#liam how much do i have to pay for you to call me baby? just once? 🥺

[httpiastri]

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

this actually might be one of the best pictures in my life….. i will forever cherish it and- he’s just so 😭😭 and as if this pic wasn’t enough….

“baby?” PLEASE HELP ME

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[buckysdoll1520]

“No!” I yell cutting him of “you don’t get to fucking blow up on me when I come down here asking if you ok that’s not how this fucking works!” you yelled, the stress from the ordeal upstairs and now him blowing up on you like that had caused a split to start. “Y/n-”Jasper start to speak. “No fuck you!” You we’re beyond pissed, when you had a your mood could go from 0-1000 really quickly.

You turn away going to open the door that when back in to the house he tried to grab you’re arm to talk to you and turn around to yell back in response. “Don’t fucking touch me right now!” you continued through the door up the stairs going to the living room.

Once in the living room you see Esme holding Liam on her knee on the couch. “Are you alright?” Esme asked in her sweet mothery tone. “Um y-yeah I’m fine,um Esme do you think it would be alright if you watched him while I run to the dollar store really quick?” You asked rushed want to get out of the house to cool off and probably have a bit of a meltdown in the car. “Yes absolutely, take as long as you need dear” Esme said sweetly, because little know to you she and everyone else had heard your and Jaspers argument. “Ok thank you I’ll be back in a few minutes” you said as you walked down the steps to get the front door. You quickly put on your shoes and grabbing a jacket and Jasper car keys, you walked out.

Once you got in the car you turned it and plugged up your phone to the cars smart stereo. You selected your $uicideBoy$ playlist and turned up the volume until it drowned out your inner voice that kept telling you were a bad person, a bad girlfriend and a horrible mom and that you should just disappear and that jasper was probably gonna breakup with you and you would have to move out of the Cullens house and move back in with your dad and not have a car again. Soon the voice got to much and you pulled over to the side of the road and put on your flashers. You sat there for a good hour-hour and a half before stopping crying screaming/yelling and banging your hands against the steering wheel out of anger and frustration.

After completing calming down you looked at the time releasing how long you had actually been gone and started to wonder if anyone had texted,because you had put your phone on dnd. So you picked it up out of the cup holder and turned down your music a bit. When you looked at your phone you saw the Jasper had called you 15 times and text 25 text messages.

You sighed let out a whispered “fuck…FUCK!”, you put your phone back into its resting place, and begin to pull out, once you pulled out you cut off your flashers and headed to the dollar store. As you pull in to the parking lot,you to a couple deep breaths and flip your visor down to make sure you looked ok-ish. Once in the dollar store you couldn’t help but stroll into the baby section looking at all the cute onesies,toys, blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. You’re heart ached at the fact you only had 15$ in your wallet, even though Carlisle and Esme had both told you they didn’t care to pay for things for the baby, you were hesitant…only because you hated taking money and help from other people.

So you bought Liam new pack of pacifiers, a bib and a stuffed chicken. The bib was blue and had a giraffe on it, the pacifiers had stars and moons on them, and the chicken was well, a stuffed chicken. You payed for everything and headed to the car. Once you get settled in the car you headed back to the Cullens house. As you pulled in the driveway you saw Jasper was on his balcony with a sour look on his face.

When you walked the door you could hear Edward laughing at Rosalie, he always laughs at her when she baby talks with Liam. It wasn’t necessary but you announced your self “I’m home!” You yelled in a sing songy voice as you laid the keys in to the dish they rested in, and taking off your shoes and coat. Walking up the stairs you heard Liam squealing out in laughter, “hey bubby, mommy got you some stuff at the store” you said in baby voice with a smile on your face. “Has he ate yet, I left a bottle in the fridge?” You asked Esme. “Uh yeah Jasper feed him a few minutes ago” she said almost hesitated to mention his name. “Ok,um..where is Jasper?” You asked looking around not seeing him anywhere. “He’s up your guys room, he’s stayed up there for a while until Liam started crying when he got hungry.” Edward said coldly, as if I had taken too long or it was an inconvenience that Liam was here and he has gotten fussy.

“Ok, I’m gonna go talk to him about earlier. Rose do you have him?” I asked. “Yeah I’ve got him take as long as you guys need” she said with a smile.

Once you got up stairs you stared at your and jasper’s bedroom door for a good five minutes, there were a million thoughts run through you head, he’s gonna break up with you, he’s gonna yell…he could hit you like your ex used to…you felt sick, you felt bile rise in your throat, burning it. You swallowed heavily and finally knocked on the door, you heard a low “come in.” You walked in the door pressing your back against it to try and ground yourself. “Jas-” “Don’t..”he cut you off before you could even get his name out. He spoke in a rushed tone as if he was holding his voice back, he stood on the balcony looking at the sky. “Do you know how worried I was!? You were gone for over 2 hours, I thought something happened the only reason I didn’t go looking for you is because of Liam!” He finally spoke clearly but when he did it came out in a yell.

You felt tears brim you’re eyes you’re nose started to burn, and you’re throat went dry. When you went to speak the words wouldn’t form all that was a sob. It sounded as if the air was trapped in your lungs. “I-I know I’m sorry, just get it over with…please I want to go see Liam, an-and Edward is already pissed at me,cause the baby was fussy a-and I known I’m a bad girlfriend and a bad mom and I’ma-shitty p-person all around! I’m sorry just get it over with please.” You stuttered and rambled out as tears streamed down your face and as you finished your sentence you began to slide down the door and started to hyperventilate. “I know I’m a pain in the ass a-and I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I know you could do so much better, you could have someone that’s skinny and pretty like Bella o-or Alice!” When you continued on your rant Jasper’s mood changed quickly.

He rushed over to you as you sat with your back against the door banging you head against it trying to stop the yelling in your head, that little voice in your head that told you Liam deserved better, that he deserved a mother like Esme or Rosalie that was put together and had it all figured out. “Sugar look at me, please come on don’t do that you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Jasper spoke in a soft sweet tone, putting his hands behind your head to soften the blows you were giving yourself as you hit you head. “No! Why aren’t you screaming or hitting me? Get mad! Get mad at me Damnit!” you screamed through your tears. As you screamed the last part you hit his chest as hard as you could. “D-do something…tell ho-how I’m a bad mom o-or, how I’m never gonna be good enough for you, or you’re fucking perfect family!”

Sobs shook your body as jasper looked at you as if he didn’t hear you. “Look at me…please doll look at me.” He begged you as you sobbed hanging your head low, picking at the skin around your fingers. You finally shook your head, so you had left him no choice. He pulled you into his lap as he sat in the floor beside you. “Baby…I need you to look at me…please” he said softly with is thick Southern draw. Jasper sat there for what felt like an eternity, before he realized that you were shutting down. His worst nightmare was coming true he was losing you. He couldn’t lose you. He pressed pressed a firm kiss on your hair line, as he mumbled in to your hair line. “Doll please don’t shut me out. I can’t loose you y/n,I can’t” As he spoke softly you could hear his voice breaking at the end of his sentence.

Jasper sat with you straddling his thighs for almost two and a half hours. You head was against his chest, your breathing had finally calmed down. Jasper’s hands ran up and down your sides and back. You still refused to look at him. “Hey darling, you still with me?” Jasper questioned slowly stopping his hands. You shook your head in to his chest. “Alright, do you want to talk?” Jasper asked hesitantly. You shook your head,feeling tear prick your eyes once more.

Then Jaspers phone vibrated against the floor where it sat beside you both. He leaned to pick it up from its resting place. It was a message from Esme.

Esme :Liam is asleep if you want to come get him or I could bring him upstairs but if you and Y/n aren’t done talking then I keep him down here with me and Carlisle.

Jasper sat his phone back on “Do you want me to go get the baby and bring him up here or do you want to leave down there while we talk?” Jasper asked as he began running his hands down your sides again. “Can you bring him up here.” You said in a scratchy voice, from all the crying and yelling. “Ok,I’ll be right back darling,you want anything from downstairs?”

This is my teaser let me know what y’all think !

[the-froschamethyst4]

My wife’s the boss

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, language, married couple, mentions of children, drinking, mentions of smoking, jealous, flirting, pregnancy,

𖤐Summary: The Team likes to tease their Captain John Price on how whipped he is for his wife

————

————

"Do you guys think Y/n wears the pants in hers and Price's marriage?" Soap asked as they all looked at Price outside the bar cigar in between his finger and he was talking on the phone to whom?

His wife.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ghost asked.

"Well, he doesn't seem like he's arguing with her...he seems calm-oh smirking, he's smirking, he's flirting with her," Gaz says, the guys all looked at Gaz on who the hell he knows that. "What? I took some body language classes in college, leave me alone," he says, sipping from his glass.

"I wonder what he's saying to flirt with her?" Soap said.

"You guys are so fucking nosy it's embarrassing," Kate says as she came back from the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, wanna bet?"

"With you? No fucking chance," she says, sipping from her glass.

"Oh shut up, he's coming back."

"No one was talking about him," Ghost says as Price opened the door to the bar placing his phone in his pocket and paying for his tap.

"Gotta head out."

"What why?"

"The missus wants me home," he says as he thanked the bartender.

"What?" Soap groans.

"We just started having fun, Captain."

"Have fun without me, my wife needs me right now," Price says as he called for a cab and went home.

-----

Y/n sat on the nice white couch watching TV a bag of Cheetos between her thighs, a glass of apple juice on the coffee table in front of her, and a bowl of popcorn on her right side.

She was craving every single one of these.

She was also watching a sad romcom.

"I love you...always and forever-" the TV says.

"LIAR!!" She throws popcorn at the TV.

"My love?" She heard Price come in from the front door.

"Oh hi, baby," she said, looking over the couch. She rubs her big belly and looked back at her TV. "What a cheat."

"Huh?" Price sat next to her, he knows not to touch her snacks, so he got his own snacks.

"Oh this prick, he cheated on his wife and claims to love her," Y/n says.

"Haven't you watched this before?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, don't you know that already?" She just shrugs at him.

"I like this movie," she says, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"I know, my love," he says, rubbing her belly and placing his head on her stomach, the baby was moving around.

"He's been kicking so much," she says.

"I bet...hey now...stop hurting your mama, she needs to rest, she can't if you keep kicking her in the ribs," Price says. She giggles at him.

"He doesn't listen."

"Yeah, well that just shows he's my son."

"Oh I know that, you are stubborn as a mule," she giggles.

-------

Price held Y/n stomach as she placing dirty clothes in the washing machine. Price was also just naming off some names for the little baby.

"Tony."

"Tony? No," she says.

"Liam."

"Maybe."

"Ian."

"Hm~"

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking...Hudson or Beau."

"I like Beau...Beau Hudson Price," John says.

"I love it," Y/n says, turning and kissing his jawline. Y/n smiled as Price had picked up her belly from behind. She lets out a soft moan as the heavy weight was lifted off from her front.

"Thank you, I need that."

"Anything, for the woman carrying my baby," he says as he then gently brought the weight back on.

She lets out a soft groan.

-------

Price was off to work putting on his favorite bucket hat and making sure he has all of his gear before heading out. He looks at the master bed and saw how peaceful Y/n looked while she was sleeping.

She just have the covers on her body, unfortunately none of her usual pajama fit her so she resorted into wearing either his clothes or half naked.

"Price," she rolls over not feeling him next to her, John stopped and rushed to her side.

"Hey, I'm here, is everything okay?" He says, cupping her face and brushing a piece of her hair from her face.

"Yes, I'm fine," she sits up and the blanket just falls off her shoulder exposing her black bra and he can barely see the matching black panties. "I was just seeing if you were gone."

"Not yet, my love," Price says, kissing her lips. "You look so sexy," he says, kissing her neck and then her chest.

"Price, you need to get going for work."

"It's okay," he says kissing her neck again. "God, if you weren't pregnant I'd take you right here and right now."

"Then why not?"

"Because I don't want to tire yourself out," he says. "I'm off, okay."

"Okay, be safe," he kissed her lips.

-------

As Price left Y/n waddled back to her bathroom, her little baby has been sitting on her bladder all day long. She's been to the bathroom around 13 different times since Price had left.

She at the this point just sits in the bathroom on the edge of the tub just waiting for it to happen.

"Come on, baby, I have things I need to get done around the house. I need to get your nursery ready, can I work?" She asked, rubbing her big belly. She slowly stood up and she didn't feel anything. "Thank you, baby," she mumbles.

Y/n had ordered somethings online without Price's acknowledge and had came in a few weeks ago, she had to hide them so she could be able to put them up.

She likes Price's help and all but sometimes, she wants to do everything for once.

She had order pictures online of cute wild animals, Price and Y/n had gone with a gender neutral themed nursery for the baby, even way before knowing the baby was a boy.

Now that they decided on the name Beau, Y/n was ordering some letters to hang up over Beau's crib.

She grabs a small step ladder and started to hang up the pictures, making sure they're even and straight. She steps off and looks at the photos.

"Perfect," she says.

As she takes her photo off the baby's changing table to take a photo and send it to Price.

My Love: Look what I did

Price: I wish you waited till I got home to help

My Love: It's okay, I got it under control, I also ordered some letters to put above his crib, you can help with that

Price: Okay, I hope you were careful

My Love: I was

"Price you want to come and start training the rookies?" Ghost called.

"I'm coming, just had to see what my love sent me," he says, placing his phone back into his pocket.

"Here we go, whipped Price with his wife."

"Yeah, I love my wife, she's my everything and she is my pride and joy, AND she's carrying my child, of course I'm going to be 'whipped' for her. You'd be too if someone was carrying your child," Price says as Soap, Ghost and Price all stood in front of the new recruits.

Price crossed his arms over his chest as he listened to Ghost yell at the recruits and Soap clapped his hands to get the recruits to move faster through the course.

