#my in laws to be are here but like keep going back and forth between their hotel 20 mins away & everything is weird and we had a shitty

[damndude69]

had a margarita too early in the day & it’s completely fucked my head for the rest of the day I’m so fucking foggy & I had it around 1pm & took a nap. not drunk anymore just dissociating city over her. Ugh.

[netherfeildren]

Pink : Part II: I See Your Father as My Father

Series Masterlist : Part I : Part III

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Welcome to the father-in-law suck and fuck extravaganza; Fix-it-fic but the thing that needs fixing is a person; Daddy issues; Daddy kink; Divorce; DD/lg dynamics; Older man/Younger woman; Inappropriate relationships; Self esteem issues; Discussions of emotional and mental abuse; Unhealthy coping mechanisms; Ass play lite; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Praise kink; Aftercare; Size kink; Spitting; Come eating; Thigh fucking; Oral sex

A/N: Check the tags on the masterlist, as well!

Word Count: 12.3K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

2. I See Your Father as My Father

When he swings the door open, he’s still half pulling a t-shirt over his curl messed head, faded gray, rust orange longhorn across the front, a flash of hair sprinkled belly. All man, man, man. It stretches over his broad shoulders so the holes strewn there stretch and gape wide making your face heat unbearably. And he’s struck silent for a second, realizing it’s you taking up space on his front porch, trying to hide against the shadow of the wooden beam at your back, ringing his bell in the middle of the night like the Devil’s on your heels. Brow pulled low, he steps out onto the porch, into the shadows with you, his gaze flashing back and forth between your eyes. He says your name, and you hate it. “Did somethin’ happen? Are you alright?” And you want to say no, that nothing is alright. That you know you shouldn’t be here, but you’re here anyways now, and so he needs to tell you what’s going to happen next because this is as far as you’d planned. The sound of his voice, the sight of him, that’s as far as you’d planned. The rest is up to him now, even if he doesn’t know it. Your eyes fall down the long, broad length of him. Rumpled jeans, hastily pulled on, and his bare feet, oddly erotic. They’re paler than the rest of him, sun deprived, and briefly, ridiculously, you wonder if he has that funny sock tan men get around their ankles. The skin stretched over strong tendon and bone, beautifully arched. You give a tiny shake of your head, something like a whimper slipping up your throat. And you think he must realize or understand because he sighs, long and drawn out, dragging his palm over his mouth as he watches you struggle. You think that’s his tell, that dragging hand; he does it when he’s thinking, confused, worried, upset which leads you to worry that maybe he’s upset you’re here now, but it’s done, you’ve come. There’s nothing either of you can do to undo it now. Your eyes move back up to his face, and he’s taking stock of you now also. The soft, loose jersey shorts, too big pullover almost covering them entirely, the sleeves twisted around your clenched fingers. “You gotta tell me what you’re doin’ here, sweetheart. You gotta say it out loud.” You let out a rough, frustrated sound through your clenched teeth, looking away from him for a second.��

“We never talked about it,” you say instead because you want to hear him acknowledge it, you want that to be said out loud. 

He understands immediately, “You never gave me a chance to.”

You look back at him, he’s taken a step closer, and you wrap your arms back behind the beam, trying to meld yourself to the wood, keep yourself away from him.

“What else was I supposed to do? If we talked about it, it would’ve happened again.”

“Well, then that’s why – that’s why we never talked about it.”

“But did you want to?” And your voice breaks a little at the end, “Did you want to talk about it?”

He sighs again, a muttered curse under his breath. He isn’t going to give you the easy way out. “Tell me why he left you,” and you flinch. He, his son. It’s the truth, no reason to cower. You were left. You have to look away again, unable to confess this when looking into the kinder version of eyes that never loved you. 

“I think you know. I think you could tell from the very first moment you saw us together.” He hums his agreement, and the sound fucking hurts. “He never loved me. He never even really liked me, I don’t think. But that became okay after a while.” A tear falls, and you listen to the sound of him suck in a sharp breath; it makes you smile just a little, that small sound. You look back at his face, “I don’t want you to think I’m not okay with that now because I really am. It made me realize that he’d never been what I wanted or needed either. That he couldn’t ever give me what I wanted either.”

“And what’s that?” His voice sounds gentle, but you know that it’s put on. You know there isn’t going to be anything gentle about this. 

You choose to ignore that, “You know he said once, that I’d lied to him about who I was. But I didn’t– I really didn’t, Joel,” and you say it with such panic, or fervor, or something that’s desperate to ensure that he doesn’t think the same of you. That he doesn’t take you for a liar also. “He just couldn’t understand that this is the only way I know how to be. Being scared all the time makes you a liar. It makes you what the moment needs you to be no matter what that is. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what you mean,” but he looks nervous, the truth of him too close to the surface, and it soothes you. The two of you are the same, you knew it. 

You peek down at your twisted fingers, nails gnawed raw and bloody and disgusting. “I don’t think he ever loved me and that made me sad. But now, I don't think I ever loved him either, and that makes me sadder. It was all for nothing, I let him turn me into that thing for nothing, and I was always waiting for him to treat me better, different. But a person who can treat you badly once usually finds it quite easy to do it again.” You look back up at him, shocked for a moment at your sharp honesty. “I’m sorry. He’s your son. I shouldn’t say these things to you,” even thought it sounds like hypocrisy, for look at where you’re standing in the middle of the night.

“And you’re you.”

And the sober way he says it sobers you, recenters you. “Yes. I’ve always been only myself.” And it’s the truth, the most difficult one. That despite Sam’s claims that you’d made him believe you to be someone you weren’t, despite the sick desire for complacency, to please all those around you, you have always been only you. Even when they’d tried to force you to be something you weren’t, you were still always only yourself. You say it again, just to hear the sound of the words. 

“You gotta tell me what you’re doing here then. You want to talk about that? About what happened that night? Is that it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, that telling gesture over his stern mouth again. “If we do this, there’s no goin’ back, and I–”

“There already is no going back for me. I can’t forget. I can’t stop remembering.”

“It would be different– if we– if I take you, it’ll be different. You get me? I won’t be able to stop. I know myself well enough to know that. I won’t be able to stay away from you after.”

“I don’t care.”

“So that’s what you want?” But you can’t say the words out loud, you can’t, you can’t. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated by your own desire, small and slanted. Despite all your progress, and as much as you want it, you still know you shouldn’t. “I gotta fuckin’ hear it, sweetheart. Is that what you want?” You shake your head a little, another tear, wrapping your arms around yourself. You can see the fight in his eyes, trying to hold you off from the inside out. I don’t know, another tear. He makes a frustrated noise, turning to pace to the opposite end of the porch, hand fisted in his hair. When he turns back he seems to deflate, eyes going cool and steady and then, suddenly, like a ricochet, bright and light, a flash fire. Once more: “What do you want?” To be wanted. To be good. “You want me to kiss you? You want me to fuck you?”

And your eyes flutter closed in relief, there it is, finally, the hard part’s over. It’s been said out loud. “Yes, that’s what I want.” He’s on you in three ground eating strides, big hand wrapping around the contours of your jaw, the other fisting in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you up so that you’re balanced on the tips of your toes. Your eyes fall shut, mouth parting embarrassingly ready for him to kiss you, but he gives your head a little shake between his palms. “You’re supposed to belong to my son, goddamnit. I’m not supposed to want you like this. This is wrong.”

“I never belonged to him,” and then bitter truth, honesty laminated in humiliation, “And I don’t care if it’s wrong.” Followed by a thought, a wash of shyness, held in his hands as you are, large strong hands: there is a part of me that feels very innocent still, naive, experienced hands that will finally teach you how to be good. You watch the bob of his Adam's apple beneath the sun roughened skin of his throat, and when you look back up at his eyes, there is nothing like innocence, nothing like naivety in them, only the reflection of something complex, something more. He goes very still, almost vibrational with restraint, his fingers clench around you once, and then, with unbearable control, his hands flex open, releasing you. 

“Get in the house,” he says very, very quietly. You cup your own palm around the space of your chin where he’d gripped you and turn on your toes, scampering inside, into the home of the man who would have remained your father-in-law for the rest of your life had his son ever decided to love you. The door slams shut behind him. 

