with you at all times, squeezing your hand so tightly that you were afraid she would break your fingers. Barbara, Melissa's sister and the others were in the waiting room supporting you and waiting for some news.

Your little Isabella was born healthy, as soon as she was handed to you you counted all her little fingers and smiled when you saw that she had the same eye color as Mel. The little girl looked sleepy and snuggled into your chest while you caressed her back. Your wife adjusted your hair a little and kissed your forehead, thanking you for being such a strong woman and repeating how happy you made her and how much she loved you, and then she saw your little girl unable to help crying. Without a doubt, that was the happiest moment of both of your lives.

After a while, the others came in with balloons to meet little Bella.

After the birth, for a couple of weeks, Mel was with you at home, and although having a newborn was complicated, your wife helped you a lot and the two of you were able to enjoy a little paradise with the little baby.

When Mel finally had to go back to work, you decided to go visit her and your colleagues at Abbott. As soon as you entered the teacher's room, everyone greeted you with excitement fighting to see who got to hold Bella first, while she watched very attentively as everyone talked

-"I'm her godmother, I want to hold her first, I've hadn't had a baby in my arms for so long..."-Barbara murmured, and you handed it to her carefully. As soon as you let go, Barbara sniffed her little head and smiled, Mel stood behind you and hugged you, resting her head on your shoulder.

-"I want to hold her up after Barbara" - Janine commented excitedly and Ava laughed

-"I don't know if Janine is going to hold the baby or if the baby is going to hold her, they're about the same height" - Ava joked and then walked over to the baby and Barbara-"I want to hold her too" - She whispered, smiling as she watched the baby grab her finger.

Your wife kissed your cheek and continued to watch as everyone talked to little Bella, suddenly your family had grown much more than for the baby's arrival, all your friends were now uncles and guardians of the little girl, now they were all officially part of the family.

[ninii-winchester]

Uncertainty

Pairing : Sam Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.8k

Warnings: angst, spoilers for 10x5 (Fan Fiction), language, mentions of Jessica, unedited.

A/n : Wrote Sammy for the first time. Hope you enjoy

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Love, how would one define the complexity of the emotion named love. Falling in love in an intricate feeling that encompasses a range of emotions. A person falls in love multiple times throughout their lifetime, so how would you conclude it's actually love.

"Hey!" Sam snapped his finger in front of Y/n's face pulling her out of her thoughts about the complex emotion. "You zoned out."

"Uh yeah I'm sorry, what were you saying?" She asked straightening up again.

"Dean found us a case. An all girls school teacher went missing in Michigan." Sam informed her. She nodded her head affirming she heard him this time.

"I see, how is it our thing again?" She questioned.

"Well we're not sure but Dean thinks it's worth checking out." Sam replied grabbing his things from the table. "Meet you outside in ten?" She nodded her head again standing up from the chair. "Hey are you okay?" He asked holding her arms.

"I'm fine." She replied vaguely.

"you don't seem fine, are you sure you're okay?" Sam was worried and it was evident on his face.

"I'm fine." She repeated but this time she managed to give him a smile.

"I'll let it go for now." He said leaning down to peck her lips. "But you know can talk to me about anything right?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you outside." Y/n said and Sam left her to pack her stuff up. She let out sigh grabbing her bag and putting her stuff inside.

She hadn't been well, physically she's fine. Emotionally, not so much. Sam and her have been together for as long as she can remember. But it has been a bumpy ride. Their relationship wasn't all rainbows and sunshine, not because of their lives as hunters but she felt there's always been something between the two of them, some sort of a distance that maybe only she felt. Sam always had other priorities, his brother, the world, hell or heaven. Sometimes she wondered did he actually love her or was with her for the sake of it. To avoid the loneliness that comes as part of the job.

The blaring horn of the Impala broke her out of of her thoughts, she grabbed her bag and walked out of the motel room they were staying in.

"What were you napping in there?" Dean commented as she open the door to backseat.

"Yeah was dreaming about crashing your Baby." She retorted without missing a beat. Dean gasped dramatically, turning to look at her in the backseat.

"You take that back, woman." She rolled her eyes at his antics. Dean turned to Sam who was having the time of his life watching his brother lose it over a small comment. "Sammy tell your girl to take it back." Sam just laughed shaking his head. Any other time her heart would've fluttered being called Sam's girl but now it just seemed to be taunting her.

"Just drive, would you?" Y/n told Dean, her voice low and tired that wasn't missed by either brother.

Y/n slept in the backseat the for the whole ride, or as they thought. She was awake but didn't feel like being a part of a conversation so she pulled her jacket over her face.

Once they found a motel room, the three of them changed into their Feds outfits. They arrived at the school while Sam got off the phone with the local police officer.

"The last place Mrs Chadler was seen by anyone was at the auditorium, she's the drama teacher." He informed as the three of them got out of the car.

Y/n followed behind the two men as they continued to bicker about 'theatre kids.' The principal showed them to the auditorium and their jaws dropped the moment they entered inside.