Price felt his phone buzz and he looks down seeing that Y/n had sent him a new message. He opened it and saw it was her in front of her full body mirror in his old dark green Military shirt with Task Force 141's logo on the front.

Her big belly in view and her hand just under her belly. She wasn't wearing any shorts.

Price: How do you always look so good?

My Love: Because I am 8 months pregnant and I have that pregnancy glow

Price: Yeah, that's true *I do want to kiss your body*

My Love: Maybe when I'm not pregnant, I'm too sensitive

"PRICE!" Ghost yells, Price lifted his head from his phone and looked at Ghost and Soap.

--------

Y/n was back on the couch sliced apples on a plate in her hands, orange juice sitting on the coffee table, and a peanut butter jar sitting on the little table next to the couch.

"God I feel fat-"

"Don't say that, my love."

"Price, you're home too early."

"I know, I wanted to come home early and spend time with you." He drops his gear at the door and placed his bucket hat on the coat rack by the front door.

Y/n placed the plate on the coffee table. She stood up and walked to him. His hands went around her waist and kissed her lips.

"You taste like peanut butter," he chuckles and then down to her belly.

"I was eating apples and peanut butter," she says with a smile.

"Was it good?"

"Yep, the apples were juicy and so sweet," she says.

Price bent down on his knees and kissed her belly. "I can't wait for him to finally be here."

"I can't wait till he stops sitting on my bladder," she says.

"Bet that was fun?"

"I hated every minute of it but I love my baby," she says, her hands went to Price's hair.

-------

After some time, Y/n was sitting in a bubble bath, Price was sitting behind her washing her body or caressing her stomach.

"You do look so fucking gorgeous," he mumbles in her neck, gently kissing her neck. "You wanna know what Ghost and Soap told me today?"

"What?" She asked, leaning back into his touch.

"When we were training the new recruits and when you showed me the photo of you in the full body mirror, they had asked if they wanted to go for drinks afterwards. I told them no because I wanted to get back home to you and spend my time with you. They said that you must be my boss or something because of me always wanting to come home to you, and I was like damn straight," He chuckles. "My wife is the boss and that's why I love her," he kissed her neck.

"Price, you should at least hang out with them at some point."

"I always hung out with them before you got pregnant, I want to spend my time with you before Beau's born," he says, kissing her neck. "And my time will be towards you and Beau, I'll only be able to hang out with the guys every now and then."

Y/n and Price had gotten out of the bath, he wraps her body in a towel and she walks out of the bathroom to Price's closet.

"I like you better when you sleep naked," he smirks. His hands went to her waist and pulling her back against his hard chest. His hands started to unwrap her towel from her chest and letting it fall on the ground.

"As long as you join me?"

"You know, I will," he says, dropping his towel.

--------

A Month Later

Y/n was having a hard time getting out of bed without almost falling because of how weak she felt. Price stayed home ever since she said she could barely move.

Price was by her side taking one step at a time, the doctor had told them both to keep moving around to make sure the baby be ready in time and so Y/n won't be in so much pain.

"W-Wait, hang on," she stops and leans on the back of the couch trying to catch her breath. Price's hand went to her back.

"Deep breaths, my love," Price says, rubbing her back, her eyes closed like she was in more pain than before.

"My knees hurt, my legs hurt, my whole body hurts, this moving around...doesn't feel like it's working," she cries.

"Aww my love, it's okay," he says.

"Price, I just want to go to the hospital already."

"We can, I'll get everything ready you just relax on the couch okay?"

"Okay."

Price was getting the hospital bag ready and getting some fresh new clothes for the both of them, and maybe some baby clothes.

“Price.”

“Hold on, my love, where are the-oh found them.”

“Price.”

“Okay, and that’s all, yes my love?”

“My water broke.”

“What?”

[jmagnabo92]

Sailing To Freedom - Ch 11 - The LEAK

@aroyallybigbangrwrb

As Alex and Henry go into more than a week without service, someone leaks their emails leaving the White House to make a decision without the boys' consent.

AO3

***

September 27th, 2020

It’s early morning when Alex and Henry sit at in the seats at the back of the boat watching as the crew prepare to leave the dock.  They’ll be drifting off to sea in a moment for at least eight days, if they don’t stop and enjoy the water along the way.

Casablanca hadn’t exactly been their best stop, mainly because the chaos has hit them head on, but Alex knows that the second they leave, his mom wouldn’t have a chance to change her mind anymore since Liam and Pez will begin their plans to correct the narrative. 

It’s not like he thought that she would change her mind in twenty-four hours, but it’s entirely possible that sleeping on it could’ve changed her mind…

He shakes his head, that’s a little too optimistic even for him. 

“Are you alright?” Henry asks, squeezes his hand and gaining his attention.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Alex answers. 

“You’re not a very good liar – I am truly surprised that anyone believed our ‘friendship’ during that weekend where were decidedly not friends yet – so, do you want to attempt that, again?”

“It’s stupidly optimistic.”

“That sounds like the Alex I know and love,” Henry teases.  He nudges him with his elbow.  “Now, tell me, anyway.”

Alex rolls his eyes.  “The second we leave the dock, there’s no turning back.  She can’t change her mind about things…”

“You think she might?”

“I told you it was stupidly optimistic.”

“Do you have any idea how many times that I hoped for my mum to come around again?  To storm the queen’s chambers and defend her children’s right to be who they truly are?  It’s all I dreamt about for ages after my Gran sat me down and told me that I would not be allowed to be gay, that anyone that I was with would have to sign extensive NDAs and I would have a minimum number of dates with acceptable women every year?”  Henry gives him a soft smile.  “It’s natural to want our mums to be thinking of us rather than themselves – especially when the world is against us…”

Alex nods.  It’s nice to know that Henry doesn’t think it’s wrong of him to be hopeful for a change of heart from his mom.

“Yet, I know deep down that she won’t.  So, it’s … entirely stupid.”

“We don’t have to leave just yet, if you want to – to try again…”

Alex knows that Henry hadn’t even thought that the initial conversation was a good idea, thinking that it’d been obvious that his mother was going to do what was best for the campaign over Alex’s wishes. 

Yet, here he is offering to postpone their plan just because Alex isn’t ready to let go of the hope that his mom will change her mind…

“I love you, so so much,” Alex states, lifting their clasped hands to kiss the back of Henry’s hand.  “But postponing our trip and our plan has already been done before – we were supposed to go nuclear when we got to Casablanca, but really, we should’ve been paying attention immediately after the phone call about the photo.  Maybe if we had called back instead of going on a cell phone/internet blackout…”

“Hey, this – what has happened to us – it’s not our fault.  All we wanted to do was act like any other twenty-somethings and love each other in the open,” Henry states.  “I’ve spent so long in the closet that I never believed I could have this, but now that I do, I am able to recognize that we are not the problem.  Our wishes should’ve been respected, it’s not our fault that we did not doubt it enough to call back and make sure that they didn’t do what they did do.”

Alex shakes his head.  “I know that.  That wasn’t where I was going with it, exactly.  I was just saying that we postponed before, and we need to do this now.”

“As long as you’re sure that you want to go ahead with it.”

“I am.  Let’s do this, baby.”

***

June wakes to utter chaos.  She’s not sure what’s going on, all she knows is that it’s 3AM and there’s noise throughout the White House much more than there should be given the time of morning it is. 

Knowing that something big is going on, she just pulls on her robe when Zahra comes bursting into the room.  “Call your brother!”

“Why?  What’s going on?”

“Just call him and come with me.”

Trying to make sense of everything, June immediately calls him, but the call goes straight to voicemail.  She calls again and again until they reach the Oval Office where her mother’s looking a little worse for wear and not at all happy. 

“Did you get him?”

“Straight to voicemail, he’s probably out to sea with no service.”

“Damnit.”

“What’s going on?” June asks, but before she could get a response her phone rings.

She looks down hoping it’ll be Alex, but it’s Bea flashing across the screen.

“Bea?”

“Have you seen the papers this morning?”

“No…” she says, slowly as she begins looking for any sign of what’s going on here.  That’s when she spots it. 

The front page of the paper with the blazing headline:

BREAKING: Emails Reveal Romantic Relationship Between FSOTUS and Prince Henry.  Confirmation of lies by FDOTUS and VP Granddaughter clear as day.

***

THE ORAL OFFICE: READ FSOTUS’ STEAMY EMAILS TO PRINCE HENRY.

***

25 GIFs That Perfectly Describe Our Reaction When We Heard About FSOTUS & Prince Henry’s Emails. 

***

Photos Of Their Romantic Vacation Align with The Email Proof.  Turns out FSOTUS & Prince Henry may have been cheating on each other with VP Granddaughter and FDOTUS.

***

White House Stays Silent as More Details Pour in Suggesting the Real Relationship Coverup This Year Was FSOTUS and Prince Henry. 

***

“Well, shit.”

“Guess you saw.”

“Is it – everything or just…”

“Everything, June.  There’s a lot there,” Bea states, sounding heartbroken.  “I’m not calling because I give a damn about what the Monarchy or White House want to do – have you heard from either of them?”

“Not a word.  I called but straight to voicemail,” June states.  “They said they were headed out to Barbados; they might already be out at sea.”

“That’s what I was worried about.  I don’t want them blindsided by this when they make landfall.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about that.”

“Yeah, but we can make sure there aren’t any more lies.”

June looks up at her mother, conversing with her advisors and thinks about Alex’s determination to come out and be out and proud with Henry.  “Yeah, you’re right about that.  No more lies.”

***

There’s a part of Ellen that knows June’s right.  At this point, it’s pretty clear what Alex and the prince want, but she knows with all of the lies they’ve already made that it’s just too late to try and correct now.  All that would do is make her campaign go down the drain – after all, who would trust her as president for a second term if she admits to these lies?  The voters would naturally wonder what else she’s lying about.

Having her own children lie about who they’re dating, the evidence in the emails that she fired her son and locked him away in his room, and the fact that he practically ran away just to be with the prince … it’s not just lies that are the problem, the actions her actions – as Alex pointed out – seem rather homophobic. 

It looks like she discovered her son was with a man and locked him away like many conservatives would do.  Considering that it’s exactly the type of rhetoric that Richards is spewing (locking them away so that they can’t ‘affect’ ‘normal’ people), and he’s already using it against her – claiming that her ‘progressive’ stance is just ‘words’ and clearly not her true stance given what she’s done to her son, that’s exactly what it looks like – that she’s a conservative in progressive clothing.  That she’s secretly homophobic and Alex’s retreat into the arms of his boyfriend was a direct result of her unacceptance.    

So, even as she reads and sees just how deeply Alex loves Henry, enough that she should’ve planned for a narrative to allow them to come out rather than this forced out situation, she knows that they have to maintain the lie.  It’s better if Alex is straight and just hanging out with his best friend to get away from the stress of the campaign – being a little flirty as is his nature, but not bi or into Henry. 

She tunes out the various people suggesting that they frame this as Richards or someone else trying to make her (and the Monarchy) look bad by faking these love-letter type emails and how best to swing Alex and Henry’s ship vacation. 

This is the only option.  The best option. 

Alex will eventually forgive her, she hopes.

***

“Fuck,” June says, as she gets back to her room.  Despite her best efforts, she knew the second that she saw Zahra’s face and Ellen listening intently that she wouldn’t get a chance to get passed ‘admit the truth’ before Ellen shut her down.

They decided the best course of action was to completely deny everything in those emails.  Claim that some hacker decided to fake the emails to make it seem like Ellen had made her children lie about who they were dating. 

Richards had already picked up the potential thread with regards to the situation and had gone full-out with declaring that Ellen had an ethical conundrum on her hands with Alex ‘sexing up’ the Prince, convincing her daughter to lie to cover for his ‘deviances’ and suggesting by covering it up that she wasn’t the ally she claimed she was or she wouldn’t have ‘locked up’ Alex after they got discovered at the DNC.

Ellen had immediately fired back with claiming that Richards had faked the emails to discredit her and her ability to lead or keep to her promises.  Declaring that she is the ally that she’s always been, and she would never lock up her son for his interests.  The blame landing on Richards went well with pairing it with his history of ‘lock them up and throw away the key’ and Ellen’s history of ‘it doesn’t matter who you love, you’re never lesser for your interests’. 

There was an entire war going on right now in an impromptu debate – articles being written, people tweeting and accusing and it’s a hot mess despite the leak only being eight hours previously. 

How was she supposed to fix this mess? 

If she sent out her own conflicting messages about the situation it would hurt her mother’s campaign, but she can’t let her mother’s campaign negatively affect Alex this way either.  Plus, she can’t imagine what is going to happen when he discovers what happened.

Having his private thoughts meant only for his lover broadcast to the world?  It’s a mess.  It’s beyond a mess. 

He shouldn’t have to deal with this, and their mother shouldn’t be denying the truth.

What the hell is the matter with her mother?  And what is she going to do now?

Deciding that she needs to figure this all out and Nora’s not answering, she decides to call Liam.  He’s the only other one on Alex’s side right now, and despite the fact that she’s only ever seen him as her baby brother’s best friend, she knows that this is one thing that they could talk about without Alex.

“June,” Liam says, sounding tired.  “I can’t believe some asshat did this to Alex and what the hell is wrong with your ma?  Who lies about this?  Unless Alex – but that doesn’t sound like him after our talk the other day…”

“Alex is in the middle of the ocean right now,” June says, tiredly.  “The Leak happened after they must’ve left port.  I don’t know what to do.  I tried to convince them that they’re being ridiculous – it’s bad enough this happened because Richards sensed something was wrong with Alex when he suddenly got fired and disappeared – but to lie about it?  Just admit what we did and –”

“You know that she won’t, don’t you?”

“Because a president that is a liar isn’t good for office?”