-

He steps into the dark restroom with a staying hand out and ready, as if approaching a wounded, rabid animal. 

His son, his son is a cruel and small man. Joel is coming to realize this with something like horror running in currents beneath his skin. Quick to anger, quick to aggression. And you, his daughter-in-law, no one knows this better than you do. He’d naively thought, when his fully grown son had appeared at his door steps all those months ago, that the question Joel had carried on the tip of his tongue for half of his adult life had finally been answered. Alone but never necessarily lonely, something like a film of boredom and monotony over his life. He was content with the place he’d made for himself; he had his business and his brother and friends, and Joel was fine. But a child of his own, he’d never expected it, never even considered it a possibility. And what he’d come to discover: his son, who shouldn’t still be a child, but in many ways, was. 

He licks at the groove of his molar as he watches the tremble of your back, trying to hide your weeping face in the shadows of the bathroom wall. A small, anxious thing that had been, out of everything, perhaps the biggest shock of all. To learn that he had a son, an entire life lost to time, and that there was someone in the world that his son should have loved enough to tie himself to – it was shocking. To discover that his son was married when Joel was not, disorienting. 

He says your name softly and watches the jerk of your frame, that vein of anxiety he’d sensed in you from the get go that he was fairly certain Sam had a large part in sowing. You’d shown up with your hair picked up today, only the second time you’ve ever worn it so. Piled messy at the top of your head, a few strands laying against the nape of your neck, the vulnerable slope of your shoulder. He feels strangely afraid of you, afraid for you. Unsure of what to say, heart beating out of his chest, rebounding against his ribcage so hard he’s sure you can hear it. “I’m sorry. He didn’t mean it. He–”

“Please, don’t apologize for him.” A tiny sniffle. “Don’t apologize for him,” you say again, and there’s a hum of exhaustion in your voice, brokenness, it makes Joel go from afraid to entirely terrified, but then angry too… angry too. He takes a step forward, another, he’s an arms length away from you now. He could touch you if he was brave enough. If the intent behind it wasn’t as wrong as it is. Angry because he’s looking at that vulnerable nape, imagining the fit of his palm molded over the delicate column, and you’re something to be taken care of. Something like a gift. Even though he doesn’t know you well enough to say such a thing yet, even though he shouldn’t be thinking such a thing about his daughter-in-law. Even though you hold yourself with a hard rigidness most of the time, quiet dignity and cold vulnerability that seem almost impossible to get through. And yet he suspects that with enough care and patience you could become immediately soft, easily penetrated. He should see his son as a gift, and he does, he does, he does, he swears he does. If Joel repeats it enough times in his mind surely he’ll come to believe it with his whole heart, but what he sees more than the gift of a child that was kept from him, is nothing but a boy beating down a creature that was not taught to defend itself. And that makes him angry beyond belief. 

Joel can be a hard man. He is a hard man. Perhaps, a large part of the reason why he’s still alone, why nothing more than a quick fuck ever seems to work out for him. Women like him, they enjoy his company, they come to bed with him easily. But Joel is hard and cold, and he’s never much minded his aloneness, a difficult thing to sell to a woman, the reality that he doesn’t really care to need anyone else. And so perhaps, this is his son’s inherited vice, that coldness, but despite Joel’s preference for solitude, for the fact that he doesn’t care about making a person stick around, he tries to never be cruel, and he is sure to never hurt those that are more easily hurt than himself. He doesn’t think there’s any worse sort of sin, and so he knows that this cruelty he’s witnessing didn’t come from him. But then he thinks that if it didn’t come from him, then it surely came as a consequence of him, of his absence, and so he is just as responsible for it. So he can’t help himself when, instead of more platitudes in favor of his gift of a son, he says: “You should leave him.” You let out a bitter sound of a laugh, something that pokes at that wound of fear of his. 

“Should I? I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to say.”

“Isn’t it? It’s the truth. It’s what you need to hear right now,” The sweetheart he adds at the end has a tiny shiver moving down the length of your spine that his own vertebrae can’t help but imitate. You hang your head, bearing more of that lovely nape, head seemingly bowed in supplication for something gentler than what his son can offer you, and he can’t help himself again. He wants to sink his teeth into that soft expanse of skin. You’re too pretty, pretty in all the ways a perfect thing can be, and Joel is a hard man, not a weak one, but he feels weak now. He feels brought to his knees, heavy stone of guilt weighing in his gut as he lays his palm on the back of your bared neck. Don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch, this doesn’t belong to you. He tightens his hand, grips the column, presses the calluses of his palm to the soft skin. “Look at me–” he gruffs, turns you by the pressure of his hand, a kitten gripped by the scruff and made to listen. “You deserve more than that shit.” That shit being his son, his blood. Joel is two feet tall and so ashamed he’s nauseous. But your eyes, they look up at him, tear filled and so lost, and he wants to show you how it should be. “You deserve more,” he says again. Later, he’ll tell himself he surely must have said the words out loud, asked for it with teeth and tongue. The blame can only be his, he provoked it, he soothed the wound, incited it, because you’re surging up and against him, fingers clawing at his shoulders and throat and pressing your mouth to his, clumsy and tear stained and open so that the first thing he tastes is your breath on his tongue, then your tongue on his tongue, and then absolution tinged with shame, gross desire like desperation. He groans like a dying man, clutching at you immediately, unthinking, pulling you into himself, soft, full tits against hard chest so that he feels like he’s burning and dying and coming back to life all with the taste of your spit and tears in his mouth. He holds you steady, hand still clamped to the back of your neck and thinks that if he’s going to commit a sin he might as well take his fill. He eats at you. Head held in place, knees bent and arm banded around your waist to bring you level with each other, he pulls your head back, mouth open and tries to swallow you whole. And Joel doesn’t think of his son, not for a single second, while he kisses his daughter-in-law.

His lips slide to your throat, hunting for your pulse, tasting the tiny flutter, going weak at the knees at the whimpered sound you make, cock harder than it’s been in years, a noise like begging, like more. He sucks hard at that thrum, but your noises shift to frightened, protesting, fingers digging into his shoulders to warn him. He can’t leave marks, he can’t leave marks on something that belongs to another. His erection is an iron band down the leg of his jeans, and he has to force himself not to thrust the aching cock into the soft apex of your thighs, feel your warmth there. He has to stop, he has to– to what? To let you go back to a boy that mistreats you? Even if that boy is his son, it’s wrong, it goes against everything Joel is as a man. He presses his face into the blistering heat of your throat, a muttered fuck under the ledge of your little chin. A rattling shiver has started up in you, teeth chattering with the force of it, and he bands his arms around you tightly, pressing the air out of your lungs, hand smoothing up to twist in the back of your hair and force you entirely still. “Don’t,” his voice is so deep he almost doesn’t recognize it coming out of his own mouth, “Don’t be afraid.” The sound of his popping knees as he unbends to his full height, your weight still in his arms. He lets you go in increments, slowly so as not to jar you further, hands holding tight until the last moment when he forces them to unclench, let you go. “Don’t be afraid,” he says again. “You did nothing wrong. This was all me.” Your eyes are huge, but you’re not crying anymore, and that feels like victory to Joel, despite the rest, the only thing that matters.

You run from him after that, because of course you do. What’s the other option? That he’d keep you there in that dark restroom, from his son and your marriage and the world, forever? He clutches at his chest and is swallowed whole by his shame and his guilt, the terrible fear that he isn’t the sort of parent that can blindly see past their child’s faults, love them despite everything else, not the type of man who can keep himself from wanting something he shouldn’t, he hadn’t felt so when he’d kissed you with that sick desperation on his tongue. And once he hears the sound of a slamming car door, and Sam’s truck peeling out of the drive and speeding away, he takes out his hard cock and fucks his fist until the heat of his semen is sliding over his skin, a handful of pathetic strokes and the sound of your name almost like a sob in the dark.