"What the fuck?" Y/n exclaimed as she took in the scene in-front of them, a banner was set up above the stage which "Supernatural: the musical." She heard familiar words being yelled like 'idjits or hey ass butt'. A girl wearing a leather jacket supposedly "Dean" started singing their about their life story. The boys opened and closed their mouth clearly thrown off by the barbarous act.

Two girls approached them, one was wearing a red beret and both of them had glasses on. She introduced the both of them and continued blabbering thinking they're from the publishers. Sam interrupted her.

"I'm Special Agent Smith and these are my partners Special Agent Smith," he pointed to Dean, "and Special Agent Wood." He gestured towards Y/n. "we're here to look in to the disappearance of-"

"There is no singing in Supernatural." Dean interrupted Sam and Y/n stomped on his feet subtly.

"We're here to talk about Mrs Chandler's disappearance." She added quickly. "She was last seen here so we were hoping you could show us around."

"Uh sure." Said Marie, "I'll do that, and Maeve can show you the sound booth." She said pointing to the other girl.

"Alright Agent Smith." Y/n said turning to Sam , "you can go with Maeve while Agent Smith and I check out the stage area." Sam nodded letting Maeve lead him.

Marie turned around walked down a few steps Y/n followed behind her but Dean stopped her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why do you two keep asking me that?" She sighed and he gave her look.

"Because you're acting weird." Dean concluded as if it's the most obvious thing.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She said turning back to walk down.

"So there is something." He called out from behind her.

"De-" she stopped herself from saying his name. Before she could say anything Marie called out to them,

"Agents?" She was waiting for them to join her, Dean muttered a 'later' to her before going over to Marie and Y/n rolled her eyes following him.

Marie continued to blabber about supernatural and Dean kept engaging with her, telling her what actually happened after Chuck stopped writing any more books, Y/n had tuned off the rest of their conversation. She tuned back in she heard Marie say,

"I'm a Sam girl. I like Dean too but Sam..." she trailed off with a dreamy sigh. "And you know as much I like Y/n's character I think their relationship is forced." She said nonchalantly.

Dean watched Y/n face turn into a frown so he spoke, "well I don't think so. I think they're great together. They love each other."

"I mean yeah Y/n does I guess but Sam? Not so much." They continued walking and reached the back stage.

"What makes you think that?" Dean snapped unintentionally. Marie looked taken aback but she replied as cooly as possible.

"There's barely any romance between them. Hell Dean's got more action, with different ladies combined, than them." She said stopping before the curtain where they could see the girls rehearsing on the stage.

"Alright whatever, thank you for showing us around." Dean replied. "give us a minute." Marie left off to do whatever it was that she did.

"Don't." Y/n said as soon as Marie left. She knew what he was gonna say and she didn't want to hear it. He sighed and dropped it.

The whole time they were at the school the air had been awkward. Y/n had been zoning out more often and Sam was getting worried. They were successful in killing the Calliope and saving Marie and others. Sam asked Dean if he knew what's wrong but the older Winchester just told him to talk to her. They left the school and arrived at their motel within minutes. Dean knew a conversation between the couple was long due so he announced his departure and left the room.

"Baby." Sam called out reaching for Y/n. He hugged her figure from behind wrapping his arms around her smaller body. "You've been distant."

"Have I?" She didn't intended to be snarky but it came out as that.

"What's wrong?" He asked turning her around, still holding her in his embrace. "Hey! Talk to me."

"Why are you with me Sam?" Her question caught him off guard.

"Because I love you! What kinda question is that?" He asked offended she'd even ask him that.

"I don't think so!" She exclaimed getting out of his arms. "It's been gnawing at me for a while now Sam, this, us, I feel like I'm just a chore to you." Sam's face fell at her words. He knew they haven't been able to spend some lone time together but he didn't think she'd felt that way.

"That's not true at all. Damn it." He said running his hair through his hands. "I had no idea you felt that way." He made her sit on the bed and kneeled in-front of her.

"Sometimes I feel like you never got over Jess. And I'm just there to fill the space she left behind." She whispered ever so lowly she wasn't even sure if he heard her. But he did and damn did it break his heart. She felt bad bringing up his dead girlfriend but that's how she felt. And if they're having the talk then they'll talk.

"Fuck." Sam exhaled loudly. He cupped her cheeks in his large hand, resting his forehead on hers. "Yea I loved her." He started "but I am in love with you, irrecoverably. I am so sorry that I couldn't show you how head over heels I am for you. I guess I got carried away in our problems that I didn't notice. Truth is I wouldn't last a day without you, baby. This job, hunting it's all meaningless if you aren't by my side."

"You mean all that?" Y/n questioned, looking at him with watery eyes. He smiled nodding, his own eyes a bit glazed.

"I do. I know I've been an idiot and I'm so sorry for hurting you." Sam said holding her close. "But I'd make it up to you."

"You promise not to let anything else come between us?" She asked him.