“No because she’ll alienate all those that fall under the LGBTQ+ banner… every person that voted for her the first time has to be questioning if she’s actually an ally or not.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that she isn’t.”  He pauses.  “Even knowing better, I have to wonder if she’s the progressive enough to accept it as long as it’s not her kid.”

“LIAM!”

“What?  You’re not questioning it?  Her first response was to fire him and lock him up.  Well, actually, her response was to make a PowerPoint about the ‘ethical issues’ as if that really matters when you consider the fact those issues don’t exist with YOU dating him.  Then, after crossing all of the Ts and dotting all of the Is, she fired him and locked him up.  As if he couldn’t even do appearances and all he had were Henry’s emails, which are now shared with the world…”

June groans.  “God, you’re so right.  That’s the real reason she can’t admit it… it looks horrible.”

“On the other hand, she could have possibly tried and swing it in her favor, but it’s too late now.  She already claimed that Richards or his supporters did this.”

“So, what do we do?  I mean besides try and find them on the boat and let them know what happened?”

“We have to follow through with what they asked us to do.  This changes nothing, except that your ma is going to look bad, but honestly, June, so many people already don’t believe it.  Some are still stuck on ‘Alex is a dirty rotten cheater corrupting the oh-so-innocent prince’ but let’s be real, these emails… there’s no doubting the love in between the lines.”

“You’ve read them, then?”

“Not all, but enough.  It’s not easy to avoid them.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe someone did this to them.”

“At least they’re peacefully in the dark at the moment.”

“Until they make landfall.”

“Maybe we can fix it by then.  It’s at least a week…”

June’s not very optimistic about that, but it is some comfort that at least they’re blissfully unaware, but for how long…

[ginnyrules27]

Alright ya’ll, people asked to read this so here you go! The short story that I wrote (for a grade mind you) that after researching to make sure I was being authentic (as I am half Irish on my father’s side and I’d done a historical short story about my heritage on my mom’s side the previous year), my professor gave me an ‘F’ and called me ‘racist’. Killed any want or need to write for the rest of the year too--had I not worked at Disney and discovered Descendants, the Choosing series might never have been born. 

You hear that Professor? You almost killed one of my popular fanfiction series before I even knew it’d be a thing! 

As I said before, concrit is welcomed -- just be gentle! I literally wrote this the night before it was due so I know there’re some issues :D 

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

A Day In 1897

Erin sighed as she shifted into her chair. Liam’s letter said that he would be home around nine, however the chimes from the town clock signaling nine o’clock had come and gone, and yet Liam still wasn’t home. The other lodgers who shared the tenement with them had fallen asleep hours ago, shifting on the makeshift mattresses of straw and blankets to make the stone floor a little more comfortable.

As the town clock struck twelve, the door opened with a loud creak; something that Erin feared would wake the others. However, they just turned in their sleep—oblivious to the world around them.

“Welcome home Liam,” Erin whispered, putting a hand in front of her mouth to prevent a yawn from escaping. She tired easily now that she was well into her ninth month of pregnancy in addition to the long hours she had spent during the previous day to make the room look decent for Liam’s arrival. Liam, it seemed, was just as tired as she was but he hid it better than she did; straightening up and engulfing Erin into a big warm hug that she’d missed these past five months.

“How’s the baby?” she heard him mumble as she felt the pressure of his chin on her shoulder. Erin could hear the worry in his voice and she couldn’t blame him. This was their third try for a child, Erin being unable to carry to term twice before. She didn’t know how losing this child would affect Liam.

“The baby’s fine,” Erin whispered in response, handing Liam a threadbare pillow to put behind his back. She turned to light their only candle and longed for the luxury of a gas lantern. “We both are, don’t worry about us. You need rest. What did you do this time? Canal building? Farming?”

“Building a sewer drain down in Brooklyn,” she heard his faint reply and sighed. Liam was working himself to death in order to provide for his family. Erin honestly didn’t know how much more Liam could take. Every time she saw him, he seemed more and more drained and withdrawn. His once thick brown hair was thinning rapidly and graying around the temples. His face was now marred with lines in the corner of his eyes and by his lips, making his face appear more like a well-worn book with the corners folded over.

“Liam, this needs to stop,” Erin knelt down as best she could next to Liam, using the arm of his chair as support. “Your body can’t take much more of this.”

“It’s not for long, Erin,” Liam muttered, his eyes fighting to stay open with every passing minute. He shifted slightly in his seat. “Just until I’ve saved up enough for us to get out of this city and move out west.”

Erin slowly got up from her position, wincing as her ankles called out in agony. Liam always claimed that they wouldn’t be in New York for long but the jobs he worked barely gave them enough to gather food. Erin couldn’t imagine being able to pay for one train ticket let alone three!  

Lost in thought, Erin didn’t even notice when she jostled the tin of sewing supplies on the table. The clattering of sewing needles, thread and thimbles across the wooden table brought her back to reality and she quickly gathered them up and put them back into the tin.

The blue and white tin was a gift from her mother on her wedding day and the only reason they hadn’t pawned it off was because Liam wouldn’t let her. He had insisted that earning the household funds was his responsibility and that it wasn’t fair to her to deal with the uncertainty.

Turning to Liam, Erin felt a soft smile grace her lips as she saw the sight of him sleeping in his chair, his chin drooped down onto his chest and the soft snores filled the room with a melody better than any form of music Erin could think of. Bringing a blanket and draping it over him, Erin curled up in a chair of her own. Looking over the despondent room, her eyes rested on the sewing supplies as she too lost her battle with consciousness.

The next day, Erin awoke to a house full of women and small children. The men had already left to try to get jobs in the city, a ritual that was becoming almost routine. Erin got up slowly, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her lower back. Shrugging it off as a side effect of the odd position she’d slept in the night before, Erin managed to get up.

“Good morning, dear,” an older woman noticed her and smiled as she dished some leftover colcannon from the icebox. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay up in time to welcome Liam.”

“That’s quite alright, Eithne,” Erin returned the smile as she waddled over to the communal table where all the other women were gathered, along with some of the smaller children who were unable to go out to try to get small jobs of their own. The room felt warmer than usual, even with the front door open to allow for some air to enter. Even the air felt heavy, as if an invisible weight was pressing down with all its might.

“Did he get home alright?” a younger woman asked, her blue eyes shining with curiosity. “The city’s awfully dangerous at night.”  

“He didn’t get home until midnight Siobhán. Even criminals need to sleep,” Erin sighed, catching herself before she tripped over the uneven floor. As another woman guided her to a seat, Erin accepted the dish of food from Eithne. Lately, the only thing she could really stomach was colcannon—and thankfully, the main ingredients of potatoes, cabbage, and butter made it budget-friendly. “I hope he finds a job soon. I’m worried about him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Siobhán told her with a smile, rubbing her own belly. “I’m surprised he’s gone back out. He only just got back.”

“Liam probably wants to get a head start,” Erin told her, digging into her meal. “After all, several jobs have become available. It said so in the papers that the economy is improving since that episode in 1893.”

“Did you hear about Commissioner Roosevelt? Apparently he tried to get on the National Republican ticket!”

“Again?” Erin chuckled. “Well, he’s stubborn, I’ll give him that. At least he’s doing some good for the police department. At least now police officers can’t bribe their way to the top anymore.”

““Roosevelt’s made some powerful enemies though,” Siobhán remarked, picking up one of the young children who was attempting to climb onto the table. “Closing the saloon on Sundays for one. My cousin Niall told me that most of the coppers nearly revolted after hearing about that.”

“Well, they’ll just have to get used to it,” Eithne told them as she began mending a pair of trousers at the table. All the women did some form of mending to earn money while the men went out to search for jobs. It was needed, and if Erin was honest, it was fun to help provide for the household in some way. “By the looks of it, Roosevelt’s not going anywhere. But enough of this. It’s not for young children to hear.”

She was right, as she often was, but that didn’t stop the disappointed mutters coming from the younger women. Erin sighed and finished her plate of Colcannon before getting up to clean off her dish. The room was small enough—it wouldn’t do to make it smaller with clutter. As she tided up, her thoughts strayed to Liam. She hadn’t been able to greet him with his favorite meal when he came home, but being one day late wouldn’t make a difference would it?

“I’m going to the market,” she announced, startling the others. “Does anyone want to join me?”

“Are you sure, dear?” Eithne inquired. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“I’ve gone to market before,” Erin reminded the older woman. “I won’t be long. Just a trip to the butcher and maybe the grocer.”

“If you’re sure, dear,” Eithne frowned, but turned to prevent one of the children from falling off a chair. Erin sighed. She straightened up her dress, fixed her hair, and grabbed a nearby basket along with some cash from a tin before heading out into the oppressive summer heat.  

The city bustled with movement as Erin walked through the dark streets of the tenements. She hated living there, but she certainly preferred it to living on the streets. The butcher’s was a few blocks from where she lived so Erin had a bit of a walk before reaching it, having to stop twice to catch her breath and rub her still aching back.

In all honestly, she didn’t mind. Unlike Liam, who yearned for the wide-open world of the western United States, she preferred the hustle and bustle of New York City. She just wished she could live in an area of the city with a little more room.

“Hello, Ronan,” Erin called upon entering the butcher’s shop. It was a small store with very little light and the constant smell of meat. Every wall seemed to have some manner of meat hanging from a rack behind the counter; allowing for a small amount of floor space for customers in front of the counter. “Have you any good sales today?”

“Aye,” Ronan nodded, looking up from his paper to smile at the smaller woman. “Hello deirfiúr.”

“Brother!”

“Ah, a brother can’t greet his sister the way he’s been doing it for twelve years without a reprimand?” Ronan chortled at the faux-peeved look on Erin’s face. “What can I do you for, Erin?”

“Do you have any pork sausage or pig’s totters?”

“Liam get a job?” he asked, looking surprised. “Normally, you tend to avoid the pricy stuff.”

“No, Liam’s still looking,” Erin sighed. “I was just thinking I’d make him a good meal tonight since I couldn’t last night.”

Ronan shook his head in amusement. “Well, at least he’s still looking. If I was in his shoes, I’d given up by now.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not Liam,” Erin stated, her voice stilted at the implied insult. “Now, about the meat?”

“Sorry, Erin,” Ronan sighed. “But the meat’s too expensive, and I’m not going to be the one to put stress on you now.”

“Please?” she begged. “I’d love to make Liam a good meal for once.”

She thought for a moment, looking around the shop. While she knew her brother would do anything for her, she wasn’t going to be the one to take advantage of their relationship to get cheaper meat.

“If pork sausage and pig’s totters are too expensive, then do you have some pig’s blood?” Erin asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Aye, that I can sell you,” Ronan smiled. “Going to make some black pudding?”

“It might be the one thing to make him happy,” Erin smiled, paid for the item and bid her brother farewell. She thankfully had the barley and seasoning at home,  and so made her way back as quickly as she could, which wasn’t that quick, considering she was nearing her time. Her swollen ankles made the short walk seem unbearable. Sweating from the heat, Erin got back and stopped in the doorway and placed her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her body again.

“Tired, dear?” Eithne asked as she picked up her mending from the table to make room for the items. “I told you a woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“Yes, Eithne,” Erin nodded. “But I was able to get a special treat that I’ll make for Liam tonight.”

“Oh, what is it?” Siobhán asked as she got up from her seat, one hand on her belly to balance herself, to offer the seat to Erin. Despite the similar appearances in belly size, Erin was farther along than Siobhán.

“Pig’s blood,” Erin said, taking the offered seat. “I’m planning on making a black pudding for dinner tonight!”

That caused the entire room to gasp in excitement. The last time they’d had something like that was back when Liam first got the job that took him away for five months.

“Do you need help?” a young child asked, eager to be included in the process. A sharp pang along her side stopped Erin from answering as she gasped in pain. The pang was sharper than the ones she had been feeling all day. The damp feeling running down her legs and trickling down to the floor ensured her assumption that it was indeed time for her child to enter the world.

“Erin!” Eithne exclaimed in shock, but then settled as she realized what was happening. Looking down, she addressed the child who asked if he could aid in dinner preparations. “Senan, I need you to go run and get Liam. He’ll be with your father this time.”

The young child nodded and ran out the door as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Eithne then looked over at the eldest girl in the room and began to address her.

“Niamh, you’re in charge of all the younger children. Make sure they don’t get underfoot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded, her braided brown hair slapping her in the face as she did so. Ushering the children into the other side of the room, Niamh couldn’t help but notice the other women putting sheets up to hide the sight from the children.

“Siobhán, get a pot of hot water! Saoirse, you need to go get towels!” Eithne commanded. Despite being in the country the longest, hints of her Irish accent could be heard when she was upset, rattled or focused. “It’s alright, Erin. God wants you to have this baby now.”

Erin nodded, sweat matting her brown hair to her head, and she shut her eyes as a wave of pain passed over her. “Oh cac!” she cried as the pain intensified.

“Erin!” Eithne scolded. “Language!”

Erin didn’t respond, but instead focused on breathing as Siobhán showed her. Having given birth to five healthy children, Erin figured the woman knew what she was doing. A crash resonated through the room as Liam bounded through the door.

“Erin!”

“I’m fine!” Erin gasped out, clutching Siobhán’s hand for dear life. Sweat matted her hair and the heat from the day seemed almost overpowering. The pain seemed to get closer and closer together with each spasm. Liam, Erin assumed, had either gone to wait with the children or was out in the hall.

“Do you want me to send Liam out to get a midwife?” Siobhán asked, her own face glistening with sweat.

“There’s no time,” Eithne responded, coming up from monitoring Erin’s progress. “Erin, you need to push now.”

Erin began pushing, her face changing colors from the pale it had been to a bright red. Tears began mingling with the dried sweat, running down her mouth to allow Erin the taste of salt on occasion. However, a painful sensation unlike the one she was experiencing gave her pause.