-

You listen to the sound of his bare feet padding across the wooden floor, and your head feels like it’s breaking water, seeing clearly for the first time in years. It’s a rich parquet, gleaming in the dim light of the street lamp glow. You wonder if he installed it himself, like the wallpaper, proof of the care and attention to detail in his home. You think you would like to be cared for as such also. There’s a soft green throw draped over the back of the chocolate leather couch, and you dig your fingers into it, twisting amidst the knitted weave as you turn to face him, and he has that look in his eyes again, the one from before. The one like too much, too much, the one like fear and want. Stopping just in front of you, the tips of his bare toes meet the front of your shoes, and he reaches to drag the pad of his thumb over the high slope of your cheekbone, the fine skin catching beneath his calluses. “You’re too beautiful,” he says, and you wish it sounded like an accusation, but it doesn't, and you want to tell him you don’t believe him, just to be difficult, just to be contrary, but you know he’s not the sort of man that lies. It only sounds like praise. His eyes are so dark in the shadow of the house, the green and brown and caramel striations gone away in the night, and he’s shifting his jaw, chewing on a thought before he spits it out. His other hand comes up to gently, so gently cup the other side of your face, and he holds you there, just so, angling you this way and that, appraising you, chewing, chewing slowly. “Too beautiful – I never even stood a chance,” he says more to himself than to you. This is a man that does things with intention. This is a man that sees you as a complexity, as something more. This is a man. “He told me something – last time we saw each other.” Your heart beats painfully in your chest, you can feel it in your eyes and ears and the backs of your knees.

“What’s that?”

“That the two of you were havin’ problems. In– in the bedroom. That–”

You try and jerk away, but he holds you trapped. “Stop. Please. Don’t–”

“Is that all this is? Older man – want me to teach you somethin’?”

Cradled as you are, you close your eyes, brow folding in a frown, unable to refute him with a shake for the way he’s captured you. You bring your own hand up to circle his thick wrist, fingers not meeting around it. He has hair here, your palm slides further down, hair here too. All man, man, man. No longer in the hands of a boy, and you’re touching him. Now you’re touching him too. “That very first time I met you– I wondered what you’d taste like. How heavy you’d be inside of me. If you’d be rough, leave marks, or gentle. You know I– I wanted– If he hadn’t been there, if–” Now he’s the one that begs you to stop. 

His hands on you are tighter now, almost strangling, squeezing a moan out of you. “Are you going to tell him?” His grip goes loose again, caressing. “ If we do this– are you going to use this against him? It’s yours to do with as you will, I just want to know beforehand. It won't change the way I have you tonight.”

“Only tonight?” Your voice sounding strange, hungry. 

His eyes move entirely around your face, taking you in, held as you are. His gaze is manic, fevered, but his words are slow, stacked one on top of the other for you. “No. No, I don’t think it’ll only be tonight.”

“I’m not going to use this against him.” For the first time in two years, what you’re doing, the decisions you’re making, have nothing to do with your ex-husband. This is only for you. Joel is only for you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he asks for the last time. 

“To be good,” you finally say, and the rough sound he makes, the flush you can faintly see crawling up the column of his throat, it has a painful knot of want tightening your cunt, the wet drip of slick pooling in your panties, all hot and bruised feeling on the inside. 

He lets his hands slide slowly from your face to hang loosely by his sides, and you take it as your invitation to touch him as you like now. He’s so much taller than you, your neck craning back to look up at his face. You start there, the crest of his cheek, the strong, curved nose, plush mouth that looks specifically made for kissing a cunt until it cries. He makes your thoughts feel savage, he makes you feel like something you’ve never been before. “You’re just a little girl, aren’t you?” He says softly. Your hands move down to his thick neck, and you try and cage him there, hands too small to circle him entirely, the insinuation of a strangling. Too small, too small, too small. You shake your head, mesmerized by the contradiction of your small fragility trying to capture all that strength held inside of him. You look up at his eyes, holding him around the throat as you are, and shake your head. You’re not. “Then what are you?”

“I don’t know. I want you to show me.” And that does something to him. You see the change come over him in that very moment, something chimeral in the change your words provoke. He’s made of nothing but vibrational restraint, giving you your moment of peace to explore him as you need to before he takes you for himself. You’re almost certain you can hear the sound of him grinding his molars to dust inside his mouth. And you want him to show you, it’s the truth. As wrong or whatever it is that it may be, it’s your truth. You’d always felt like you’d done being a woman the wrong way, a grating way, an unappealing way, but you didn’t want to be unappealing or wrong. You only wanted to be yourself. And worst of all, you’d been made to feel like that, over and over again, by the man who should have done nothing but the opposite. And you know it might be bad now, to want to be shown or that there was no right way, but still, but still, you want it. You would still like for someone, for Joel, to teach you how to be better, how to be good. Was that really so bad?

Your hands slide down to the thick muscles of his chest, thumbs dipping into the dents of his collarbones, lower to the soft of his belly, the edge of his jeans. The both of you are trembling now, you in lust, desperation, him in restraint maybe. There are beads of sweat dampening the curls at his temples. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Do you think so?”

He nods, but he’s cupping your elbows in his big hands anyway, pulling you towards him so that your breasts graze the top of his belly. “But we’re doin’ it anyway.” You go up on your tiptoes, hand cupping the sharp edge of his jaw to pull him down towards you, and he’s like a leashed wolf; heavy, hot breaths fanning across your face, and he slowly does as you bid, mint, mixed with something sharp like whiskey. He’s watching you so intently, watching to see what you’ll do with him, but your eyes are only on that soft wet mouth. You want his tongue inside of you, and that first press is so, so soft, barely there. A sound like dying, you can’t tell who it comes from, another soft brush, and you’re taking his top lip between both of yours, sucking on it lightly, hands snaking over his thick shoulders to bring yourself up closer so that he’s finally wrapping his arms around you, pressing you tightly to himself, belly to belly. He still hasn’t closed his eyes, he’s still watching you, and your heart is beating so fast and so hard and you want this so much that you’re sure he can feel it reverberating into his own chest cavity, spurring his own beating muscle on. You press another tiny kiss to his full, open mouth. “I’m scared,” you whisper onto his tongue, and he smoothes a staying hand down your spine, settling over the curve of your ass and squeezing there, holding you in his snare. He’s barely even touched you, and yet, you already know that no one else has ever been like this. 

“That’s alright. Got nothin’ to be scared of – I’m gonna be so gentle with you, baby.”

“I’m not your baby,” hint of an obstinate, provoking whine in your voice.

“But that’s what you are.” He changes the angle of his descent, and now he’s the one moving in for another tiny kiss. “Just a little baby.”

“And I don’t want it gentle.”

“You’ll take it how I say. How ‘bout that?” Another kiss, and now the taste of his tongue. You’d never forgotten it, the slick, hot slide of it, from that other time. He licks into you, takes away your ability to talk. In a single blink of an eye, less than a second’s thought, he’s taken all control from you, made the game his own, and now you’ve finally gotten what you’d come here for. Now you can finally say it out loud. He wraps a massive fist around the length of your hair and eats at your mouth, makes it his more than it’s ever been yours. All tongue and teeth and wet spit, the sound of his pleasure for you vibrating in your ears, and there is it, the pressure of his hard cock as he slides his hand lower, between your legs to feel the heat and damp of the pussy that’s wet only for him, pulls you further into himself. The heft of the bulge has you whining and squirming in his hold, clawing at his shoulders and the skin of his neck to climb up the length of him, get closer, get more. You want that cock, you want it inside of you, filling you with its weight and its come. You’ve wanted it from the first time you’d met him as his daughter-in-law, standing beside his son in the place of his wife. You’d wanted his cock more than you’d ever wanted his sons, and you’re only ashamed that you’re not ashamed at all. And he tastes that desperation on you, nips at your lip with a gruff settle, a little yank of your hair to tug your head back and unlatch his mouth from yours, sliding in a wet trail to your neck, settle, settle. He bites at the line of your throat, hard. Sucks even harder, leaves a mark, leaves a claim he wasn’t able to last time. The deeply rumbled sound that comes from him attests to his intention and your answering, whimpered mewl is nothing but a cry for more; I know, baby, I know, he whispers into your ear. His mouth moves down your chest, pulling the already stretched neck of your pullover wider to nuzzle at the deep groove of your cleavage. You want to ask him if he’s worried, guilty, if he’s wanted you for as long as you wanted him, if he was hard when you kissed him that night in his little wallpapered restroom, but then the heat of his mouth is clamping around your nipple and sucking, wetting the fabric of your top with his tongue, biting down at your breast, the sharp of his teeth clamping down around your sensitive flesh, nothing but your soft sleep bra beneath to protect you. You yank hard at his messy curls, trying to pull his punishing teeth away and pull yourself closer, all at the same time. His eyes flash up to yours, mouth latched at your breast, cheeks hollowing as he takes a hard, wet pull and there’s laughter in his gaze, hot and bright and infectious. “I’ll be gentle, but I’m not gonna be nice, baby.” He nuzzles into the wet spot left behind, presses another kiss, soft and conciliatory now over your throbbing nipple. “You want me to be nice? Want me to be nice to this little pussy?” He rubs the flat of his fingers over that desperate place between your legs as he turns to walk the two of you back towards the front of the sofa. There’s no response to be given, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He turns to sit, pulling you to remain standing between his spread thighs, hands wrapped around your hips. “Gotta use your words, pretty baby. I wanna hear what you want.”