"I promise, my love, honest to God." Sam kissed her, and she kissed him back. His hands moved down to hold her neck, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. He gently removed her shirt and threw it somewhere across the room. He picked her up and laid her on the bed. He hovered above her trailing kisses down from her jaw to her neck. She tugged on his shirt which he gladly removed. "I love you. So much." He said getting on too of her again. He placed his lips on her collarbone, sucking hard, intent on leaving a mark.

"I hope you-" Dean's voice was heard as he opened the door "ah God dammit." He yelled closing the door.

Sam groaned making Y/n laugh. He pressed his lips to her ceasing her laughter. She closed her eyes as he conveyed all his love and adoration through the tender kiss.

[luveline]

Hey jade!!!! I love your work ❤️❤️. I was wondering if you would do more of the kisses before dinner au? Maybe just some fluff of Steve and r taking care of the new baby?? Or anything you want with them—I just love that au so much. Thanks!!!

dad!steve and mom!reader finding a balance with the new baby<3 thank you for your request!

Steve Harrington was meant to be a dad. He’s wanted to have kids since he was young, twenty and broken-hearted thinking up futures he worried he might never have. And then he met you, and all too soon (somehow not soon enough) you were having his baby, and now he’s here. 

He can’t believe it. 

The baby sleeps in his arms. She’s three weeks old, so so small, and she looks a lot like you, in his opinion. You’d laughed fondly and exhausted into his shoulder when he told you his theory a couple of minutes ago, saying, Babies look like babies, Steve. 

Still, Steve looks at her and he can’t help hoping she’ll have your eyes, your nose, your big pretty smile. 

You’re dozing with your head propped against his shoulder, drooling down his arm. Avery’s in your lap, and she doesn’t seem disappointed that you’ve fallen asleep. Steve worried she might be, because with the new baby finally here and home, Avery’s not getting nearly as much attention as she should. Steve feels guilty but he knows everything will be back to normal soon. You can only do what you can. 

“What do you think, Ave?” he asks quietly. “She look like your mom?”

“I hope she looks like you so she looks like me,” Avery says. 

“But what about Bethie?” Steve asks. Avery is the oldest, Bethie her junior. 

“What about Beth?”

“If you look like me, and Dove looks like me,” —Dove, the former youngest, your two year old— “and then the baby looks like me, only Beth looks like your mom.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he says genuinely. 

Steve never thought he was ugly, but seeing his face on someone else’s, seeing the brown of his eyes staring back at him through Avery’s gaze, it gave him an appreciation for his features that he never had before. But… you’re beautiful. The love of his life, before and after his children. He thinks it’s only fair that these sweethearts you made near enough by yourself would carry you with them in more than their actions. It’s the reason he finds himself so sweet on Bethie. (All his girls are gorgeous and loved, of course, but he looks at Beth and he sees you every now and then. He catches you in her unassuming smiles and hears you in her laugh and he can’t help it, he leans over to give her hair a good stroke.) 

But again, if the baby looks like Steve, it won’t matter. In the same way it didn’t matter that she was another girl. She’ll be just as loved as the rest of them, no matter what. She already is. 

Like she knows she’s being talked about, the baby coughs in his arms. Steve’s a pro at babies now, truly, he knows all the steps. He’s a great dad. And still his heart stops when he’s reminded of how new she is, how fragile.

How strong, too. Her little leg twitches against his chest. Steve beams down at her, relieved when she stays sleeping.

“Did you and mom pick a name yet?” Avery whispers. 

“Why? Do you have any ideas?” Steve asks back. 

“I don’t know.”

Steve tries to pour as much of his love and pride for her into his expression as he can. “Come on, Avery, tell me. I can’t promise we’ll choose one, but I wanna hear your ideas. What names do you like?”

“I liked Heather,” she says. That was one Steve suggested. You’d been unsure. 

“Yeah?”

“And Tiffany, too. We’d be Ave, Beth, Dove and Tiff.”

“You’d sound like a TV show,” Steve laughs. 

Avery giggles. “Okay, what about Sarah? Or Jessica?”

“I know too many Jessica’s,” Steve says, “but Sarah’s really nice.” 

Steve doesn’t know what you’ll choose. Three weeks is the longest one of his girls has gone without a name, because this time you just can’t pick. Avery had a name before she was born, and you got one look at Dove and knew, but Bethie hadn’t been so easy, and now this new baby is following suit. 

“Dad?”

“What?”

“She’s awake.”

Steve looks down, perplexed, and finds Avery’s right. The baby is awake in his arms, unmoving beside her slow sticky blinks. 

“Some babies don’t open their eyes for weeks,” Steve tells Avery. 

“Did I open mine?”

He nods. “You did.”

You rouse against Steve’s shoulder like you can tell the baby is alert. Maybe you can. You sit up with a little moan that makes his heartbreak in half for you, and your hand shoots to your hips. You’ve had a lot of pelvis pain, and some additional soreness where expected. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You barely hear him, love and tenderness in every line and pore of your face. “My baby,” you say, with more emotions in your voice than there are words to describe. “Look, she’s looking at you.”