“What happened?” she gasped, her voice no higher than a whisper.

“You just have a little tear dear,” Eithne told her, not looking up from watching the progress. She turned to whisper something to Siobhán, who nodded and ran off behind the sheet. “Lay your head back down, Erin. You need to relax.”

That was easier said than done, Erin thought bitterly. But the thought quickly left her thoughts as another strain ran through her body.

“Push, Erin!” Siobhán encouraged her, returning from the task Eithne had given her. Erin resumed pushing, the sweat returning to her face as her wet dress stuck to her body like a stamp on parchment. After several more pushes, the sensations stopped and the room quieted. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin could see a small bundle in Siobhán’s arms.

But if that’s the baby, Erin thought, then why isn’t it crying? That’s what babies do right?

After all, all five of Siobhán’s children had cried when they arrived into the world.

“What’s wrong?” Erin asked. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

None of the women made to answer as panic enveloped Erin like a blanket. Was the baby mute? Feeble-minded? Was it deformed somehow?

“Erin…” Siobhán began to speak but stopped as tiny whimpers started to form from the bundle and a smile appeared on her face. “Your child’s fine.”

Erin’s shoulders slumped in peace. The baby was fine. After two failed and painful pregnancies, here was proof that she was a good woman. A good wife.

“Let me stitch you up, dear,” Eithne said softly as Saoirse handed her Erin’s blue and white sewing tin. Erin didn’t even notice each prick of the needle as it passed through her skin. All she knew, lying there covered in sweat and blood, was that she was finally a mother.

After it was finished, Siobhán placed the baby in her mother’s arms. “Congratulations Erin. It’s a girl.”

Eithne, it seemed, had left the room as she re-entered with Liam in tow, who rushed to the side of his wife and new daughter.

“What do you want to name her?” Erin whispered, panting softly and struggling to keep her eyes open as she looked at her husband.

“I was thinking we could name her after your mam,” Liam said. “Nora Cleary has a good ring to it.”

“I like it,” Erin smiled and relaxed as she continued to hold her new child—the newest edition to their family.

[arachnaem]

Omg this is too silly I have to try!

(sorry for the long post I don't have an ao3 account)

Hi, my name is Harry. I live with my friends in a large mansion, built specially for our band.

Yes, we have a band.

Yes, it is very popular.

No, I can't tell you the name of the band, but I can give you 2 clues: the number 1 and the letter D... Care to guess?

I'm a bit of a bad boy if I may say so myself. I don't look like it, but I have a certain... reputation let's say. They say I'm the good side of bad.

My wild hair, still wet from the shower, falls freely almost to my shoulders. I tie it in a messy bun. It's a good thing it's against company policy to date: I swear the guys check me out sometimes.

I hear noise in the big open kitchen: today Simon, our manager, has offered to cook breakfast himself. He doesn't need to, we have a chef, but we just finished recording and he said it was a reward for staying on top of the charts for 3 weeks straight.

But the noise doesn't sound like cooking, it sounds like an argument. Is Louis being an ass again? Last time Simon caught him with a smoke, he got yelled at for so long it took the fun out of it.

"Well," I say to myself, biting my lower lip, "someone has to get the band out of trouble again." I pull up my skinny jeans, jump down the stairs carelessly and they hear me coming. Almost everyone is here.

Zayn is closed-off and visibly upset. Niall looks like he's about to cry. Louis has stormed off somewhere outside. And Liam is pleading with Simon.

"You can't do that, Mr Cowell!" says Liam, begging. Always so polite. Chin up, Liam, that's not how you make girls cry.

"Nothing I can do about it, Liam, it's all here, written in the contracts." Simon looks troubled, and that's never a good sign.

"Hey Simp," (as I affectionately call him) "what's the big deal? Did Niall smuggle another puppy?"

Zayn stares me down, visibly pissed. "You should ask what you did instead, you madman."

Oops. "What did I do?" I ask, an innocent grin on my face. Zayn doesn't fall for my angelic act, he's not even blushing today. It must be a pretty big deal.

Truth is, it could be a number of things. I'm definitely not an angel, but so far I have been pretty good at deflecting and avoiding attention. Oh well. A little bit of chaos can't hurt. What's the worst thing Simon could do to me? Send me on a forced vacation? Quaking in my boots, I tell you. Unless...

"What do you know about a young lady named Harmony? Harmony Davenport? Or a girl called Acacia? Lauren? Mia? Since WHEN has this been going on?" explodes Simon, red-faced. He looks as furious as the time I dried all his ties in the oven because he skimped on my hair products. Cheap man. Cheap ties.

I'm fucked, though. There is no way to make this look good, even if the ad on Craigslist was totally legit. "Too hard to raise your daughter? 1D buys for quick cash! Don't pay for their studies, let us pay for their booties!" We made the ad as a joke one drunk evening with Louis, we didn't expect it to work. Until we had a couple girls showing up at the mansion a few days later.

To be clear, we just gave them jobs. People pay me for my time, not the other way around. I do enjoy watching them squirm when I ask them to clean again, step-mother style, but it's all pretty innocent. As innocent as I can be, anyway. But I'm pretty sure Simon isn't gonna see it that way.

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. "Hey man, Simp, calm down, you're gonna burst something! We've been real gentlemen to the girls the whole time, right lads?"

A delightful look of horror settles on Niall and Liam's faces. "You-you mean they're not really maids?" says Niall, panicking.

"Ok, calm down." What a baby. "We're just gonna tell them to go home, alright? No one got hurt, it was just a special event for the fans! Simp, aren't you always telling us to thank them personally as much as we can?" I wink and stick my tongue out. Impish always works when you're that hot, or so the PR team tells me.

That's when Simon slaps me with the folded newspaper. Ow. Too far. Wanna meet my lawyer, Simpy?

"It's on the news, shitnugget!" he screams. "It's everywhere! This band is done! You're lucky they can't send you all to jail, a sentence you would entirely deserve!"

I rub my cheek. "Message received, dude. You did not need to do that." I frown. "At least we're not going to jail."

"Jail time is the least of our worries, Harry," says Liam, his face moist with anxious sweat. "Don't you remember the Proportional Offense section of our recording contract?"

Zayn crosses his arms, obviously judging. Man has a stick up his ass. I turn to Simon.

"In case of a major scandal involving fans, the band suffers the same fate as what they made their fanbase go through. Usually that type of contract is enough to keep in check the rowdiest of performers, but I guess the usual doesn't apply to these stupid boys." he gives me a hard look. No empathy there. He's gonna throw us under the bus if he can.

I smile. "Well, sorry if we're too cool to be contained, Simpman. So what are you gonna do? Put an ad on Craigslist?" I snort.

"It's already done," replies Zayn, somber. "No one wanted us after the little trick you and Louis pulled, not even for free. We've been sold to a certain Father Strange for a bag of cat food and a couple yards of bendable plastic spine."

I feel a chill of dread. Surely this is impossible? We're superstars! They can't just... do that?

I look around. Liam and Niall are holding hands, barely stopping themselves from crying. Louis at the garden door, on call, screaming at someone. Zayn is just staring at the wall, his arms crossed. Powerless.

"Well then!" says Simon, clapping his hands. "Pack your bags, boys, you're going to Toronto!"

An AU where One Direction was sold to Strange Æons

Scattering dried red lentils for my boys to crunch on <3

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Enduring Ties - Chapter 4 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Cailan lost track of things after that.

He saw to his needs, though only just and he never remembered doing it, just that his bladder ended up empty without him wetting himself and he always had enough water left in his body to make more tears.

If he ate at all, it wasn't much.

Eventually awareness drifted away entirely and if Cailan had been capable of any kind of self reflection he would have expected death to follow.

He felt a muted sense of surprise when consciousness ebbed back in.

It started slowly, just a soft realisation that he was awake.

That he was warm, that his bladder had demands, that his throat felt dry and his belly empty.

His body pressed forward without him consciously commanding it and that's when he felt arms shift around him, hot breath against his forehead.

"Liam," he croaked out because it could be nobody else.

Nobody's arms had ever felt this way around him but Liam's and nobody's ever could.

Liam leant back to look down at Cailan and let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, Cailan. You'll be fine. I'm so sorry, baby. I just, I had to. We can both leave now."

"Leave?"

Liam's lips curved into a fragile smile.

"I got my first fortnight of military pay. New recruits can't keep slaves but there's lodging near enough that I could visit you every day. Now that I have money to pay for it, I can take you with me."

Cailan pressed his face against Liam's collarbone and let out a sob that wracked his whole body.

Liam held him close and petted him as he cried, his hand on Cailan's back and his fingers raking Cailan's hair.

"Come on," Liam whispered against Cailan's ear eventually.

"We can't stay here long. I need to get you ready for travel."

Cailan's body felt weak and floppy and it was all he could do to lean on Liam and let him take care of his needs.

If he'd had more presence of mind he might have felt embarrassed clinging to Liam as he emptied his bladder but Liam just averted his eyes and kept him upright.

Liam stuck his head out of the door and called for Aubree to bring him clean clothing, then helped Cailan gulp down a glass of water.

Aubree returned with a fresh robe as Cailan was chewing on a biscuit.

"He's okay?" Aubree asked as she hovered in the doorway, a small frown curving her lips as she watched Cailan eat.

It was odd seeing her expression so open.

Normally she kept her feelings tightly closed off from him.

"He will be," Liam grumbled. "I thought you would look out for him."

Aubree glanced away, down the hallway, as her face closed off.

"Your father..." She shook her head. "Not all of us get to leave now. The rest of us can't risk stepping out of line."

Liam helped Cailan tug his robe off over his head and let out a tiny dismayed sound.

"He's half starved. He's just a kid, Aubree. My father would have let him starve himself."

Aubree turned back to look at him, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"That surprises you? A dog or a cat would be closer to a real person to your father than a slave is."

Liam lifted the back of his hand to rub at his eye and Cailan realised he was crying.

"He could have just..." Liam shook his head. "I thought he cared about me, at least. Just a bit. I thought..."

He shook his head again, an angry jerk.

"But that's why I'm leaving, isn't it?"

Aubree took a step further into the room, hesitating just inside.

"I've overheard him griping about the dangers of war since you left. Worrying himself. It's more than just a fear of losing what he's invested in his only heir. He does care."

Liam ignored the tears trailing down his cheeks as he helped Cailan into the clean robe.

"But he knows I care about Cailan, he knows how upset I'd be if something happened to him. If he cared, wouldn't he have taken care of him?"

Aubree gave a shake of her head.

"You know it's not his way."

"Too well."

"Liam..."

"Go and pack Cailan's clothes, would you? I don't think we should linger here any longer than we have to."

Aubree hesitated for a moment longer before giving a sharp nod and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Cailan wanted to offer Liam comfort, to settle his quiet sniffling but his brain felt too scrambled for words so all he could do was cling as Liam alternated between packing a bag and encouraging Cailan to eat more food.

Liam was sixteen, a man under the law but in many ways he had far from reached maturity.

"Not everyone is awful," Liam told Cailan as he folded clothes into his suitcase with excessive care. "Some people in this world are kind."

"I know," Cailan murmured because his master was one of those people.

Of course he knew.

"I've been trying to feel a certain way about owning you because I thought... I thought that was the only way to feel about it. But now I've made other friends from different backgrounds and I've mentioned you to them and their feelings aren't the same."

"Hmm," Cailan said as he pressed in closer against Liam's side.

"They're not like my school friends who think I needn't worry about how young you are. And... they're better men than me, I think. They see how bad things can be for slaves and so, of course, they wouldn't want to own one. But Cailan, I do want you. Always. There's nothing more precious to me in this world and I don't ever want to let you go."

Cailan made a fussy sound and squirmed against Liam's side.

He didn't want to be without Liam, not ever.

"Many are worse than my father, of course," Liam continued.

"Vicious and unfeeling wretches. I am not the worst of men but Cailan, it's quite clear I'm not the best either. I'm not sure I even aspire to be."

Cailan wanted to tell him that he was perfect, that he shone brighter than the sun and that any change could only be for the worse but the only way he could express himself was through even more insistent clinging.

Liam let out a chuckle and then sniffled quietly.

"I like that you are mine, that you belong to me and I'm only just beginning to realise how much I shouldn't."

There was a knock on the door and then it swung open a crack and Aubree stuck her head in.

Her expression pinched tight at the sight of Liam's red, watery eyes, and she pulled the door open wider and dragged a small wheeled suitcase inside.

"That's all his clothes."

Liam glanced quickly around and tossed another shirt into his own suitcase before zipping it up.

He picked it up by the handle with one hand and took hold of Cailan's hand with the other, then let out a long sigh.

"Guess it's time to leave."

"You don't have to," Aubree reminded him.

Liam's lips curved into a tired smile.

"No, for once in my life I'm forging my own path," he hissed in a breath through his teeth and swung Cailan's hand in his.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Cailan dragged the suitcase packed with his clothes to the end of the hall just fine but when it came to get down the long set of carpeted stairs they had to do a bit of shuffling.

Cailan barely had the strength to keep himself upright and couldn't carry the suitcase's weight but he just about started crying when Liam tried to get him to surrender his hand so that he could carry it downstairs for him.

In the end they managed to come to a compromise, Liam holding Cailan's lighter suitcase perched on his shoulder so that Cailan could still cling against his side, hand bunched in Liam's shirt and knuckles grazing the warm skin of Liam's stomach.

By the time they made it downstairs and the suitcase was handed off to Cailan again, Liam's father was standing at the foot of the stairs with his arms folded firmly across his chest.

"You can forget about your inheritance, you know," Liam's father said when Liam moved to walk past him with barely a glance in his direction.

Liam paused and tugged Cailan fractionally closer to him.

"I'm making my own money now."

Liam's father scoffed.