“I want whatever you want. I want it however you want it,” you say through your flush and your shyness. You want to be honest, not a liar here in this moment with him. 

He lets his head fall forward to rest against your lower belly, nuzzles there, and you hear his whispered, Jesus, fuck, before he pulls back to look up at you, drags his palms down the back of your legs all the way to your ankles, nudging your shoes and socks off, and then sliding all the way back up, scratchy calluses making you shiver until he reaches the edge of your shorts and tucks the tips of his fingers there. “Take your shirt off,” he says gently, and you only pause for a second of timidity before you’re pulling it over your head, left only in your soft pink sleep bra not intended for the eyes of ex-father-in-law’s you’ve come to seduce. Your shyness flushes higher, burning your face, sprouting beads of embarrassed sweat at the nape of your neck. He untucks his fingers from the waistband of your shorts, smoothing his palms up the slopes of your curves, thumbs dragging up the plane of your belly, dipping into the dent of your navel to reach up and squeeze your breasts tight in his big hands, then pulls the straps down over your shoulders, the bra down over the curves of your breasts to leave them bare and heavy. And his eyes never leave yours as he gets you naked for himself, fingers sliding down your sides now to pull your shorts and panties and the scrunched bra down, the flush in his face deepening, heightening even though he’s yet to look at you. Don’t be scared, he whispers again, shaking his head a little when you wrap your arms around your breasts, trying to hide yourself away from him. When he’s taken your shorts from you, gripping each ankle to help you step out of their circle, he finally looks at you, takes in the entire bare expanse of your naked body, gently prying your arms from your breasts. “Lemme see, lemme see, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” He runs his hands all over you, the slope of your belly, lifts the weights of your tits in his palms to let them fall and sway heavily, down the outsides of your thighs and back up and around to squeeze the lush of your ass. He pulls you further towards him with that clutch on you and presses his nose into the apex of your thighs, nuzzles at the soft thatch of curls there, brings his thumb up to pet at it and breathes deep. “I like this – so pretty,” he tells you again. If it was possible for a person to die of shyness you surely would in this moment, but this was what you’d come here for, this was what you hadn’t been able to say out loud. He presses his nose there again, takes another deep breath, and then starts to mouth wetly, pressing soft kisses and then the wet of his tongue, licking and parting at your slick seam. He groans so deep it sends you to shivering, hands coming up to cover your face, to hide away from that sound of lust, the feral look in his eyes when he looks up at you with the taste of your cunt in his mouth. He starts to lap at you in earnest, closing his eyes in sheer enjoyment as he pets at your clit with his tongue, shifting his angle this way and that to get at you more deeply. He pulls one of your feet up onto the edge of the sofa to open you, and you’re jostled forward, catching yourself on his broad shoulder as he spreads and eats you. His hand on your ass shifts lower, searching for your opening from behind and starts to pet at you there too so that he’s coming at you from the front and the back, and it’s too much, his sucking mouth and probing fingers. Your standing leg buckles, and he’s forced to pull his mouth from you, steady you. You let your knees give out slowly, coming to a folded kneel between his legs. He leans forward, mouth glossy with your slick and pulls your face to his, chin pinched between his fingers to kiss you, and the taste of you on his tongue sets something off within you.

Suddenly, your shy insecurity doesn't really matter as much with the flavor of your pussy on his tongue. You surge up on your knees, pressing closer to him, pulling him to you with your arms twisted around his neck, moaning into his mouth as you taste the sweet muskiness on his tongue. Like kindling catching fire in your veins you start to claw at him, pulling at his clothes, his hair, scratching at his skin. He half pulls you up and on top of him, your steaming hot form, entirely bare and naked on top of his clothed one. You can feel the heft of his cock against your belly, grinding there, trying to find whatever friction possible, and he makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, pushing you back down onto the floor and pulling back to open his jeans. He’s panting and sweating, chest heaving and cheeks flushed a bright red. He wants you just as much as you want him. And it’s bad, it’s bad and wrong to compare, God knows, but when he finally pulls his cock out, he’s not wearing anything beneath his jeans, you know that this is a man unlike your husband ever was; long and thick, fucking big, swollen, flushed tip peaking out from soft surrounding skin, leaking a clear slick of drool. He takes it out and sits back, pushing his hips forward to settle into his seat and stretches his long legs on either side of you. You listen to the sound of the scooting coffee table as he shoves it back with his foot. His cock arches obscenely from his open jeans, and you reach up slowly, a little intimidated, to circle it with your fingers delicately. “You’re so hard,” you whisper. 

He drags a gentle hand over the crown of your head, pulling the hair tie from your ponytail as he goes. “This is how much I want you. This is all you.” He circles his big hand around your much smaller one, squeezes his big cock tighter with both of your hands, and you flush with a pleasure so intense it’s almost painful. You can make a man hard, the proof is right here in front of you. 

He’s uncut, and that’s doubly intimidating. “I’ve never seen one like that,” he pulls your hand up slowly with his, squeezes and twists hard at the sticky wet tip. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he croons, looking down at you with a maniacal sort of glint in his eyes. “Just open your mouth,” he wraps his other hand around your jaw, “You don’t need to see it if it’s inside you,” wedges his fingers between your molars over the skin of your cheeks, prying your mouth open. You bend your head forward, tongue hanging out, and he taps the heavy weight of his cock there, jostles the wet tip slightly from side to side, the wet sticky sound of it has your pussy clenching around terrible emptiness. He slides his hand up your cheek, twists his fingers through your hair and directs you how he wants you, slides his cock further back on your tongue, and you wrap your lips around him, give him your first real suck, tongue swirling gently around the fat head. Pulling back with a sharp hollowing of your cheeks, he squeezes his fist around yours almost painfully, and you press an open mouthed kiss at the spongey tip, gently tonguing the slit, lapping at it with the flat of your tongue like a little kitten. The sight of you licking his dick has him groaning, bearing the white line of his teeth at you. 

“You taste so good,” you say up at him with big wet eyes, “Like I always imagined you would.”

“Fuck–” he snarls, “Killin’ me,” and he’s jerking you up off the floor roughly, pulling your knees apart to settle you in a straddle on his lap, pressing you close with a hand on your ass so that the wet heat of your cunt is meeting the heat of his cock. The both of you groan like it hurts, like you’ve been waiting for this for longer than is right, and he pulls your mouth back to his, wet and messy, sucking on your tongue, gripping your hair so tightly, your eyes smart and water. You claw at his shirt, pulling it up, trying to get at his skin, and he pulls back suddenly, frustratedly ripping it over his head, and then coming back to your mouth, single minded in his dedication to having the taste of you on his tongue. You try and grind down on him, but he hitches you up higher so your breasts are level with his face. “This’ll be over ‘fore it’s even begun if we’re not careful,” he laughs as he settles you, cunt leaking against his stomach and turning the hair there sticky sweet with your slick, and slots his hand between your thighs, gives you something to rub yourself against while he kisses you. “Oh, baby, you’ve got the wettest little cunt,” he says between kisses, lips sliding down to suck at your neck, lifting your breast to his mouth to lick and bite at your swollen nipple. 

And past sense, past restraint, you beg: “I want your cock, please, I want it so badly.” 

“Nuh uh,” he grunts, “Not yet. You’re not ready.”