You pull Avery into your chest and she melts at the affection. She must be missing you more than she’ll say. You notice as Steve notices, tearing your gaze from the newborn against his chest to dot kisses in a bow over her forehead. “My first baby,” you say, delighted. “Sorry for falling asleep. Tell me about your day, honey, I promise I won’t fall asleep again.”

The baby starts crying eventually, and Avery’s face falls. You’re torn, Steve can tell, but you look at him with a smile that says, You have it, right?

Of course he does. Parenting is a balance you struck with one another a long time ago. He takes the baby into the kitchen to heat up a bottle of milk, and listens to you and Avery talking in the living room, hand pat pat patting the baby’s back. 

“Hi, daddy.”

Steve pauses. He holds the baby tight to his chest, before bending down to look under the kitchen table. 

“Oh, there my girls are. I thought you were upstairs watching Princess Polly.”

Dove and Bethie are under the table with a pack of crayons and a huge pad of paper. There’s paper scraps everywhere, and they couldn’t look happier in their mismatched pyjamas. Bethie’s the one who’d spoken, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon.

Dove holds up her drawing. “Look!” she says. 

“I’m looking!” he promises. “Woah! So pretty!”

Bethie won’t show hers. “Mine’s for mommy.”

“I see. Sure I can’t have a little sneak peek?”

She shakes her head. Steve kneels down on the floor so he can watch them drawing, the baby against his chest, bottle held to her mouth. He stays there as the baby falls asleep and is overjoyed by the sound of wax on paper, Dove’s happy babbling, and your laughter echoing in from the living room. 

“Aw, baby,” you’re saying, like Avery’s told you something silly, “I love you.” 

Steve doesn’t know who he’s trying to say it to, but he mouths it after you anyhow. I love you. All his girls. 

The baby hiccups. 

Steve thinks it might be her first love you too. 

—

more of this universe <3 please consider reblogging if you enjoyed<3

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 0.3 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

You meet an old friend of your professor’s, you learn some things about yourself. Tomorrow is going to suck.

warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity. warnings to be added on a chapter by chapter basis. 18+ minors dni

…

Bradley was born in the South. Shitty little town on the cusp of North Carolina and Tennessee. He doesn’t remember much about it other than his neighbors shooting at tin cans in the morning and his cousin Lucas, four years older than him so maybe eight at this time, teaching him how to catch lightning bugs. After that, after his dad hadn’t returned from what was supposed to be just a six month deployment, they went back West.

He remembers California. His grandmother’s mid-century three bedroom with two orange trees and a lemon tree in the yard. His cousin Jessica, only two years his senior but twice his size back then, pinning him down on that almost artificially green grass and squeezing lemon juice on his grazed knee. He remembers learning to ride his bike alone at that house, out of pure spite after watching a kid on his baseball team learn the skill with his father on a sunny day at the park down the street.

He remembers being so angry in that house. He hated Jessica, he hated that his Mom let his grandmother parent him. He enjoyed the citrus, and the sun, and the freedom to ride his bike as far as his legs would let him. His mother hadn’t been super attentive back then. She was angry too. But never with him. When she could manage to look him in the eyes, she would stare for so long, and remind him how much she loved him. It didn’t happen too frequently in that house.

After his grandmother’s house, then there was Phoenix. His first big city. He spent a stretch there from middle school until the end of his freshman year. He did okay there, but he hated the desert. He loved the person that his mother was while she was there. Working again for the first time since she had been pregnant with him, it felt like she had been reborn. He had missed her so much until they had gotten to Phoenix. It was there that he had found out what had really happened to his father.

Engine failure. Freak accident. Nothing ever found to bury. It hadn’t felt like the closure he had wanted, but it was something. He was grateful for the answer nonetheless. He started to resent his father a little less, now knowing that it wasn’t his fault. At this age, Bradley had wanted to write draw for comics when he got older.

By eighteen, he didn’t recognise anything about that short kid that stuck to his mother’s shadow in Phoenix. By eighteen, he had grown a foot and a half, he’d lost his mother and he was back in that fucking mid-century with the lemon trees. Only for a month, and then he was at basic training. His early twenties belonged to the government, and after that — after he was out, it all belonged to Natasha.

“Natasha.”

“Bradley,” She beams, her arms extended as she walks confidently towards him and drapes them around his shoulders. He hugs her and turns his head. She smells so much more expensive now than she had that first summer. He misses when the backseat of his car smelled like her, solely her. “You look so great. I’m so happy to see you.”

It’s unclear whether this is true. He never really knows where he stands with her. They should hate each other after everything that’s happened, everything they did. But, nonetheless, his arms still fit just as securely around her waist as they had almost a decade ago. It still feels so right. But it would be wrong for him to tell her that he’s missed her.

He has — he misses her constantly. But not her, not this woman that’s in his arms now. The girl from the beach who kissed the scar on his shoulder and told him that he didn’t have to keep on making himself so miserable. God, he misses her.