"You'll never have the kind of life you had here on a military salary."

"I don't want the kind of life I've had here," Liam said as he corralled Cailan behind him.

"Not ever again."

Liam's father didn't speak again as they made their way past him, just watched them with a deep frown that matched the lines etched into his aging skin.

[blissfulbqrnes]

Crybaby

summary; he loves seein’ you cry

warnings; smut (oral fixation, dirty talk, dacryphilia, name-calling, teasing, begging), pet names, hella swearing, cringe couple costumes, roomie elaine being fruity af for u but like same, a cameo from the 1D boys, drinking, partying.

word count; blurb (1.4k)

note; Happy belated Halloween, whores<3 did not proofread i will sometime soon tho😁

Harry stood behind you, arms locked tight around your waist watching you muse the fresh curls on your head. You made sure the pink and blue on the ends of your hair was as good as you could get.

“Okay, now I’m done, what do y’think,” standing in front of the closed shower curtain, you spun around careful not break and ankle in your sleek, black high heels.

“Y’look like we might not make it to this party” He grinned, pulling you into him. His tattooed hand gripped your jaw, mushing his lips against yours, he swatted your bum making you squeal against his harsh kiss. Before he could push his tongue into your mouth, you shoved him away and completely out the bathroom door with a grunt.

With his hands held up in a surrender, he plopped down onto the couch next to your roommate, Elaine. She was clad in something to resemble Jennifer Check. Just before you shut the door once more her eyes ran down your figure with raised brows.

“Lemme just say if Harry wasn’t here-“ She began, pausing to look Harry straight in the eyes, “We could y’know,” She smirking making scissoring motions with her fingers.

“Oh, please. Don’t let me prevent your fun, ladies,” Harry snorted, adjusting the the rings of his hands. You cackled from behind the cracked door, continuing to check yourself out in the huge mirror.

“Now we can go,” You clicked the light off in your bedroom and in the bathroom, walking out the door, phone and car keys in hand, with Harry and Elaine following close behind.

“I pay rent for this shit-hole. We don’t have to knock,” Harry waltzed in like he owned the place, considering he pretty much did. Niall and Amelia waved to you from the top of the stair case.

Louis and Zayn both in there Shaggy and Scooby costumes, came in not long after you guys did. Carrying tons of different alcohol from white claws to various types of tequilas.

“How much did you spend on this?” Elaine gasped following them into the kitchen. She had a thing for Zayn so maybe she could get lucky tonight.

“Well, Mr J, guess it’s just me and you~” You were interrupted by Liam, the biggest cockblock thats ever lived, “And me” He informed, flicking Harry on the back of the neck to get his point across.

“Fucks sake, Liam. Go bother Louis!” Harry grumbled shoving Liam in the direction of the kitchen, pulling you away from his man-baby of a best friend.

“You said something about not makin’ it to this party.. What did you mean by that, hm?” You looked up at him, sounding all pure and innocent. Knowing full and well what he meant earlier.

“Y’know, jus’ that I planned on bending y’over and taking y’against the sink” He was so nonchalant about it, which only made in so much more teasing.

The party had only just begun and you already knew what you were going to do after it was over.

…

“Y’practically gaggin’ for it aren’t ya?” Harry nipped at your jaw, making you shudder. Goosebumps forming under the strokes of his fingertips on your skin. He thumbed at your bottom lip, forcing your mouth to open.

His thumb pushed between your kiss-swollen lips. “Suck,” He commanded, pushing down on your tongue, ever so slightly. A sadistic smirk took over his features as he watched you suck his thumb exactly how you would his cock. The huge faux tattoo seemed to be smiling back at you.

You hummed against his finger, looking up at him through thick lashes. “What?” He asked with raised brows, “Oh wait, y’can’t even speak. Too busy trying’ to choke on me thumb” He chuckled, shaking his head.

He pulled his finger back, still smiling at you teasingly, pressing it against your clothed slit. The thin underwear did nothing but get in the way, which frustrated you greatly.

“Please,” you whined, making Harry’s eyes shoot your face. His brows raised silently asking you what you wanted. He was enjoying watching you squirm for him.

“Quit your whinin’ or I’m gonna leave you to finish yourself off.” Did he really just threaten you? Yes, yes he did. And he meant every bit of it.

Tears of irritation began to well up in your eyes, a few of them dribbling on to your hot face. You tried your hardest not to sob out pleas, but he’s making it very difficult. “Are y’really cryin’? Hell, I’ve barely touched you,” thats the exact reason tears strolled down your face, because he was barely touching you.

Nodding your head the best your abilities, since it was against your pillows, shame written all over your face, “But y’were so big and bad earlier! What happened to the big girl who was rubbin’ all up on m’cock at the party, hm?”

He was referring to how you simply couldn’t take your hands off of him at his frats halloween party. I mean how could you? In his joker get up, the way he mirrored how he looked in the club scene from the 2016 suicide squad film.

He adored the Harley Quinn inspired costume you wore as well, but no where near as much as you enjoyed his. The unbuttoned white shirt showing off his inked chest and pectorals, barely giving the slightest glimpse of the ferns on his hips.

Your whining was slowly getting him frustrated “Knock it off,” He grunted, keeping piercing eye contact. If looks could kill. You’d be six feet deep right about now.

Tugging at the Gucci belt he wore to make his slacks a little less loose around his narrow waist. His cock, hard and throbbing against his black trousers.

He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing a bit to make you lock eyes with him, “Get up” He asked ordered, pulling you by your ankles to speed up the process, you squealed holding onto his biceps as he manhandled you.

He pushed you down, helping you stand on weak legs, keeping a hand on your hip to ensure you don’t collapse. Tear tracks were still evident on your cheeks only spurring him on further. Pressing down onto your lower back making you arch, your dress was pulled over your head, leaving you in nothing.

He jerked his cock a bit at the sight of you bare, bent over with your back arched, and your glistening pussy on full display for him and only him. Slapping himself against your clenching cunt, before slowly pushing just the tip in.

You somehow managed, through his rough grip, to push yourself back into him, forcing his pelvis to slap against your ass. “Y’so impatient, darlin’” He tutted ringed fingers pressing onto the column of your marked neck.

The position he manipulated your body into had forced you onto your limp legs, the only option was to take his brutal thrusts that sent you forward with each one.

“Mm~ yeah! Tha’s so good,” the pitch of your moans was damn near enough for him to just cum on the spot. And they almost did. Almost. It felt like he picked up the pace, which didn’t even feel physically possible for a human to move like this for such a long period of time.

Fingertips danced across your swollen clit making incoherent words spew from your pretty lips. “Love how responsive y’are f’me” He spoke huskily, his accent much thicker than usual given the circumstances.

You simply allowed him to move you into whatever place he wanted. Completely giving him free reign over you.

More tears began to well up in your eyes. Your mascara and eye liner that you applied earlier entirely smudged off. This time it was out of irritation. No, he was just fucking you so good it made you cry.

He could hardly understand you. All of your “yes’s” and “so good’s” began to form into a huge mess of word vomit. His bicep ended up around your neck keeping you steady at his hips never stopped.

His stamina, stroke game, dirty talk, tongue abilities, all of it. Absolute god tier shit.

And the jealousy you felt towards other girls who had experienced it all before you even had the chance, left your body after tonight. Just the way he grabbed a hold of you in the middle of the party, all possessive whenever Louis would jokingly flirt with you. It made you realize that he had only fucked you for the last two years. And hopefully for the rest of your lives.

[plus-size-reader]

Crush

Philip “Lip” Gallagher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1726 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Lip develops a crush on the reader, Fiona’s childhood best friend

——————————————————————————————————

Fiona'd had friends of hers in and out of the house since Lip was a kid, but no one more so than you.

You were arguably her best friend in the entire world and everyone knew it. For the better part of both of your lives, you’d been inseparable and it was only natural that you get close with the rest of her family.

In a way, for them, it was like you were a part of their family, and even Frank spoke highly of you, which in itself was a feat. They just all seemed to love you.

Unfortunately though, as Lip got older, he didn't seem to feel the same way.

It wasn't that he didn't love you, because he did, and you were very important to him. It was just that he didn’t feel the same way for you that the rest of the Gallaghers did.

More than anything, he was in awe of you for everything that you were. You were confident and gentle, with more heart and soul than anyone he’d ever known. You were sweet, and caring, while also being a huge badass.

To Lip, you were everything.

...But he knew the truth.

You saw him as nothing more than your best friend's annoying baby brother, and that was never going to change. What did change though was how Lip wanted you to see him.

He didn’t want to be that in your eyes, not when he could be so much more.

Not that you could ever know that.

Lip was positive that he would die if you ever found out how he really thought about you. Nothing could ever be more embarrassing, especially because he had a pretty good idea of how it would go.

You were the one woman in the world he couldn't be confident around, and it had everything to do with the history you two shared.

You had helped Fiona raise him; and Ian, and Deb, and Carl. Hell, even now, you picked Liam up from daycare three days of the week.

You knew everything about every single one of the Gallaghers and the crush that Lip harbored wasn't going to be anything more than a cute little joke.

What you didn't seem to realize was that Lip was a grown man now.

He didn't need you to take care of him now, not anymore.

You were no longer the girl who came around and bothered him when he tried to hang out by himself, and you certainly weren't the girl who'd found his playboys under his bed and put them back without a word anymore either.

You were attainable, as far as age, feelings, and experience went but that didn't mean that Lip could make you his.

Every member of his family was too invested in all this for him to start going out with you, not to mention that Fiona would never allow it. She would sooner end his life than let him be with you.

So Lip kept quiet.

It was much easier to do than opening that can of worms.

He opened the refrigerator door slowly, his hand lazily falling on the neck of the bottle. It was as if the motion was a habit by now, and he didn't even have to think about it.

Across the kitchen was you, giggling at whatever was being said over the phone. He didn't know who you were talking or what it was all about; all he knew was that you were having an amazing time.

There was nothing Lip wouldn't do to hear that laugh but he just wished that he could be the one making you act that way.

Knowing that he couldn’t was more than enough to anger the younger male, who slammed his near-empty bottle down on the counter without a word and stormed out.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to him before that, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was gone. It would have been impossible not to but what you didn't know was why?

It certainly couldn’t have had anything to do with you.

You had just been on the phone with your cousins in Jersey. They spent most of the time arguing with one another more than talking to you, but they were also a laugh riot.

...But Lip didn’t know that.

In his mind, you had been laughing and carrying on with the greasy yet somehow charming usher from the theatre who loved you. He hit on you all the time and it wouldn’t have surprised Lip if you’d hooked up with him.

There was no way for him to think about it that didn't make his blood boil.

You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

~ Normally, you would have let Lip be.

Sometimes he could be dramatic and it was possible that he’d just gotten upset about something else and you’d read the room wrong. However, you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

So, naturally, you went to go check on him.

If you were wrong, you could just move on and go about your business, but if you were right, you might be able to make him feel better.

“Hey kid, what’s going on?” you asked, knocking lightly on his door frame to let him know that you were there. You didn’t want to say anything if he was busy, but he didn’t seem to be.

In fact, he was far from it.

Lip was just sitting there on his bed, his beer bottle long discarded on the floor. It was funny, or perhaps it would have been, if he wasn’t so clearly upset.

“Don’t call me that” he snapped, catching you off guard.

There was something so pointed and aggressive about the way he spoke and it shocked you. Maybe you had done something after all, but you had no idea what it was.

“Okay, sorry. Is there something going on?” you asked, doing your very best to be understanding, even though you were more and more confused with each passing moment.

You were just lost.

Nothing that was happening made any sense at all to you.  

“No, why would there be?” he questioned, that accusatory tone still evident in his voice.

You weren’t even sure why he wouldn’t just tell you what it was, but since you were clearly gonna have to pull it out of him, you sat down.

“Out with it?” you suggested, though you both knew it was more of an order. If he didn’t want you to call him a kid, he’d have to stop acting like one.

Usually, Lip was the most mature of the Gallagher siblings but times like these made you wonder if that was true. It didn’t really make sense that he couldn’t just tell you what was wrong.

He sighed at first, the deep sort of sigh that you’d gotten used to hearing in this house. Someone always had a problem that needed to be worked out, even Lip, apparently.

“I don’t like that you talk to that guy, he’s trash, even more than most of the people around here” he commented finally.

There was a casualness in the way he spoke, though you could see just how hard this was for him in his eyes.

“Who? What are you talking about Lip?” you asked, genuinely confused this time. Clearly he thought you were talking to someone else but you had no idea who it could be.

You haven't been seeing anyone new lately.

“That guy from the theatre, what’s his name-” He huffed, scrambling a little when it came to his name. Lip had always been so focused on how much he hated him that he didn’t pay attention to what he said.

All he knew was the guy was not good enough for you and he was tired of hearing about him.

“I haven’t talked to him in forever. Why do you even care?” you asked, finding it hard not to be offended that he clearly didn’t think very highly of you.

He assumed that you were just going out with whatever guy paid attention to you, and honestly, that hurt. You had never been that kind of girl, but even if you had, it wasn’t really his business.

“Because, you’re way too good for a guy like that” he groaned, going for broke. The cat was out of the bag and there was no getting it back in now.

Gingerly, Lip reached out to take your hand in his own, his fingers brushing over the back of your knuckles slowly. The skin of his hands was noticeably rougher than yours, likely to working construction over the summer, but you didn’t mind.

Instead, you chose to ignore the strange feeling that overtook you at the touch. This was Lip, and the fact that you were even in this position was not alright

You’d known him all your life.

“Lip-” you started, but he stopped you before you could continue.

He knew that as soona s you said what you needed to say, this would be over and he at least had to get out what he was thinking before that happened.

If this ruined any friendship you'd ever had, he had to know that he got it all out there.