You whine and beg that you are, you promise you are, but he only sucks at your tits harder, presses his hand harder between your thighs, and you can literally hear the wet squelch of your pussy as you ride his palm, your clit grinding against his belly on the forward slide as you work yourself up into a frenzy, wet whimpers and a pathetic little tear or two slipping out in your frustration to come. Need you nice and soft to take me, sweetheart, he murmurs into the tender skin beneath your chin, but he decides to be kind, crooking his finger just so that it brushes up against your clit, setting off a shivery little orgasm fluttering through your belly. He laughs softly, humoring the silly little thing wiggling around in his lap that’s so desperate to come, decides to be kinder halfway through your orgasm and starts to slowly press a single thick finger into your hungry, clenching hole. Shit, you hear his curse, while you moan and cry into his shoulder, mouthing and biting at the sun freckled golden skin there, gnawing on him like some rabid thing. And then he says, a little teasing: “Just from this, huh? Just from a little wiggling around on daddy’s lap?” sending a wash of agonized relief through you as he wedges a second one of those thick, thick fingers inside to stretch you further. It’s what you’d wanted to call him from the first moment. Just one more thing said out loud. You nod your head against his shoulder, a whine and a breath and daddy, daddy, daddy, as he stretches you; make that sound again, he begs and pets and coos at you, yes, yes, I could come from that sound alone, gives you all the patience you’d always needed. “Look at all this slick you’ve made to take my big cock in your little cunt, baby. What a good girl you are.” He twists his wrist, fucks space into you with his fingers, “You’re so fuckin’ tiny – how’re you gonna take me in this little thing, huh?” He bites down on your soft breast, encourages the sway of your hips with his fingers hooked inside of you. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” presses a kiss to your forehead, scratchy beard against the sensitive skin there, gently stroking you into another orgasm around his fingers, petting at something raw and bruised feeling inside of you, sending you to tears. 

He pulls his fingers from you slowly once you’re done, leaving your body to tighten and gape around terrible emptiness, and you feel the wet smear of your come on your asscheek where he grips you, searches and pets your asshole to slick it with your wet. “You want daddy to fix you?” He says then, “Want me to make you all better? S’what you want, right?”

You nod slowly, sniffle, “Make me good,” you mumble into his neck. 

“But you’re already good,” and he takes away all your choices, the ability to argue or refute, “You’re already so good. A perfect, gorgeous girl.” Kindling in your veins, madness, something more desperate than anything else you’ve ever felt in your entire life, true hunger. Worse than your desire for your father to understand you, to love you, to not be angry, your fight to keep a husband that would have never stayed. You reach for his cock, trying to impale yourself on it blindly, shifting to press the hot, blunt head at your wet opening. He moans like a dying man, “Wait– wait, lemme get a condom.” He sounds like he’s begging. 

“No, please, now.”

“Fuck– fuck, you’re so eager to jump on my bare cock without a rubber or anything.” But it’s only because no one has ever touched you like this, and when he grips the thick root of his cock and notches it as your cunt, pushes inside slowly, you realize he’s doing it in a way that makes you understand the difference between the man and the boy. 

“I need to feel your skin,” you sound like you’re begging now too. Sighing in relief when he starts to stretch you, when it starts to hurt. It’s slow going, fitting the largeness of his body into your much smaller one. But his hands are steady and soothing as he works you down another inch, another, let’s you fuck yourself on his cock. Murmured praises and all of his desire for you and yeah, just like that, take daddy’s cock, until he’s fully seated inside of you, holds you down, presses and grinds there, thick tip made fatter by his foreskin kissing your cervix. Finally, he pulls you back by the hair, and your father-in-law’s cock is inside of you. “Want you to look at me while I teach you how to fuck– how to take a cock,” because he knows, because he’s always known, had the gross ability to read you exactly as you are. He shifts his hips back, presses up, up, up, inside of you, and his eyes are so beautiful, and he teaches you how to take a cock, not a little girl now, only a woman. You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss his face, lick his tongue, nibble on his ears, feel him all over, he’s all over and everywhere, and it should maybe be humiliating, riding the cock that made the man that was your husband, it should feel wrong or something like a sin, but it only feels, instead, like it was made for you. Like this is where you should have been all along. Once you’ve adjusted, he grips your hips tight and harsh, makes your skin smart enough you know you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers and pounds up into you, the slick slide of your cunt sucking him deeper, taking him as hard as he wants to give it to you, swollen and sensitive, squeezes your ass and grunts and moans and says, yeah, baby, bounce on this fat cock, like it’s the only thing you’d ever have to do for the rest of your life. You wish it was. And the sounds he makes, that’s what really makes you come again, what sets off your orgasm while you’re riding him – the desperate, rough sounds of a man fucking up into a tight, hot cunt that’s wet only for him. It coils in you so tight it hurts, it hurts, and then goes loose and fluttery, pussy flooding around his thrusting length. You can’t even moan, mouth hanging open, proably drooling a little, probably crying a little, nothing but hot air and wet and not a little girl anymore, only a woman, and he doesn’t gentle, fucks you harder, rougher, squeezes your ass and chases his own orgasm. His thrusts going sloppy and uneven, his moans turning to cracked whimpers. 

“I’m not on birth control… but– but my period’s soon,” you whisper into his ear, and he makes a noise not wholly human, going still for a moment, throbbing inside you, thinking, thinking of the risk, decides he doesn’t give a fuck by the murmured,  fuck it, I have to, and starts to move again, harder, hurting on every punch up against the mouth of your womb. I have to, is what he says, and that settles something inside of you. “Gonna come in this pretty, tight cunt. Gonna make it all mine.” You decide you don’t really give a fuck either. “Make daddy come. Squeeze down on daddy’s cock – yeah, just like that. You wanted to play at being the big girl? Now m’gonna treat you like one – gonna fuck you full, baby.” And you’re nothing but want and yes and please and thank you, daddy. And that first spurt, that hurts too, burns you, changes something inside of you that you know will never go back to the way it was before. You’ll want that hurt for the rest of your life, and you won’t ever be able to forget it, and it might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, but the heat of it spurs on another small orgasm of your own, jars you with the swell and throb of his cock, fills you till the come from your cunt is leaking down onto his slick balls and the leather beneath. And he holds you through the whole thing, stroking and squeezing and tasting, taking sips of your mouth, pressing his breath back into you, breathing life into you. No longer a ghoul in the night either. You feel him go soft and yet still heavy inside, a muted bruise against your womb, sighing frequently as you settle, little kittenish sounds that have his spent cock stirring lazily inside of you while you leak and leak and leak and go drowsy and then just on this side of fully asleep. 

“Are you okay?” You remember to ask in a small voice while his fingers play gently in the wet where you’re connected. 

He makes a soft sound, like he’s humoring you, like you’ve surprised him. “Course I’m okay,” presses a kiss to your forehead. 

When he shifts you off of him to stand, a protesting whine at the back of your throat, he shucks his jeans off with a soft grunt, finally as naked as you’ve been the whole time, and his cock hangs heavy between his legs, shiny with your cunt as you stare up at him while he looks down at you. Afraid for a brief uncertain second before he’s lifting you in his arms, and when he carries you to his bed after, you feel terribly like a child. Again that naivety, that hope, but it isn't a bad thing, here and now with him. Not something to be used against you, not a bruise or a wound or a lost limb, and you haven’t failed at being good because he’s already made you so. 

-

You’re pressed right up beneath his chin when he wakes up. Your soft, warm form all along his side, lush tits and the vulnerable slope of your belly against his skin, and it feels so intimate, entirely twined around him as you are. He brings his palm up to cup the small bowl of your skull, and in the hushed morning light, your mistake breathes life into the world. Joel has always been a hard man. Joel has always been a hard man, but never weak, and certainly, not good, per se, but never cruel. But there’s something like weakness, there’s something that should be like cruelty here, waking up with you bare, still leaking his spend in his bed, and Joel can’t tell if that weakness, that cruelty is his, born of him or of his own making, he only knows that it should be here, probably is here. It’s difficult to gauge the moral acumen of what he should or should not be feeling when he has you like this beside him. And most confusing of all, that it actually feels nothing like a mistake. Only like it was always meant to happen, and now it finally has. 

He’d come inside of you, worst of all, sense gone away in the night, couldn’t claim exemption from weakness now, filled you until you’d leaked down his balls, the woman who’d been the wife of his son, and he should feel guilty, he should feel disgusted with himself. A betrayer of his own child. But all he feels is that he needs it again. That he needs you again. That if he could, he’d keep you. 