“Your hair is shorter.” He says it without thinking as she lets him go. Shit, this was what they had argued about last time. He always does this. He reaches out, taking the dark locks between his fingertips and exhaling. “I like it. It looks grown up.”

It’s not untrue. He likes the style, and it does look grown up. It’s just not what he wants of her. Not that Natasha has ever cared about that, and he still adores that about her now.

Classier now than she had been then, she gives him a polite smile and a curt nod rather than calling him an asskisser and smacking his chest. Her lips aren’t glossed, they aren’t matte, they sit somewhere between in a perfect shade of burnt rose. They quirk softly at him as she studies the same face she knew so well.

“Where are your students?” She asks him.

For the most part, his students are already headed downstairs, dressed and beyond curious about this party that Bradley was talking about. It hadn’t been on the itinerary and they’re excited that Bradley wants to introduce them to his friends.

There’s just one of his students that, as usual, isn’t following the crowd. You’re sitting on your twin bed, tapping your foot anxiously against the carpet as Malcolm chats along on the other side.

This room is less dusty. A twin bed with blue striped sheets and your suitcase at the foot of it. The window wide open, Robin’s palms had spent the afternoon braced against the wooden framed window as she leaned her top half all the way out of it to look outside. It’s sunnier here than Turin. Cleaner too. It feels infinitely further from home, somehow.

Hearing his voice should be calming you down but if you have to listen to one more detail about how his golf season is going then you might just start gnawing on your nails again. A habit your mother had trained out of you early on. One of many.

“And then that idiot snapped the driver clean in half! — Titanium my ass, those things were costume jewellery in club form.” Malcolm rattles away.

You hate golf. The sport itself is tedious and you’ve grown to associate it with being lectured by your father. Sitting in the buggy with a good book or a friend with good gossip though — that’s a sport you’re willing to invest your time into.

“So, I tell him—“

There’s only so much of this story that you can bring yourself to listen to, truly. It’s rare that you interrupt him. Your mother wouldn’t dare interrupt her husband, but your husband-to-be is nicer than hers. Your life won’t be like hers.

“I’m really nervous about this party, Mac.”

You’ve had this conversation before. Back in December. You’re only reminded of it because he laughs, just like he had back than.

“Honey, you’re going to have a great time. I know it.”

God, you’d gotten so wasted that night. You don’t even remember getting home. It was someone’s birthday, maybe Miranda’s. With limited drinking experience, a new dress and surging confidence, you’d had high hopes for the night.

You had woken up alone and in your childhood bedroom, and Malcom hadn’t returned your calls for three days. Reassurance from him now doesn’t exactly make you feel much better.

“You there?” He prompts.

“Yes.”

“Honey,” His voice is so warm, fond and almost teasing. You can see his smile behind your eyelids, imagine him reaching out and stroking your jaw with the tip of his index finger. “You’re alone there, right?”

Brows knitting closer together for a moment, you glance around you. Robin left a while ago. You’re definitely alone.

“Yes…?”

“When we’re on our honeymoon, and we’re laying in bed together — I’m going to want to hear all about my new wife’s wild life before she was all mine, alright?” He tells you, and suddenly there it is. The comfort that you were looking for. You close your eyes and his voice envelops you like a hug. “Go out there and make some memories. I love you.”

Savouring his voice like the last bite of a rich cake, you take a few moments and exhale softly.

“I love you too.” You tell him. The longing in your voice translates, crossing the Atlantic without issue. You smooth your dress out across your knees. “Now stop thinking about our honeymoon, we’ve got to make it to the wedding first.”

“Well, if you’d like me to think about our wedding night then—“

“Malcolm, you animal.” You scoff, and he grins in response, offering a breathy chuckle. Both of you know he’s not half as bad as he could be. You’ve seen his friends. The kind of misinformed animals who grope at their girlfriends chests and drool over their backsides — you’d never marry anyone who thought like that. “I should go. I’ll call tomorrow.”

You’re not walking with any kind of urgency after the phone call. You know the time, you’ve just got no real desire to be there. Glossed wood under your fingertips, carefully crafted molding bracketing the ceiling, the floors hardwood and dressed with neat, cream coloured runners.

This place is somewhere you would actually consider staying. A long shot from the dingy hotel back in Turin, this place seems a little out of Bradley’s trip budget. The cream runner is plush enough to pillow the sound of your footsteps, allowing you to pass along the halls almost silently.

Silently enough that you’re able to round a corner and bump almost right into a woman exiting a double-doored suite. You adjust yourself quickly to stop yourself from actually hitting into her, taking a few steps back, blinking as you take in the stunning white of her dress.

It has a deep drape in the middle, revealing deep olive skin, and ends just above the knee, revealing toned long legs. She’s not that tall, just slender enough that she seems longer. Stunning in a way that renders you quiet for a moment.

“Sorry! Didn’t hear you coming, you’re like a little mouse.” She’s smiling at you, and she’s American. Your lips press together into a polite smile.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

Dark brown eyes feel heavy as they start at your heels, powder blue sandal things, then trail your calves, examine the skirt of your dress and take their time roaming upwards. You’ve been looked at like this before, but never by a woman. You squirm under her gaze and force yourself still.