“I care because the right guy for you is right here, I always have been” he continued, startling you with his admission but he was far from done. Lip had been sitting on his feelings for so long, it was almost a relief to be honest.

“I know you probably think it’s just some stupid crush but it’s far from that. I’m in love with you”

By the time he’d finished, the male was almost entirely out of breath but neither of you minded. In fact, you were just trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.

Lip was in love with you? How was that possible?

“I have to go” you decided finally, the walls of the room felt like they were closing in and you could hardly even breathe. It was ridiculous that you were even considering this, but you couldn’t help it.

Was it possible you cared about him in that way? Then, as if you hadn’t been handed enough, you realized something. What happened when Fiona found out?

[axwalker]

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone​ to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my  FC. 

Words: 4,110 

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.  

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!! 

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?” 

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong. 

 “Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”  

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent. 

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?” 

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.” 

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up. 

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony. 

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence. 

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done. 

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.” 

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long. 

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me. 

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality. 

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.” 

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was. 

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.  

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right. 

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me. 

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.” 

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.” 

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion. 

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.” 

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—” 

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

 I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me. 

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City. 

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.” 

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…” 

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

 I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along. 

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper. 

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

 Drake

��What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me. 

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.” 

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.” 

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.” 

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

 “I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.” 

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly. 

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand. 

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.” 

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.” 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside. 

“What can I do?” I ask. 

“How long do we have?” 

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead. 

 “Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?” 

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway. 

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine. 

“I can’t just leave, can I?” 

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?” 

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

 “I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?” 

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.” 

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.” 

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything. 

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

[ghostdrew22]

Draco admires you with your kids and their friends

SOFT || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: one minor injury that involves blood but other than that, nothing!

WORDS : 1767

~

“Cass, come on, please put that down?” Draco asks with an exasperated tone as he runs after your daughter- who’s running around the living room with an evil giggle. “Scorpius, don’t you dare-“

Draco gets cut off by the sound of glass shattering as your son, Scorpius, and his friend, Liam, drop a vase off the table. He stops mid-run and sighs heavily as he runs his hands down his face.

Draco has always wanted children. For as long as he can remember he’s wanted children so that he could fill the gaping hole that was left by the lack of affection from his father. But that same hole, that very same resulting trauma, has always made him think that he just can’t do it, that he’ll end up exactly like his own father. And it’s always moments like these that make him doubt his abilities, moments like these that make him wonder if in comparison to his own father he’s too soft.

Draco would’ve never gotten away with half the stuff that your children do at this age, but also he never really had much of a childhood anyway. In a way, being a stay-at-home dad helps him make up for that and recover long lost moments of adolescence that he never had the opportunity to experience. Moments like this, in which he has to chase around your chaotic children and try not to get drunk on the sound of their elated and mischievous giggles, that he still doesn’t know if he’s earned it yet, despite the fact that he’s become a teddy bear in comparison to his own father.

The first time the two of you had discussed children you’d both agreed that one of you would be a stay-at-home parent, and at the time you’d been happy to follow in your mother’s footsteps and volunteer for the role. But then you fell pregnant and hesitated to submit your resignation papers so, in a moment of rushed and haphazard courage, Draco resigned instead and fully committed to the stay-at-home dad lifestyle, despite his perpetual fear of failure, so that you could have the advantage of both motherhood and a successful career. Draco hated his ministry job and you, paradoxically, did not- it was a win-win situation.

So now he stands in your living room, wearing an apron with your daughter’s favourite tv character on it, feeling very exasperated and out of sorts at the overwhelming responsibility of having to supervise your children’s playdates.

You walk into the living room and take in the scene- Cass, holding one of Draco’s old academic trophies as her and Jade run around with paint on their faces, and the boys wrestling on the ground, awkwardly close to the remnants of a broken vase- stopping behind your husband to wrap your arms around his waist and plop a kiss up onto his cheek. He softens into your touch and turns to kiss the side of your forehead before you sink off your tiptoes and onto the heels of your feet. “Need some help?”

To say that your twins are a handful would be an understatement, now add to that two other children with just as much chaotic energy? An absolute disaster. You’d told Draco that taking them to the zoo or the park for the playdate would’ve been a better idea but he insisted on celebrating the twin’s birthday at home and you’d obliged to his wishes. Now, he regrets not listening to you.

“If you don’t mind, that would be great.” He pouts at you and you laugh lightly at his frustration.

“Boys, break it up. Girls, freeze right now.” All the kids halt their movements and quickly turn their heads to face you with wide eyes, “There’s a cake that needs to be cut up and eaten in the next thirty minutes but I don’t think you have earned it.”

“No, we have!”

“Please mum? We’ve been good!”

Draco scoffs at your daughter’s blatant lie of having been good and you bite back a smile. “I’m sure you have, but if you really want the cake then I’m going to need you all to play a couple of games of hide and seek outside first. The winner gets the biggest slice.”

They all squeal in excitement and hurry to run out to the garden so that they can play. You quickly mutter a charm to repair the vase and turn to your husband who’s looking at you with a mixture of exhaustion and adoration.

“You’re my saviour.” He breathes out and you smile, “Somehow you spend less time with them and still manage to handle them better.”

“A mother’s touch love.” You giggle and give him a quick peck.

“I wish this mother would touch me.” He hints as he pulls you in by the waist with a grin.

“You’re so-“

A sharp cry from down the hall cuts you off and you both sigh. “I’ll go get him.” You reply.

“I’ll get the cake ready.”

~

The kids all come running into the kitchen excitedly at the sound of your voice calling for them to get cake. You smile at the sound of their giggles erupting into the kitchen as you play with the recently awoken baby in your arms, but your smile is gone as quick as it came at the sound of a light yelp and cry coming from one of the older kids.

Without missing a beat you rush toward the sound and find that it’s Jade harbouring a thin, but rather long, cut along the expanse of her leg and right below her knee. Draco can see that you’re moving to help her and he holds his hands out for the baby but you pay him no attention and, somehow, manage to lift the 8 year-old into your other arm and carry her up onto the kitchen counter- while still straddling your son on your hip.

“What happened sweetie?” You ask your friend’s daughter gently as you make to grab antiseptic, cotton wool and a bandage from under the sink- the place you and Draco had taken to storing them after the kids came back from playing outside with injuries one too many times.

“I think I scraped my leg against the edge of the little gate by the door.” She points toward the door that leads out to the garden and you nod in acknowledgement- knowing exactly which gate she’s referring to.

“Come here my little skittles, give mum some space to breathe.” Draco figures it’s best not to interrupt you and gestures for the other children to come toward him. They all shuffle their feet against the tile nervously as they keep their eyes trained on their friend.

“I’m so sorry love, we’ll make sure to get that fixed for next time you come over, yeah?” You ask her with furrowed eyebrows and she nods perkily. “This is going to hurt a bit, but I know that you’re a very brave girl so if you can close your eyes, count to ten for me and squeeze my hand that would be great.” She nods and follows your instructions- grabbing hold of your outstretched hand that sits underneath the baby’s bottom- while you dowse some cotton wool in antiseptic and drag it softly down the injury.

She winces but doesn’t cry, counting to ten as instructed and trying to focus on the promise of cake waiting or her, and soon enough you’ve already draped the bandage over her leg.

Draco watches the scene unfold with a look of admiration coating his features. It’s in this moment that he sees why you became an auror- no matter the situation you always present a fierce, prepared and oddly comforting energy- it’s one of the reasons he fell so deeply in love with you and it’s a quality of yours that he hopes both of your children will inherit.

“Thank you aunt Y/N.” She smiles up at you and your heart wrenches at the sight. You give her a kiss on the forehead and help her off the counter.

“You are very welcome, Jade. And I think you’ve earned the biggest slice of cake, what do you guys think?” You turn to the other children with an inquisitive gaze and they all nod quickly in agreement- wanting desperately to make their injured friend feel better. “Okay, bottoms in seats then!”

All the kids scramble to find seats around the table as you go about handing them each a plate with cake in it- making sure to give Jade the biggest slice. 
Draco knows that he should feel envious at how easily you get the kids to bend at your will despite the fact that he spends way more time with them, but all he can feel is an immense sense of love and pride swelling in his heart. He feels soft.

He knows that the ‘woman can have it all’ mantra is often misleading and impractical but the truth is that you can have it all. Somehow you juggle your family and work so well it almost looks flawless, and while he knows how hard you work to keep it all steady, he still always finds himself speechless at how well you do it. Even after spending countless nights reassuring you that you’re not a bad mother for wanting a career, he can’t seem to understand why you’d ever doubt your abilities when he watches you in action.

Badass auror in the papers, loving mother in the house and generous lover in the-

“Draco?”

“Oh, sorry love, did you say something?” He blinks back his thoughts and smiles down at you.

You tilt your head backwards in a laugh and move to hand your husband the baby, “I was asking what you want to get for dinner? Blaise and Luna are picking up Jade and Liam soon so I thought that maybe we could just order in for dinner tonight?”

“That sounds lovely actually, I’m not particularly interested in cooking or eating Flora’s burnt food.” He says with a grimace- referring to your very incompetent house elf.

“You really should fire her.”

“She’s got nowhere else to go.” He pouts and you roll your eyes.

“When did you become so soft?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he shrugs as he watches you speak sweetly to your son that he’s got in his arms.

In that moment he already knows the answer, he became so soft the minute you came into his life, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I won hide and seek by the way, so that cake was rightfully mine.” Scorpius grumbles out- even though he wears the signature Malfoy grin on his lips- and you all laugh at his random outburst.

<~>

So there’s my first ever request! I hope I did it justice, it was a little difficult to put someone else’s vision down and into words but it was a really nice challenge and I’d like to do more so please feel free to request moreeee.

Jean <3

[ohkate]

M8TE by gallawitch. ABO fic but not tacky. Ian and Mickey meet on a dating app just for a one time hookup during Mickey's heat, but it's ends up meaning so much more. Love this fic. You Are my Wednesdays by ermete. Ian is still an EMT but he also became an escort on the side to try and pay substantial bills. He's taking care of Liam full time and trying to cover the mortgage. Mickey is a rich CEO of a security firm who is dealing with some family and personal demons and hires Ian for what was supposed to be just one night... This is one of those stories that... it has some grammar/spelling issues and a lot of cheesiness that can sometimes ruin a fic for me because it's SO out of character. But I love this fic so much that I honestly don't care. It's one of my favorite stories. I read the whole thing like once a week. 2. This motherfucker right here. This is so good I'm angry I didn't make it. 3. Mickey being a great piano player. That his mom was in a band and that's why she was never around. She was a drug addict. The last time she was clean he was 9 and she taught him and Mandy to play. Mandy didn't really care for it and lost interest but Mickey soaked it up like a sponge. He was a real prodigy. She fell off the wagon and died, and he kept her keyboard. It was all messed up from years of travelling. She'd painted a few of the keys with nail polish. He loved that keyboard. It was all he had left of her. And he played every night until he was a teenager. When he was 14, he had detention and had to meet his teacher in the auditorium. She was late, and he started playing the piano. She recorded it and sent it to a friend of hers who was a scout from Julliard. He told her he was one of the more naturally gifted players he'd seen. She went to Mickey's house herself to try and talk to Terry about letting him study it but of course he thought it was 'faggy' and wasn't going to lose his little criminal cash cow. The next day he pulled Mickey out of school. And then Terry pawned off the keyboard. Mickey doesn't play anymore, and doesn't talk about it. Maybe Ian finally gets him to play again. 4. I think this is cute. Ian teaching Mickey to swim. Sorry I have no idea who it's by. 5. More music videos. I've only done one because fuck me they're time intensive. 6. I've never liked AU fics in any fandom I've ever been in until now. So far they tend to be my favorites here. I read a story called Flower U Up where Mickey is a flower shop owner. Now this in something that my pre-this-fandom brain would not normally let me even contemplate because it's so ridiculous. But turns out I actually like AU when it's done well. 7. Well written mpreg fics. I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea. I tend to read ABO because there just aren't enough mpreg. But I don't want anybody pooping out a baby. A genetic mutation some men have to justify non stop smut is enough for me. c-sections are fine. Nothing crazy. No man boobs. No fucking twins or triplets- just fucking why?? ABO fics can be fun but also can really go off the goddamned rails. 8. Seasons 10 and 11. I do agree with a lot of criticisms about them, though. I didn't like the buddy cop relationship the writers sort of made them into to avoid any intimacy/romance. But I loved that they were married, finally. 9. First, that Terry was raping Mandy and no one seemed to care. Second, that the Alibi was never cited or shut down for giving drinks to minors. Many, many minors. Literally all the time. 10. What I interpreted as Ian's suicide attempt on the bridge and the cries for help leading up to it. 11. I couldn't choose. There are too many. 12.I'd like to think Mickey eventually realized he wanted a couple of kids and they were able to do that. That their business took off and their doing well financially. They've learned how to fight like adults and also be more open about how much they love one another, making their insecurities about that fall away over time.

Totally optional, fun Gallavich questions if you feel like answering….

Answer one or a few or all, whatever you feel like! No worries if you don’t want to play 💖 but if you do, let’s talk Gallavich…..

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once?

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog?

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about?

What’s a fanart you love looking at?

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration?

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else?

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of?

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show?

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved?

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough?

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship?

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale?