Joel had never wanted children. The thought or desire had never really crossed his mind… and yet– You make a sweet little keening sound in your throat right before you open your eyes, and he feels the stretch and wiggle of your little toes against his shins, the flutter of your long lashes against the tip of his chin. “Good morning.” Soft hand coming up to cover his mouth, hold him in place while you wiggle and slither all over him. 

“How do you feel?” He’d expected you to be shy, regretful, nervous waking up, and to find you entirely not, to get to wake up to you like this, soft and warm and lovely in his bed smelling of his come and his sweat, smiling that pretty little smile; it’s the mightiest sort of victory. You drape yourself on top of him, all soft limbs and softer tits, and the heat of your cunt pressed against his belly as you nuzzle into his chest hair. You’re different now, compared to before, that exhaustion he’d sensed is closer to the surface now, more easily visible, as if your body’s been collecting it, pulling it from the depths of you, getting ready to finally expel it. But there’s a clarity about you now too, you’re tired, but you’re also more yourself. Or on your way there. So lovely it hurts, vulnerable and fragile but entirely yourself. Afraid too, he can tell, because it’s your right to be afraid, because it’s normal, because we’re all afraid sometimes. “Sore?” Another nuzzle, and then, settling on your cheek to look up at him with those gorgeous eyes that’d damned him from the very first moment. 

“Just a little.”

“You did so well last night,” he pets your hair slowly. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you.” And oh, you like that. Blooming, the temperature in your body seeming to spike suddenly, suffusing all your limbs, radiating from your belly. Shifting and squirming on top of him. His half hard erection, trapped between the two of you, aching already, and you try and rub yourself all along its length, hitching a knee up by his hip to open yourself. He gives you a rough sound to settle, but you want something from him now, trying to rub your wet pussy all over him. If he was younger, a man of less control, he’d be fucking into you already and without thought. “It’s time for listening now, little girl.” He grips your hair tightly, tilting your face up to look at him, uncurls his fingers to cup the small bowl of your skull and hold you in place. “Sometimes people need time, sometimes they need us to be patient with them, wait for them. That’s what you needed, and there ain’t anything wrong with that. And you’re not gonna feel bad or less for getting there a little more slowly than others. Everything comes in its due time, and that’s okay.” You’re staring up at him, wide eyed, something like fear or panic, but you’re going to listen to him if it’s the last thing he does. He fists your hair again, gently forces your head into a nod. “Agree with me now. Say yes.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper very softly, pressing up to peck him lightly on the mouth. He catches you by the nape, a kitten picked up by the scruff, and holds you there, immediately turns the kiss wet and savage. You feel, so much, like you’re his, and this terrifies Joel. You aren’t his to keep, he knows this. He is not unaware of what’s happening here, of the consequences. He is not delusional about how this will end. But still, but still, you feel like his. 

You’re back to you’re squirming now, whines and pleading moans as you try and rub yourself against his cock, and he reaches down to cup you, gently fingering at your folds, feeling the havoc he’d wrought on your pussy last night. “You’re so swollen, baby. Can’t fuck you again so soon.”

“Please, daddy, please, please. I can take it, I promise.”

“Not gonna hurt my soft little cunt.” The start of another whine, but he cuts you off, gives you a staying look, cranes his neck to lick into your mouth. “I’m not.”

“I want you so badly. I want you to make me come.” Tiny kisses and kitten licks to his jaw and throat. There’s fire in his belly, cock throbbing something fierce. He grips beneath your knee, opens your leg and pulls back to slot his cock between your thighs, up against your slick, swollen cunt, then presses your thighs closed back together tightly. 

“Just like this – how ‘bout that?” He says as he starts to thrust up slowly against your pussy, trying to keep his movements gentle, careful not to hurt you. He runs his palms along the length of you, squeezes your tits and pinches and plucks at your swollen, sucked dark nipples. The signs of him are all over your body, and it makes him something like wild, infuses him with something like madness. Joel has never felt like this about any woman, ever. And to have it be you – to have this happen to him with you, there is something like weakness and like cruelty here. He needs to keep his head on straight. Remember what can and cannot be. He squeezes your ass tightly, digs his short-shorn fingernails into your soft cheeks, brings one hand up to get his fingertips spit slick, and then pulls your cheeks apart again to pet at your asshole. His gut goes tight and fire hot, he wants to fuck you here too. He wants all of you to be only his, his, fucking his. You hitch your hips in a desperate little arc as he presses gently on the tight ring of muscle, teasing you. “You like that?” He gruffs. “Want me to fill your little ass too, sweet girl?”

Yes, daddy, and he’s sure those must be the greatest words ever uttered to any man in all history. 

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he says while you sing and moan for him. “When I touch you like this,” he moves down to the wet mouth of your cunt, taps on it gently, “And like this,” further, a flutter at your clit while he fucks between your thighs, “And the way you cry when you come for me,” back up to press at your asshole again. “Will you do it for me again?” Christ, he’s going to end up taking you if he doesn’t stop, and he will not hurt you. With a rough sound of frustration, he flips the two of you over suddenly, laying you flat, kneeing your thighs open wide and spread for him. He shakes his head down at you, squeezes his eyes shut because the sight of your bare tits and messy hair and swollen lips, cock hungry blurry eyes, isn’t helping his restraint. “Gotta stop provokin’ me.”

“But it’s so fun, daddy,” you whine, arching to brush your breasts up against his chest. He lets his head fall, opens his mouth wide and takes the whole, heavy weight of your tit into his mouth, sucks hard, bites soft, switches to the other one, gives it the opposite. He pulls back then, going to his knees between your spread thighs and holds you open for inspection. Cunt all red and swollen and shiny with slick just for him. He’s sure if he pressed his fingers inside he’d be able to feel the slippery slide of his semen still. Another shake of his head, and he runs his palms down the soft of your thighs, cups the round of your knees in his palms. You jerk the right one back when he squeezes you there, and he fingers the sore spot, “What’s this from?” bends forward to press a soft kiss to the small hurt. 

“I was in a rush last night,” you say shyly. 

“Rush for what, silly girl? I was right here waitin’ for ya.” Your face does a little spasm at that, confused and vulnerable and then maybe even a little hurt, brow crumpling, and you squeeze your eyes shut. When they spring open again, they’re feverish, “Please, please, fuck me, Joel. Please, I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t–”

“Quit.” He pinches the inner slope of your thigh. “Not gonna convince me to hurt you.” You moan, frustrated and wanton, on the verge of tears, petulant and trying to twist away from him, but he traps you in place, stretches himself over you, propped up by one thick arm, and you drag your palms all down the length of his chest and belly. He squeezes your jaw with his other hand, pries you wide, “Open, lemme see.” He tilts your face this way and that, inspecting the wet gleam of your mouth, your little tongue and shiny, white teeth. 

“Wha’re y’lookin’ for?” You mumble with your jaw wedged open, eyes comically large. 

“Hmm, wonderin’ what it’d look like filled with my come,” he says with a laugh. He feels like a teenage boy, all the excitement of discovering sex with a woman for the first time. And it makes his stomach hurt a little bit, his heart pinch in fear. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, widening the angle, “You think my cock’ll fit in that little throat?” And you moan, eyes fluttering shut, writhing beneath him, begging for it, a garbled groan that sounds something like please, let’s find out. “Dunno… should we?” He let’s go of your face, goes back to his kneeling position between your legs, and finally gives his aching cock the relief of his fist squeezing tightly around it. He could come just from the sight of you, he’s sure, is just there on the edge already. He squeezes hard, almost painful at the root, sliding up dry, scratchy calluses catching at the soft skin around his head to make it hurt and sting, strangling the heat he feels pooling at the base of his spine and in his balls. He smiles at the memory of your wide, comically shocked eyes when you’d realized he was uncircumcised. I’ve never seen one like that before, and all he’d stupidly wanted to say was that you’d never see any other ever again. Ridiculous. 