She’s stoic, poised — so classy. You envy her immediately, wondering if her mother was as cruel as yours could be, if it all paid off and that’s why she’s like this now. She doesn’t move and so you don’t either. You mirror her unintentionally. Lips pursed into a soft, polite smile, shoulders squared and spine straight.

“You’re one of Bradley’s students.” She tells you. Not a question by any measure, just an acknowledgment. She doesn’t give you time to answer either. She just tells you your name, then watches the way your face changes to discontentment. “He told me about you.”

If this is supposed to please you, it doesn’t. You know that whatever he has said won’t have been kind. It wasn’t. And yet, Natasha’s smiling at you anyway.

“Walk with me.” It’s an instruction by anyone’s measure, and you comply easily. She’s impressed, but not surprised. She had known from her conversation with Bradley that he must have pissed you off pretty well for you to have lashed out and hit him this morning. Well-reared young ladies aren’t known for socking guys in the nuts.

You’re quiet, pliant — seemingly waiting for some kind of approval from her. She knows that she looks different from Bradley now, that they don’t look like they could have ever loved each other. She wonders if you wrote Bradley off the first time that you looked at him. She wouldn’t blame you if you had; she had too.

He hasn’t ever dressed his age. When she knew him he was primarily shirtless, rarely wearing shoes, usually covered in sand. Some kind of sun kissed, sea-salted teenager who was actually twenty-four. Now that he’s an adult, he still doesn’t dress like an Ivy League professor should.

Bradley hates being told that first impressions matter the most. He thinks it’s bullshit. Every woman who has ever fallen in love with him hadn’t liked him at first glance. Maybe that’s why he’s so laid-back, so aloof.

“He’ll grow on you,” Natasha decides, shoulders straight and her chin pointed in front of her, her hair glossy and falling behind her shoulders. You know immediately that she’s talking about Bradley, you’re just uncertain as to why. She glances across and looks you over once more. “You’ll get used to him, rather. He won’t always be so annoying.”

“How do you two know each other?”

Natasha smiles. Looks across at you, lips quirked like there’s some kind of inside joke on her lips that you aren’t privy to. “Just old friends.”

“Do you work in history too?”

“Don’t call Bradley’s class history,” She corrects you quickly, still smiling. “But, no, actually. My husband and I are in the hotel business. I hear you’re getting married too.”

This brings you to a complete stop. Natasha can see the confusion on your face, standing there and wondering why you could have possibly been the topic of conversation long enough for her to know this.

“Anyway, did he tell you about the trip out to the other side of the lake tomorrow?” And with that, she’s done sharing — and you just have to live with that. It’s a kind of conversational power that you strive to have. You want what she has. Or, in this moment, you believe you do.

She leads you in, but you quickly lose her at the party. It’s hers. You notice this first when you catch glimpses of her shaking hands, like everyone in this room’s just waiting to meet her. Then, you see her picture hung behind the bar. Her and a handsome man with dark hair, their arms around each other and beaming, pictured standing out front.

This place belongs to her and her husband. She must be pretty fond of Bradley to let him come back year after year. You think that now, but you’ll grow to know that that’s not true. She hates him in a way she hopes you’ll never know.

It’s tough, being at a party so similar to the ones you’re used to, and being stuck with people that you truly wouldn’t rescue from a burning building. You sit opposite for a while too long, listening to their boring chatter, sipping on a glass of wine — just the one — you don’t want Natasha to think you’re sloppy.

Then, you make the mistake of speaking up. Just a comment, you barely remember it was, but Robin decides that it was dull. And then, she turns her attention to you.

“Y’know, I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you and Ashworth are getting down and dirty,” She leans back against Luke’s chest and swings her legs across his. He leans in and mumbles something, maybe for her to ease up on you. “I just can’t imagine you…”

Robin trails, then cocks her head like a spaniel. You try to straighten out whatever hurt expression must have given you away, but it’s too late. This was a bad idea, you should be halfway across the room, stuck to Pasquale’s side like a scared child.

She sits up quickly, eyes blowing wide open in excitement, “Holy shit — you’ve never fucked him!”

Quickly, the group acts in unison — a sharp look in her direction, and then their heads whip in your direction. The silence lasts seconds, too long, strange amongst the bustle of the party.

Exactly as fast, you’re sitting there, cursing your father’s name. Surely no grade is worth this ridicule.

Robin leans forwards, lips quirking up into a dimpled grin, “Have you ever fucked anybody?”

“Oh, grow up.” You bite back. They watch as you throw yourself upwards and storm away from them. Their laughter comes in whoops from behind you, you walk as far and as fast as you can until it finally drowns under the music. Out of the events hall, down one of those long, carpted hallways and into double glass doors.

You push at their wood frames and let them clatter shut behind you, stepping out into the fresh, evening air. There’s a chill to it that’s even more sobering than being made fun of by your peers. You cross to the stone railing of the balcony, bracing your palms against it and letting out a deep breath.