Tagging: @sgtmickeyslaughter @bawlbrayker @shippergirl121fic @neanerbean @miilkoviich @deepeststarfishsong @golden28s @krystallouwho @m4ndysk4nkovich @joanna-olson @gembu-tortuesouscafeine @iris-writesx @redshirt2 @cal-tastrophe @midwestclover @tanktopgallavich @wh0lemilk0vich @jademickian @such-a-barbarian @zutaralesbian @transmickey @dynamic-power @milkovichrules @iansw0rld @crestfallercanyon @scurvgirl @thereyoflights @gallavichonly @redwiccanrobin @ohkate @astaraels @swiftfootedachilles @sam-loves-seb @jrooc @secret-gallavich @c0ffee-gh0ul @l0st4l1fe

And please feel free to tag others!! (I want to tag everyone in this fandom but that’s a bit much so I’m hoping people will answer and tag others) Also, please feel free to just jump in and answer the questions even if you haven’t been tagged! Can’t wait to read everyone’s answers 💖

[thelarriefics]

HOLIDAY FIC REC, PART IV: Below you’ll find more fics that have to do with the holiday season. 

📖 (I'm Dreaming of a) One Night Inn by @lululawrence (54k)

When everything Louis had planned for his life falls through, and on his birthday no less, he's left with no other option but to regroup and start over again. The road of life isn't always straight and it certainly isn't always easy, but sometimes it's those twists and turns that find you your closest friends and—if you're really lucky—the love of your life.

Louis just happens to be very lucky.

A Holiday Inn AU.

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive.

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Ideal: An Advent Fic by @iamasphodelknox (40k)

All Louis wanted was some god-damned time to write his novel. He didn’t expect to move his and Liam’s entire production of a Christmas variety show to a small inn in Vermont just before the holidays. He didn’t expect to save Niall’s inn. He didn’t expect Liam to fall in love. He definitely didn’t expect to fall in love himself. And he certainly didn’t expect it all to feel so much like a Christmas movie.

Oh hell. There’s a lot of things Louis didn’t expect.

A White Christmas au, complete with drama, fluff, choreographed dance numbers, and idiotic boys falling in love. Just your typical Christmas fun.

📖 The Happiest Season by @sadaveniren (37k)

“You’re going to spend Christmas - and your birthday - with his homophobic WASP parents? That’s gonna be hell.”

Louis closed his eyes in frustration. “It was either that or be apart and I don’t think that’s gonna be good for either of us this year, you know?”

A fic loosely based on Happiest Season but make it ... different

📖 maybe this christmas by @nobodymoves (34k)

Harry lives next door to Louis and babysits his daughter. He might be hopelessly in love with Louis and desperate to be part of his little family, but he’s ignoring that in favour of trying to make Louis’s busy life as easy as possible. When he finds out Louis and his daughter don’t believe in Santa - someone who is universally considered a real person - he makes it his mission to convince them. Along the way he takes in a man who may or may not actually be Santa, and everyone’s Christmas wishes might come true.

A Miracle on 34th Street AU.

📖 Retiens la nuit by @teamlouis2020 (26k)

Everything is too much for Harry. His exboyfriend, his job, his whole life actually. Flying across the globe to find a quiet place for Christmas holidays is exactly what he needs. Among a warm cottage and snow-covered fields, he doesn't expect to come across Louis, the beautiful stranger that stumbled into his house one night. Love isn't supposed to find a way to his heart, but Christmas has its magic tricks, hasn't it?

📖 Neither Wine Nor Dine by @brightgolden (25k)

With Louis’ fringe taking up half of his forehead and eyes crinkling at the side with how wide he grins just by looking at their Christmas tree, he looked so much like the 19 year old boy Harry met in the living room of his shared two-bedroom apartment years ago.

It's too bad that Harry doesn't get to see it often.

OR

Where Harry is too busy travelling the world and Louis is home during Christmas.

📖 Baby, You're On My List by @chloehl10 (17k)

Harry takes his niece to see Father Christmas, but he doesn't count on meeting the cutest Christmas elf. Taken by the handsome stranger, Harry decides to recruit as many children as he can so he can see him again, and again, and again...

📖 The fic where Harry calls Louis an idiot for ten days straight because he is one. by @mercurial-madhouse (16k)

They’ve found the perfect get away from their busy lives as nationally-famous footie player and well-respected restaurant critic, escaping to the isolation of a cabin in the woods where they can simply be Louis and Harry.

If only both were actually here.

A gift forgotten in London, the untameable force of the weather, and the scent of burnt snickerdoodle biscuits find Harry and Clifford pitifully alone and Louis... Where is Louis?

📖 Unwrap My Heart by @larryficwriter (15k)

Harry is flabbergasted, that much is clear. He also looks emotional, understandably. A little excited shiver runs through Louis’ body because this is just the beginning.

“Harry,” Louis begins as soon as the song is over. “This begins 12 Days of presents that I have planned for you. Each day you’ll get another present from me that will hopefully show you that you mean the world to me.”

or, the 12 Days of Christmas: Larry Edition

📖 The Ideal Flatmate by @larryyouknow (12k)

Louis shares his flat with the ideal flatmate (or I-F as he often nicknames him). Harry is a bit younger and a bit taller than him. He’s polite and there is nothing to complain about. Harry rarely brings someone over, he isn’t loud, he eats at the table and when he uses the shared area for his crafting projects he always tidies after himself. Harry doesn’t bother Louis and he pays his share in time.

The ideal flatmate.

The only problem is: Harry hates Louis. This will be very lovely Christmas.

📖 Fine Lines by @harrystinysantashorts (11k)

The short story is there are two little, white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter with two little, pink lines on both of them. The long story is that that’s never happened before.

or, Harry gets the surprise of a lifetime and decides it’ll be the perfect Christmas present.

📖 Run to Me Through The White Night by @mizzhydes (8k)

A horrid last-minute shopping trip amidst a mass of teenage girls and their parents was not what Louis was hoping to get roped into two days before Christmas.

The day started out dreadfully, but fate had something different in store for Louis that day. A chance encounter between a famous pop star and an everyday lad, gave way to an evening that neither of them would ever forget.

📖 In Search of the Perfect Tree by @beanno28 (5k)

Harry and Louis work together at Home Depot and are also in a long term relationship. Harry is getting ready to get the store ready for the holiday season. When Louis decides he wants in on the action and their coworkers plan a tree off. Who wins and who loses? What happens when Harry has a secret up his sleeve?

📖 may your every wish come true by @cocoalou (4k)

“Harry, right? Harry Styles?”

Harry’s insides are screaming.

“Uh. Yes. Louis Tomlinson, yeah?” he replies, trying desperately to keep the manic smile off his face that he knows is already making an appearance because Louis remembers him (!!!!!), little ole Harry Styles; two years below, nerdy as all hell, and his friend’s dorky, younger brother.

Harry and Louis reconnect during the Holidays, it's kind of fate.

[alj4890]

Hello dear! I have an ask I just recently read TRH book 1 what if we get Liams POV when Riley goes into labor and when he has to make that awful decision. What are his thoughts when Riley passes out and there’s no doctor? Maybe we can find out how they got the door open?

I replayed TRH book 1 & 2 recently, so this ask couldn't have come at a better time 😂. I wonder though if anyone else thinks it was odd that Godfrey was put in charge of installing new security at the Palace. I mean, why wasn't Liam and his King's Guards handling that? I don't know, but those chapters of Riley giving birth are some that hurt me, and only because the poor woman is denied an epidural 😂 I would have Godfrey strung up by his thumbs for causing that and allow Olivia to torture him to her heart's content. But enough of my revenge ideas, let's see what I can do with this for you.

@gkittylove99 ​ @krsnlove ​ @kingliam2019 ​ @texaskitten30 ​ @yourmajesty09 ​ @mom2000aggie ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles ​ @twinkleallnight ​ @lodberg ​  @amandablink ​ @neotericthemis ​  @mm2305 ​ @sfb123 ​ @iufilms​

Masterlist

The Decision

It was too much to comprehend.

One moment, Liam was confronting the man who killed his mother and the next was nothing but chaos and darkness.

Screams rent the air as flashing red lights revealed steel enforced doors dropping down over the ballroom's doors and windows.

Liam knelt beside his wife when he realized she had been knocked down by a panicking guest.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Only my pride." She tried to smile but a painful tightening around her middle struck.

Her eyes widened when she felt a wetness between her legs.

"Liam!" She gripped his arm. "My water broke!"

"What?" He searched through the crowd for their friends. "Now?"

She nodded while breathing through another contraction. "We have to get to the hospital."

"We will." He helped her up. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable while we get a door open."

"Liam!" Riley doubled over. "I don't want to have our baby in a ballroom filled with people."

"Is there a problem?"

The couple stiffened when they heard Isabella's voice. Her husband Bradshaw smiled at them.

"Our guards would be more than happy to help with the door situation," his smile held a hint of smugness, "as long as your child is betrothed to one of our twins."

Olivia arrived at that moment followed by their other friends.

"Are you saying your guards won't help rescue you without a betrothal?"

"We're in no immediate danger." Bradshaw explained.

"In fact, we're quite comfortable waiting for your pitiful little guards to find a way out." Isabelle added. "No need for us to cross international lines and damage delicate feelings with our more than capable personnel."

"Delicate!" Olivia heaved a deep breath. "We don't need your help to get out of this."

"We don't?" Maxwell asked. He let out an oomph when Olivia elbowed him. "I mean, yeah we don't! This isn't the first time we have been faced with a challenge."

"No steel door will ever convince us that their baby should be forced to be with one of your twins." Drake added.

Olivia beamed at him before turning her fury on the visiting monarchs. "I'll have it opened in no time."

"Yeah!" Maxwell cheered. "Go Nevarkis Ingenuity!"

She rolled her eyes while going to examine the metal door that covered the double doors into the ballroom.

"Oh!" Riley eased back down into a chair. She raised her eyes to Liam's. "They're getting stronger."

He gently rubbed her back. "Have you had any pains this evening?"

"It was all in my back. I thought it was from being on my feet most of the night." She took deep breaths to calm down. "But now--"

The flashing red lights and alarm stopped. The couple turned to see a proud Olivia slip a strange looking quartz bladed dagger back into a garter under her dress.

There was a square shaped hole cut within the wall with numerous wires exposed.

"That's going to be difficult to repair." Maxwell muttered.

Liam could not have cared less about the damage. If Olivia wanted to tunnel underground to get them out, then he would gladly rip up the marble tiles himself.

Riley cried out as a strong contraction struck.

"I need a distraction!" She puffed through the pain.

"How about some music?" Hana asked. "I composed a new piece recently."

"Or we could sing." Maxwell offered. "Any song you'd like."

"We could?" Drake shook his head. "Sorry Brooks, but that's not happening."

"You would deny her a song when she's in labor?" Maxwell's jaw dropped.

"I doubt our singing would help her any." Drake replied. "Might even double her pain."

While his friends bickered, Liam found his thoughts drifting back to the secret chamber they had unearthed less than an hour ago. He slipped his hand into his breast pocket to touch the letter he had discovered.

His mother's words about how much joy he had brought her echoed in his heart. He wished she could have lived to see the type of man he had become. He had tried with everything within him to live up to her expectations. Would she have noticed? What would she think of him as king now? What would her opinion have been on this choice he and Riley were given for an arranged marriage for her grandchild? Would she approve of them wanting to give their baby the right to choose his or her own spouse?

He wished he knew. He wished she was here guiding him in not only capturing her killer but in also knowing what to do for his wife and unborn child. He would have given anything to have her wise counsel once more.

"Hana!" Riley yelled to stop the argument between her three friends. "Please play whatever you like." She glared at Drake. "Someone's voice is getting on my nerves."

Hana hurried over to a piano and began to play a soothing song.

"I'm going to check on the door situation." Liam pressed a kiss to Riley's cheek. "I'll be back in just a moment."

"Hurry, please." She pleaded.

"I'll watch over her." Maxwell promised.

"I'll go check on the door with you." Drake added.

Liam made his way through the crowd, pausing here and there to reassure everyone that they would be out soon.

"Give me a boost." Olivia ordered.

Drake squatted down and linked his fingers together.

Olivia slipped her heels off and placed her foot in his grasp.

"One...two..." He heaved her up in the air, "three!"

Olivia steadied herself and quickly studied the mechanism that had allowed the door to drop. A lock had formed thus causing them to be unable to lift it up.

After poking and prodding with one of her stilettoes, she noticed the thin metal holding the lock in place.

"Bring me down." She ordered.

Drake grunted as he brought her back down. "Next time, stand on my shoulders."

"Did you figure out how to get it open?" Liam asked.

"I think I might be able to weaken the lock with heat and one of my daggers. Once we destroy that, we should be able to lift it." She explained.

"Can't we hotwire it?' Drake asked, gesturing toward the exposed wires.

"Not since I had to cut so many to get the alarms to turn off." She remarked. "I wouldn't be surprised if there is some emergency failsafe in place for an enemy's attack on the wiring. It might even drop another door on us."

Liam ran his hands over his face. "Do whatever you can to get us out of here."

"Good." Olivia nodded towards the bar. "Drake, we will start with the brandy to use for fuel."

Liam shook his head at her plan to start a fire of sorts. He hoped she didn't end up hurting herself in the process. Honestly though, he couldn't seem to focus on what he could do to help get the doors open.

"Your majesty! I don't think I can breathe in here another second!" Penelope grasped his arm while hyperventilating. "I don't do well in enclosed spaces."

"When will we get out of here?" Another noble demanded.

Questions began to be thrown at him as the crowd closed in a circle, trapping him directly in the middle.

"Is Olivia trying to burn us up in here?"

"We're going to die!"

"What are the guards doing to save us?"

"Auvernal's guards will have us out in minutes, if your king agrees." Bradshaw yelled out over the crowd. His smile was the final straw to break Liam's barely restrained temper.

"Enough!" Liam roared. "We are not going to die in here. The guards are doing all they can and Olivia is graciously assisting." His eyes zeroed in on Penelope. "Go sit down to try and calm your breathing. You're in the same ballroom you have danced in for years." He then turned to Auvernal's king. "As for your assistance, it isn't needed at this time."