He drags his thumb over the head of his cock, through the sticky drool of precum there, then reaches to pet through your slick soaked folds, parting you down the middle. You watch him with wide, wet eyes, as he pops his thumb into his mouth, humming around your combined tastes. “You wanna taste how good we are?” All you’re able to manage is an open mouthed nod. He leans forward and over you again, “Open,” he orders, and spits onto your waiting tongue, hand clamped around her jaw. “Close now – swallow. How’s that taste?” He asks when you obey so nicely. Your eyes flutter shut, jaw shifting from side to side as you savor the taste of your shared want for each other. 

“S’good. Want more.” You look back up at him, mouth open, and nothing in his whole life has been scarier than this. Not even a twenty something year old son, who should have been a man, but was still nothing but a child in such desperate need of his father, showing up on his doorstep one day out of the blue. There should be guilt in that Sam-shaped spot inside his chest, he’s sure of it, and maybe there is, maybe there’s a bitter ribbon of guilt threaded all the way through him, but it’s also entirely overpowered, overshadowed by the desire he feels for the little girl splayed out beneath him. He pulls back again, tries to temper the rising heat in his core, takes hold of his cock again and starts to slowly jack himself. “Finger that little pussy, lemme see. Be gentle with her.” But he grips your hand right as your fingertips are about to make contact with your glossy folds and brings them to his mouth, spit slicking them, there you go, before giving them back. You play in your wet, watching mesmerized as he slowly jerks himself off to the sight of you, circling your swollen clit, thrumming at it gentle, gentle, be soft with her, petting at the leaking mouth, winking at him, begging to be filled. He shifts closer, squeezing and twisting at his tip, pulling the skin back to make the bulbous dark head bulge. He wants it to hurt, he deserves for it to hurt. You watch the rough handling of himself like you’ve never seen anything like it before, head tilted on your neck so your cheek is squished against your shoulder to get a clear view of what he’s doing to himself. “You want it so bad,” he teases, and you nod, looking back up at his eyes. He shifts forward a little closer so that the backs of his knuckles are brushing up against your sex now, wet and sticky, and you let your fingers trail up his wrist, his forearm, while he quickens his pace, moves against you, over himself. You spread yourself a little wider, bringing your knees up higher to your chest, opening yourself for him, and he pulls his hips back a little, you want to come, he can see it in your eyes, you’re almost there, presses the tip to your wet clit, slides down the to the hungry mouth, circles, circles there, presses just a tiny bit. You’re nodding your head up at him, goading him on, please, please, just do it, please. “Not gonna,” he gruffs. “Not gonna convince me.”

“You’re so mean,” you cry, arching your hips, writhing, trying to find firmer pressure. 

“Didn’t I tell ya last night I wasn’t gonna be nice?” But he takes pity on you, presses the fat head just a little harder, gives you just the tip, grinding breathlessly against it, popping it in and out of your hot little cunt. “Better?” His whole body feels like one boiling vat of hot blood, sweaty and desperate, grunting, more animal than a man. “Gotta come just like this.” He quickens the jerk of his fist, bumping it into your clit on the slide forward, watches the stretch of your cunt taking just the first inch of him. He feels unhinged, thinks for one second of just fucking all the way in, hearing the sound of your cry as you take the hurt. He has to be able to do this all again, entirely, have you again the whole way “God, baby,” he groans, “You’re gonna let me fuck this tiny little pussy again, right? Tell me you’re going to let me fill it with my cock again?”

Please, please, daddy. Please. “Just do it now.” Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything like the sound of you begging for his cock, anything as pretty, ever. “I– I need to–”

“I know what you need, baby. Just let daddy put his come in you, and then I’ll take care of you.” He’s just there, one last harsh squeeze and twist, and there’s warmth flooding his cock and balls as he starts to come for you, covering the entirety of your sex with his white milky spend, groaning like he’s dying. He pulls his hand from his spent cock, smearing his semen into your skin, little begging whimpers of his name and daddy, please from your mouth, and he spreads your legs and lowers his mouth to your swollen sex, eats his own come out of your cunt, pressing two fingers inside, slow and gentle as he can, to give you something to bear down on. He laps softly at your clit, soothing the ache, eats you until you’re going tight as a fist, cunt sucking his fingers as deep as it can and gushing all over his face, slick pooling in his palm where he laps and slurps at it when he’s unlatched his mouth from your pulsing clit. 

“I don’t think I can stay away from you,” he tells you later, while he dresses you slowly, sits you on the bathroom counter and brushes your teeth for you with his own toothbrush and combs the knots and gnarls out of your hair. Holds your cheek cupped in the palm of his hand as he drags a warm washcloth over your sweaty face. 

“Don’t want you to stay away,” you say in a small voice as you paw at his chest, twisting his t-shirt in little grabby fingers, pulling him into the cradle of your hips with sharp heels at the small of his back; needy, needy, needy thing. And worst of all, a sick part of him, something bitter sitting heavily on his tongue, wants to be the thing you need, the thing you’re desperate for, the thing you cry those pretty tears for. He’s weak now, he is. Joel finds in himself that he does have the capacity to be a weak man when the moment demands it of him. He shucks the washcloth into the sink, cups your face in his hands like something precious. He’d said once you were a gift, he’s sure of this now more than ever. 

And he tells you, because he knows he must: “We can fuck, but we’re not allowed to fall in love,” and tells himself that he only imagines the glint of defiance in your eyes when he says it. 

- That meeting in the dark had stayed with you, the sound of his voice telling you to leave his son, that you deserved better. The sound of his kindness, you’d stretched toward it like a flower seeking the light, the singular attention of a man like that. You’d gone over the memory of it over and over again in your mind, worn the edges of it until it was faded and worn. And when Sam had served you the divorce papers, and you’d all but gotten on your knees and begged him to please, please, stay, please, don’t leave me alone, that sound of kindness had been what you’d clung to through all the rest. That terrible clamor of failure and abandonment and not good enough, his kindness had remained, and you’re sure now, that it had brought you here too, to his home, to his bed, into his arms. This was where you’d always been meant to end up, perhaps, even from that first moment you’d met Sam all those years ago on the college green, in the arms of his father. Nothing could feel wrong after kismet like that, even if you weren’t allowed to fall in love.

Part III

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5k!!! Ok ok, hear me out on this request because I think it might make a good little fic. I can’t decide between Hesh or Price for this one but I got a general idea: stoned Hesh or Price. You know those videos of husbands waking up from surgery and not recognizing their wife right away but knowing they’re the most beautiful person in the world (something like this: https://youtu.be/kV8KyeApBJY). Well maybe it’s something like he got hurt from a mission (hurt enough to require drugs/anesthesia for the plot) but is recovering back at base and imagine their wife is their medic and she’s trying to update his team on how he’s recovering and you just got a stoned Hesh or Price completely hopped up on drugs following his injury, just fawning over her and he just goes bananas when she “reveals” they’re married. The team got a kick out of it

—Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

You walked around the room, tidying up what you could if only for the simple fact that it could distract you from the unconscious body in the bed. Realistically as a medic, you knew he would be fine—he was in the best hands possible—but Hesh had a track record for being unpredictable. 

He’d gotten into some trouble out in No Man’s Land again. Broken arm and ribs; a bullet through his thigh. He was so pumped full of medication and anesthetics from surgery that you doubted that he would be waking up soon.

But then again, Hesh was always surprising you. It was one of the reasons you’d married him, after all. Never a dull day.

Elias’s voice calls from the doorway. 

“You’re going to fall over at this rate,” you blink quickly, turning with an extra blanket in hand to spread around your husband’s comatose state. 

Your father-in-law has his arms crossed, and Logan slinks his way through the doorway with an arm looping your shoulders, a head pushed into your scalp silently. You sigh deeply, tension that you hadn’t realized was on your face lessening.

“Only if he keeps me from seeing those greens of his.” 

Logan huffs a laugh, squeezing you as his father grunts—the stern man’s eyes softening in a way they only would for you and his boys.

“He’d be more worried about you than himself if you did. Put my mind at ease, okay?” Your eyes roll but you nod with a small smile. You don’t argue with his point in the slightest. 

So, that was how you ended up here, in a seat by Hesh’s hospital bed—your hand in his and your head nodding back and forth with fatigue. Elias and Logan are casually playing a game of chess from across the room when David’s eyes flutter; his mouth releasing a low groan.

Your lids snap back, spine straightening, but before you can get a word out, your husband is pulling his hand from yours. His green eyes are loopy, pupils blown wide. 