Ridiculous, really. That if you’d just laid back and parted your legs for the man you love, or even some loser that may have come before, they think that you would be different somehow. Fucking ridiculous. That she thinks encountering the male form makes her any different from you. You know intimacy. You’ve seen the man that you love cry, you’ve seen him delighted and you know his fear.

All she knows is physicality. That’s the easy part. She knows nothing like the things you know.

Movement in your peripheral breaks you from your grumpy stream of consciousness, making you lift your head and making you privy to a secret that you have absolutely no business knowing.

Bradley and Natasha stand on the balcony opposite you. There are four, bracketing the courtyard below. It’s not well lit out here, but not dark either. You can see them well, illuminated through the glass panes by the hallway light inside.

His hand’s on the back of her thigh, nudging her dress up ever so slightly. It’s not doing anything too incriminating, but for some reason, your brain fills in the blanks for you. You can picture it so clearly. His hand disappearing under that dress, her slender frame fitted against his broader one. Them, together.

Her plump, reddened lips parted and breathing his name. His brows knitted together, cheeks flushed and his skin hot, blushing and stretched taut across his muscles.

Briefly, your brain reminds you of where you are, and who this is — and what you’re seeing, and you almost move. Like cement has dried around your ankles, you’re stuck there, half perched behind a stone pillar, eyes trained in on the view seriously.

You think of her husband. You think of yours. You could never betray Malcolm like this. The elegant, intelligent woman from the hallway earlier fades in your mind like red wine splattered on a white rug. She’s not who you thought she was. He’s exactly as awful as you’d hoped he would be.

Just wait until the Dean hears what Bradley gets up to on these trips.

His other hand abandons her hip, coming up to clasp firmly around the nape of her neck. There’s a sharp, strong tug and she’s closer, his tongue is in her mouth and she hums against his lips.

You’re so caught up in him for a moment that your eyes almost forget to follow the movement. You’ve thought about this before. How Malcolm would touch you. If he would be gentlemanly and slow, or brash and sudden. If his fingers would sprawl the length of your nape like Bradley’s do hers, extending up into her dark roots and curling deeply into a fist.

Finally, you blink and catch the movement. Her manicured, slim fingers trailing downwards along the blue striped shirt covering his stomach, onto the khaki of his shorts. Her fingers extend and curl too, and suddenly you’re much more of a voyeur than you had intended to be. She squeezes her hand around the length of his manhood and you instinctively take a step back.

And yet — you can’t look away. It’s shameful to realise that you’re more intrigued by what’s before you than you had thought you would be.

All of those deep kisses, crawling into Malcolm’s lap, letting his hands explore under your shirt — nothing has felt quite as scandalous as this. Your eyes are fixated on her hand, on the outline through his shorts and the groan that she draws from his throat.

It moves forwards like a routine, he presses her backwards into the wall and pushes his hips forwards into her palm. As this happens, as her back touches the stone, they’re interrupted. Abruptly, enough fo make them pull away like they’ve been shocked by static. Not by you.

Abigail twists the handle on their side and swings the door open, flushed and stumbling. You had been looking right that way and hadn’t even noticed her rushing down the hall. “Bradley!”

Bradley turns and looks at her quickly, putting some distance between himself and Natasha. The moment has passed and been forgotten, both of them appear to be watching Abigail at first, concern coating their warmed features.

“Zoey’s throwing up.” She hiccups at the end and wobbles. Bradley takes a moment to just stare. Each year he regrets not making this a seniors only opportunity, and winds up dealing with some nineteen year old who got fucked up on cheap wine.

The vein in his throat strains. Perhaps embarrassment, from almost being caught. Shame, from kissing the girl he has tried to stay away from for almost a decade now. Frustration, from how badly he had wanted to go further.

The chill has disappeared now. You’re not cold anymore. You’re warm. You’re glad that you don’t flush the way that he does, or you’d be given away. Eyes on you, it’s a distinct feeling — especially when that person is staring. If your skin flushed half as much as Bradley’s does, Natasha would know just how badly you had wanted to keep watching.

Curiosity, you tell yourself. It’s just something new, exciting. It’s not the way his hands flexed in her hair, the way his jaw ticks now as he tries not to look at her again.

Natasha stares across at you, standing still, almost as statuesque as the pillar beside you. She knows that you just saw that entire thing. She glances across at Bradley, and finds that your eyes have widened when she looks back at you again. Her reddened lips quirk as Bradley rushes away from her, amused by you and the scared little look on your face. You think she’s going to tell him that you were watching.

Then, you straighten out your features and lean your palms forwards, calm. You’re going to tell her husband. Her smile just grows. You’re so much like her.

Bradley spends his evening arguing with one of Natasha’s employees about the cleaning fee for the stained carpet, and routinely checking on Zoey to make sure she’s sobering up.

Natasha’s on his mind the entire time. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over it. He’s still so angry with her. He feels it in the way that she kisses that she’s still pissed off at him too.