Bradshaw shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, but his eyes held a deep seeded anger as he looked upon Liam. "If you think your guests wouldn't prefer to get out of here as quickly as they can, then I suppose there is little we can do."

Murmurs rose once more around him. Liam clinched his fists then pushed his way through when he heard Riley call out for him.

Will this night never end?

It was becoming too much for him. The whining of his people, his wife in pain and in need of medical care, his own innate need to chase after Godfrey and make him pay for poisoning his mother...he needed it all to stop for a minute to allow him to think.

"Liam!" Riley had tears falling down her cheeks. "We need to go to the hospital now!"

She gripped his hand as Hana finished the last few notes to her song.

He knelt before her chair. "Olivia has found a way to open the door. We'll soon have you out of here and--"

The sound of metal screeching had everyone turning toward the double doors.

Seeing the steel door go up caused Liam to scoop his wife in his arms and rush toward the exit.

Their friends and guests spilled out after them to only stop short.

Godfrey had installed these same safety measures on every window and exterior door along the first floor.

"Liam?" Riley puffed through another contraction. "What are we going to do?"

"I found a way out of there." Olivia boasted. "I'm certain I can--"

Bradshaw clucked his tongue. "This isn't the same type of door, your grace." He smirked at her. He knocked against the thicker steel door. "My guards could find a way outside to open it, but only if you sign this."

He produced a betrothal contract.

Riley whimpered as she looked at it and then her husband.

"Get. That. Out. Of. My. Face." Liam ordered.

He turned on his heel to take his wife upstairs to their chambers. Once he reached the first step he spoke over his shoulder. "Olivia, we trust you to handle this. Hana, please call Riley's doctor and ask her to meet us here instead of the hospital."

***************

The hours dragged on as they waited. Olivia appeared periodically to vent her frustrations with getting the door to open. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana attempted to keep Riley's spirits up as she endured the ever increasing contractions.

Liam felt absolutely useless. He didn't know what to do to help his wife. He didn't know the first thing of helping a woman give birth. What if there was a complication? What about their child? What if he couldn't clear the baby's airways? What if--"

"Liam?"

He focused on Riley, weakly gripping his hand. "Yes, my love? What can I do?"

"I feel...odd."

Maxwell nudged Liam out of the way to check her blood pressure.

"Where did you find a blood pressure kit?" Drake asked.

"I know it's hard to believe, but Bertrand has high blood pressure." Maxwell winked at his friends. "I can't imagine where his source of stress comes from."

Riley tried to smile at his teasing. She could feel whatever it was pulling her under making every movement feel like it she was wading through quicksand.

Maxwell's smile disappeared. He studied Riley's flushed cheeks and stepped back.

"What is it?" Liam whispered as his friend pulled him away from her bed.

"Her blood pressure is really high right now." Maxwell glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know if that's normal for a woman in labor, but I do know that this is when I would be calling an ambulance if it was Bertrand with this reading."

Liam rubbed his hands over his face. This entire night was one nightmare after another.

"Riley?" Hana shook her by the shoulders. "Riley?!"

Liam rushed back to the bed to see his wife passed out. He took a cold rag and wiped her face, hoping it would bring her back to them.

"Riley?" His voice cracked. "Please, wake up." He looked around at their friends. "What should I do?"

"I don't know." Drake draped his arm along Hana's shoulders when she began to softly cry.

"Keep talking to her." Maxwell jogged out the room. "I'll see about the door!"

Liam turned back toward Riley. He placed his hand on her stomach and could feel the tightening of contractions along with the faint movements of their child.

Riley opened her eyes.

Liam gently cupped her cheek.

"What happened?" She asked.

"You blacked out." He explained. "Your blood pressure--"

Maxwell returned with a frustrated Olivia.

"...short of dynamite, I don't know how I'll--" she stilled when she saw the color drain from Riley's face.

"I think it's happening..." Riley became unconscious once more. Her head dropped back on the pillows.

"We have to get that doctor here now." Liam looked up at Hana. "Any word from her?"

"She is right outside." Hana explained. "And so are Auvernal's guards."

Liam took off out of the room. His long, deliberate strides had him at the balcony overlooking the entryway where the Auvernal monarchs stood talking to some of the guests.

His friends had to nearly run to catch up with him.

Bradshaw looked up and curved his lips. "Trouble, King Liam?"

Isabella snickered. "I hope Queen Riley isn't suffering unnecessarily."

Liam launched himself at the smug king when he brought up the severe pain Riley must be in at this moment.

Shouts from his friends, guests, and the King's Guards drowned out him telling Auvernal's monarch to have his guards break down the door.

"No." Bradshaw's easy smile grew into an evil smirk. "I don't see any reason to have my men do anything like that to help a woman who isn't a part of my country nor one who wishes to ally herself with mine."

"You bastard!" Liam jerked his arm back. His fist formed as he prepared to beat this man within an inch of his life for denying his Riley a doctor.

It took Drake, Maxwell, and Bastien to hold him back from starting a war with Auvernal with a single punch. Olivia and Hana got between the two kings while Isabella merely looked on in glee.

"My wife and child are going to die if I don't get that doctor in here now!" Liam shouted. "And you stand there refusing to--"

"Not refusing!" Bradshaw snapped. "I'm trying to help you." He snapped his fingers and was handed the engagement contract by a nearby Auvernal guard. "Sign this and my men will have your doctor in here within five minutes."

Liam felt all the adrenaline that had rushed through his veins when he tried to punch the man leave his body. He felt not only weak but utterly worthless. He couldn't see any way out of this. He couldn't lose his wife. He couldn't lose the child they had eagerly waited for.

He couldn't get the damn door open without the very people he had grown to loathe these past nine months.

"Liam," Olivia whispered, "it's the only option we have now."

"We'll find a way to break it." Maxwell whispered.

"Yeah," Drake patted his shoulder. "Right now, you need to just accept the deal to get Brooks and the baby some help."

Liam glanced over at Hana to get her advice.

Tears filled her eyes. "I--I know this isn't what you want, but we have no choice."

Liam swallowed and snatched the paper from Bradshaw's hand. He signed the cursed document and tossed it in his face.

"There! Now get that doctor in here before it becomes null and void."

Bradshaw quickly gave the orders for his guards outside to break down the door with a battering ram.

In three minutes, Dr. Ramirez was following Liam up to the royal chambers.

She helped rouse Riley and then guided her through the delivery.

Liam watched in awe as his wife produced the most perfect baby girl he had ever seen.

Tears of joy and immense relief trickled down his cheeks as he held his daughter for the first time.

"I think we should name her Eleanor," Riley said, watching him kiss their little one's forehead, "in honor of your mother."

His eyes practically glowed as he looked upon his wife. "Thank you, my love."

She snuggled her head on his shoulder as they both gazed down at their own miracle.

Liam knew he needed to tell Riley what had happened with Auvernal yet he didn't want to ruin this first moment of them as a family.

He silently vowed as he held his daughter that he would somehow find a way to save her from an arranged marriage.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 20 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

His

The moment you open the front door, you know something's off. It's night already, and you're sure, by how dark it is, that every single light is turned off. Keanu was supposed to stay with Liam as you went to your appointment with the psychologist. Another one, someone who will give you a different perspective. So you don't get why the house seems to be empty. He doesn't take Liam out without telling you, and you do the same, always letting the other know where you'll be.

“Keanu?” You call, throwing your purse on the couch and taking your heels off.

Fear starts creeping over your skin when you see something weird on the floor, some feet away. Walking there, you bend over to take it, and at the same moment you realize what it is, you see another, and another, and one more after, forming a trail that leads to the back of the house. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder why are there so many red rose petals on the floor.

“Keanu?” You call again, making your way to the backyard, an unusual yellowish light getting your attention. “What–” The words get caught on your throat when you notice more and more the petals, and as you follow and then, raising your head, your eyes go wide at the sight of the backyard, completely lit up by candles.

There's a table set in the middle and roses all over the place. Keanu stands by the table, in a damn suit, which makes him look even more handsome. Mouth half open, you take a look at everything, perfectly set, before starting at Keanu once again.

“Ke... What...” He moves his hand a little and a slow, soft song starts playing. You gasp, biting your lip.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks, and you nod, making your way over him and taking his hand on yours.

Keanu guides your arms around his neck, his big, warm hands resting on your hip, and it burns right through the delicate fabric of the green dress you're wearing. And then, you start moving, from side to side, following the rhythm.

“What's this about, Ke?” You have to ask. It's been a while since you decided to start dating. It does sound silly, given everything that happened, but you both thought it would be a good start. You also promised not to let out what happened between you two, since people wouldn't understand and you don't want to affect his career. You forgave him, wholeheartedly, and you know he did what he did to keep you safe.

“Just thought we needed a romantic dinner.” He simply says, taking your hand and pushing you away, so gently, before pulling you back into his arms. “And don't worry. Liam is with Mrs. Jackson.”

“Alright...” Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. “Is it a special occasion? Like my birthday or something?” The day you were born was mentioned, but you didn't really pay attention.

“Not for a couple of months.”

“You're oddly mysterious tonight, Ke.” Tiptoeing, you place a kiss on his lips.

“What's wrong with a little bit of mystery?” When the song ends, he takes your hand, guiding you to the table.

“There's nothing wrong with it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, taking your seat.

“I'll serve dinner. Give me a minute.” You nod as he walks back inside, taking the time to look around again.

The yard was never so beautiful, the candles casting soft, warm lights. There are red petals, scattered around the place, and roses on the centerpiece. Reaching out your hand, you take one, bringing it to your nose and breathing in the amazing scent.

“(Y/N),” Keanu calls when he's near you, and when you turn around, you don't find anything on his hands. “I was going to wait so we could have dinner first, but...” Taking your hand in his, Keanu pulls you up, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

He takes a deep breath before searching for something on the inside of his suit, and you feel your blood running cold when he gets down on one knee.

Keanu reveals a small, dark box, and when he opens it, there's the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in it. It shines, lit up by the candles, and you see three stones, the one in the middle a little bigger than the others.

“(Y/N), I know it's only been some months since we started... Dating.” He begins, and you feel your hands shaking. “But everything happened to us in quite an unusual way and I'm completely in love with you.” You're already crying, a hand covering your mouth. “I thought I knew what love was, but I was so wrong. This is love, and it's... Undescribable. The way I feel when you walk in the room is... You own my heart, it's yours.”

Biting back a sob, you let him take your hand in his.

“So I couldn't wait anymore, beautiful. I want what we had while stuck on that lie to be real. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Forever. So... (Y/N)... Do you want to be my wife?”

“Yes,” you mutter, a little too fast, but since you're not sure if he could hear it, you nod, watching as he slides the ring on your finger.

There are no words to describe this moment. As Keanu stands up again, welcoming you into his arms and lifting you up, and you know this is right. Maybe everything meant to lead you to this moment. You know there are important people you left behind, like Daniel, your first husband, but you can only count on what you remember. And maybe just maybe, this was meant to be since the beginning. And you're happy, beyond happy, to have found the love of your life.

So it doesn't take much until the preparations start. Actually, they start on the very next day. For the general public, you'll be just a wedding vow renewal, since you don't remember the first. But it doesn't matter what they think, only what you know.

Laura is overjoyed, and she takes it into her hands to help you with everything. The date is set for only two months after the proposal, so it gives you little time to put everything together. And Laura is as indecisive as you are about the wedding dress. You do want to know Keanu's opinion, but you really want it to be a surprise, so you manage to chose it without asking him.

Things start getting hectic as the day approaches, but thanks to Laura, and to some people Keanu hired to organize everything, stuff is getting done just in time. When the day comes, there's not a single thing that isn't perfect.

There weren't allowed any journalists, just a single photographer, who's friends with Keanu. You know the pictures will find their way online, and you're well aware of some paparazzi hiding away. But nothing else matters. When you say ‘I do’, dressed in white, eyes on the most handsome man on Earth, nothing else matters.

And when you kiss, sealing your love before all the guests, you finally understand the true meaning of happiness. And as you walk down the aisle, hand in hand with Keanu as he holds Liam in his free arm, you smile at the camera, barely able to believe your eyes.

Sometime later, you're watching Liam playing in Mrs. Jackson's arms as you're seated on Keanu's lap. It was just for some photos, but you decided to stay.

“I have some news. But only if you agree.” Keanu says, low voice on your ear.

“Let's hear it.”

“I thought about a week in the Caribean as a honeymoon. But in November, so Liam is a little older. And if you think he'd be alright without us for this period.” As he speaks, Keanu pulls your hair away, placing a kiss on your neck.

“If we can hire Laura as a babysitter, I think it'll be alright.” Biting your lip, you look down at him. “And you should at least try to control yourself, Mr. Reeves. There are still some hours before we can be alone.” Lowering your voice, you smirk, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Because you're so good on self-control, Mrs. Reeves.”

“Oh, I love my new name.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when a song starts playing. “Ok, we have to dance.” Jumping to your feet, you start moving already, holding his hand as you walk to the dance floor. The song is fast, so you get this chance to be all over Keanu the best you can without letting anyone else notice the teasing.

“Do you really think it's a good idea to tease your husband before the wedding night?” He asks, his huge hands coming to encircle your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“It's the best idea I ever had.” Winking, you turn around, moving along with the rhythm, rasing an eyebrow to see Laura dancing with Robert. That took some time, but you finally see something happening.

The rest of the party goes on wonderfully well, and when it's over, you go back home. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson offered to stay with Liam tonight, so you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You're not entirely surprised to find your bedroom all decorated with candles and roses. You love it, but before actually getting into bed, you completely fail on the self-control thing, joining Keanu in the shower.

But of course, it doesn't stop there, and in no time, the amazingly decorated bed is messed up, once again claimed as yours. And even though you're tired of the party and the ceremony, you can't stop. You can't have enough of Keanu, you can't have enough of finally being his.

×

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