By the time he’s headed to bed, it’s almost three, and his mood is plummeting. His hand curls around the handle and he pushes the door to his room open, freezing in the doorway.

“Luke! God fucking damnit!”

Luke scrambles, knees slipping against the sheets as he tries to cover both himself and Robin. He’s over her, they’re both clearly naked — Bradley has already turned his head away, trying not to scream.

“Shit, I — I waited til 2am, and you hadn’t come back to I figured—“

Bradley doesn’t give him a chance to finish, slamming the wooden door shut again. He stands there in the hall, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, trying not to lose his shit.

Natasha’s probably wrapped up in her husband’s arms, secure in the knowledge that she made the right decision — that Bradley wasn’t ever going to give her this.

He glances from one end of the hall to the other, his gaze landing on the room next door. Pulling the master key Natasha graced him with, on the condition that he wouldn’t abuse his power, from his pocket, he turns and lets himself into your room.

You bolt upright in bed. It’s dark, so really he can only see your silhouette. He waves you off and closes the door behind him. It’s not like you don’t know what’s going on next door, you’ve heard every squeak of the mattress for the past twenty minutes.

“Don’t say a damn word, Mrs. Ashworth. I’m going to sleep, and in the morning, every single one of you owes me an apology.”

“You can’t just—“

He stops walking and even through the dark, you can feel the seriousness in his stare. He unbuttons his shirt and kicks off his shoes, then slips into the other twin bed.

Silent, laying on your back, you allow yourself one glance over at him. His bare shoulders, chest, extended from the blankets. He’s still wearing his shorts. You swallow softly, thinking about Natasha’s hands on him earlier, the way he’d pushed so eagerly into his touch.

“Stop staring at me.” Bradley tells you sternly.

“I wasn’t!” You bite back, turning sharply away from him and pulling your covers up to your ears. The second that your eyes are closed, all you can see is his hand inching up under her dress once again. You sigh. “It’s not my fault that Luke’s getting laid and you’re not.”

Bradley doesn’t answer.

…

@thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @cherrycola27 @sugarcoated-lame

[bisexualbrainrots]

Okay so I didn't expect to be so inspired by this post (plus my tags), but hey, what a hiatus does to someone right? @unfuckablebogtroll thanks for the inspo!

So, here's a snippet of whatever this will be (haven't finished outlining the whole story yet) also I know nothing about how social workers work in the us, so i just did a lot of google searches to write this, let's suspend our disbelief lmao:

“I’m here to inform you that from now on your son, Scott Howards, is going to be legally put under your care and will be moved into your residency, we have made an extensive background check…”

Buck wasn’t really paying attention anymore, two words running through his mind.

Your son.

Your son. 

“What do you mean son?” he had just interrupted the social worker and yet, she didn’t seem so taken aback by his clear state of shock.

“We tried to contact you these past few days, didn’t you receive our calls and email?” 

That made him immediately go back and look for his phone, quickly checking everything as he went back to the front door.

Three missed calls and an email sent yesterday. They weren’t wrong, but why did it feel like they were?

“Okay… but I don’t know anything about a kid, wh-who is the mother and why am I supposed to keep him now?” 

Tara explained it all, as quickly as she could, while still keeping a soothing tone in her voice. She clearly had experience in working with situations like this one, or at least some similar, based on how calmly she explained that the mother, some woman named Jessica Howards, passed away a couple of weeks ago and that there was no immediate family that could take care of Scott. The grandparents had passed away two years ago and Jessica didn’t have any siblings that could take care of the kid, so the next (or first really) on the list had to be the biological father.

Evan Buckley was a mess. Nothing in his brain was really computing, not even when the social worker told him about the boy, a six and a half year old kid who despite being named Scott, everyone just called Scotty.

“I-I…” 

“I’m sorry but, how did you find Evan? And where exactly is the kid now?” Tommy had taken the lead, something he knew by now to do whenever Buck’s brain was being useless. He held his hand, rubbing his thumb against some of the knuckles in an effort of grounding Buck, which worked slowly.

“We found a letter in her belongings, it was apparently never sent but dated back to 2018, probably around the time Jessica found out she was pregnant. We also had to do some digging based on the information and found his social media which, well, led us to this moment” she sounded exhausted, it probably took them a lot of hours to even find who Evan was, it was something Tommy could respect, that level of dedication. “And Scotty… he’s actually here, I brought him in the car, you don’t have to worry about much since he had a nap today and we explained all of this to him as best as we could. He also has his own blanket and favorite toy with him, it’s been really helpful to calm him down”

Tara mentioned the documents she had in hand and that seemed to snap something in the couple’s heads. They’d been so shocked at the news they didn’t notice the bundle of papers she carried. Tara once again explained everything thoroughly, that those were all the legalities Buck had to sign in order to be granted guardianship of Scotty, and asked if they could get inside to sign papers and let the boy inside the house.

Tommy nodded and took the lead again, telling Buck to get inside with Tara while he would check on the kid. Tara agreed, stepping inside with Buck who guided her towards the dining table, while Tommy stepped into the social worker’s car.