He mutters something under his breath, lips grimacing and face pulling in at the sight of you. 

“Hesh?” The two men stand as you check his vitals, heart hammering until there’s nothing out of the ordinary and you can sit back down with a sigh and a relieved smile. “Take it easy, alright? You got out of surgery a little while ago—everyone’s here for you—”

“W…Where’s my wife?” His words slur, jaw loose as he rotates it; the unbroken arm with an IV chord stuck in it raises as jerky digits rub at his eyes. You’re left at a loss, blinking slowly in confusion before sharing looks with your in-laws. “No offense, Miss, you’re pretty and all, but…shit, why’s everything spinning?”

A hand covers your mouth, heated embarrassment lighting inside of your veins. 

“Hesh, Sweetheart,” your arm reaches to the brunette, trying to grab his wrist that he weakly moves away. 

“Stay away from me,” he grunts, head limply lulling on its pillow. “Thought I told you to keep it to yourself. My Wife’ll rip,” Hesh’s voice fizzles, a loud yawn peeling his bandaged face back, “you to pieces.” A pause. You hear Logan trying to hide his loud laughter behind his lips. “Did…the doctor send you?”

Your body turns to Elias, face beaming and expression exasperated. 

“Now that he’s awake will you get the other three? It’ll be easier to give the news to all of you at once.”

“Already commed ‘em,” the man states, watching his eldest with a raised brow and a slow smirk. “Least we know he’s a loose cannon on anesthesia.” 

Merrick, Keegan, and Ajax all file in, and as you continue to watch over a loopy Hesh, his small noises and babbling continue even when you give the breakdown of the patient sheet. You stand just shy of brushing the bed’s lower frame. You won’t lie and say it isn’t hilarious.

“He needs to keep out of the field for at least two and a half months, boys, and I’m not joking about that, alright?”

Your husband’s slow voice slashes through your speech, and the rest of the Ghosts snicker, sharing knowing looks as Hesh tries to lift the hand currently wrapped to his chest to keep it still. “You’re a real beautiful lady, Doll, y’know that? I’m sorry you like me so much, but I love my wife, you hear? Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Hesh, Darling,” you walk closer and bend down carefully. He blinked owlishly at you, finger coming up to poke at your cheek. Your hand grabs his as you hear Ajax make a quick remark to Keegan about the man being ‘totally whipped even when he’s high.’ 

“David, hey,” your voice prompts him to smile, perhaps now only realizing the familiarity of it. “I’m going to tell you something, hm?”

“Okay,” he watches, petting your neck with his thumb. 

“I am your wife.” The man’s eyes widen comedically as everyone shares a long laugh with one another. 

“No way,” Hesh breathes after a moment, awe-stricken. “Really?”

“Really.” There’s a moment of silence, and then the heart monitor begins to pick up its pace to a fast pound. Your face goes hot with love, and you bend your head forward in a long and honest laugh into his shoulder. 

Green eyes shift to the men, and Hesh beams, cheeks red and heart racing as he slurs out, “This is my wife?!”

It was safe to say they were never going to let him forget about this.

[bambi-kinos]

Thank you so much for replying to my ask! Sorry for the long reply back but I just love discussing these two.

Yes the rock and roll lifestyle and Paul’s infamous cheating before Linda has me very sceptical about him being 100% faithful to Linda too. That Jane Asher story is insane! The idea of Wings being a way to keep an eye on it is very interesting and not implausible at all. However in my opinion, Linda gives me the impression of someone with a strong sense of self, who would decide to walk instead of being disrespected in that way.

I also find it strange that decades and decades on, no one has said anything other than Paul being absolutely devoted to Linda. Not even anonymously, someone who doesn’t like Paul could seriously hurt his reputation spilling that information, not to mention the potential money, fame from it ect. This goes hand in hand with having a sexual relationship with John. I mean, surely they couldn’t have hidden it from everyone. Some people must of known, and not just an inner circle of loyal friends. Take tour managers or hotel staff for example.

So why do you think nothing has come out all these years later?

What comes to mind is the phone call Paul had with a biographer very soon after John’s death (I’m sorry I’ve forgotten his exact name) where he secretly recorded all he said and later published it. (Ouch!) Paul’s completely baffled at Yoko’s statement that no one had hurt John more than Paul had. (Said by John himself)

If they had a sexual, emotionally intense relationship, wouldn’t Paul have known that it was this John was referring too? He comes across as very smart, surely he could have put the dots together? His bewilderment seems completely sincere, not a pr trick. What’s your opinion?

I honestly go back and forth on this because I can see a relationship between those two being way more than just platonic. On and off hook ups in the 70s amongst the angst could also explain John’s sporadic comments about Paul throughout this decade. One day praising him, the other cursing him. Both parties not being brave enough (and a whole host of other factors) to not commit or acknowledge what was going on fully would have been very confusing to say the least.

But I still can’t get my head around the points I made earlier that counter this argument. Would love to hear your take on things!

EXTREMELY based ask anon, your mind is very sharp and I love it!

okayyyy there's a lot here so let's take it bit by bit

However in my opinion, Linda gives me the impression of someone with a strong sense of self, who would decide to walk instead of being disrespected in that way.

If we're anywhere close to the ballpark then Linda nearly called off the wedding when Paul told her about him and John. But then after that, she would chaperone Paul when he went to see John and hang out with him like when they went to LA. It's hard to say what Linda would or wouldn't stand for IMO because she saw the real Paul, all of him, and stuck that out for over twenty years.

I don't think that Linda would be okay with Paul cheating on her necessarily but I wouldn't write off her pretending not to see when he was sneaking out under her nose. It's not the same thing as having an open relationship but she and Paul had agreed to try for Mary sometime in 1968 before she knew about him and John and witnessed the messy break up. She doesn't strike me as the vindictive type so I wonder if knowing she was pregnant and wanting her kid to know who her father was played any role in her decision. And Linda purportedly didn't like the idea of getting married again according to a quote floating around here -- Paul had to convince her it was a good idea, not the other way around. There's reason to believe that Linda may have been happy just being a common law couple or whatever the UK's equivalent is and that Paul insisted on getting married.

I'm not saying definitively one way or another, Linda is much more opaque than Paul. But I'm hesitant to say that she wouldn't tolerate cheating or she wouldn't look the other way on it, because why else did she let Paul visit John so much otherwise? She knew what was going on.

Just something to think about I guess.

I also find it strange that decades and decades on, no one has said anything other than Paul being absolutely devoted to Linda. Not even anonymously, someone who doesn’t like Paul could seriously hurt his reputation spilling that information, not to mention the potential money, fame from it ect. This goes hand in hand with having a sexual relationship with John. I mean, surely they couldn’t have hidden it from everyone. Some people must of known, and not just an inner circle of loyal friends. Take tour managers or hotel staff for example.

So why do you think nothing has come out all these years later?

The biggest reason is that The Beatles worked very hard as a unit to cover up their infidelities. Paul was two paternity accusations lodged against him, one was the German girl and the other was Liverpool girl. Blood tests proved that both of these paternity claims were false (and Anita later admitted that she had a second boyfriend concurrent to Paul at the time, she just didn't think he was actually the dad until her son spilled the beans that Paul's paternity test proved false.) Despite these two paternity suits being lodged against Paul, he still paid the girls hush money through Brian. There's another story of a paternity claim being lodged against John that Brian paid to go away. The hookers they engaged with in the hotels were also paid for their time and to not launch any paternity suits against The Beatles. And so on.

The most encompassing answer is simply that Paul and the other Beatles paid off their babymamas AND that they have lots of legal representation on their side to make offers that can't be refused. I have long thought that the sudden muzzling of Heather Mills was the result of a super injunction, a feature of British law where a person with enough money and influence can forcibly shut someone up. A super injunction is, to put it mildly, a massive pain in the ass to obtain yet Paul is well positioned to have used one to make her shut her mouth and stop libeling him in the press. If Paul is ruthless enough to use something like that against his ex wife and mother to his child then he is absolutely willing to turn it on lays from the 1960s and 1970s. Most of the time I would bet he does not have to; we all have a price and for a sufficient amount of money, I wouldn't bother Paul with a paternity suit either.

Then there's just love and personal loyalty. The Beatles inspire incredible loyalty in their fans and their hook ups. Peggy Lipton went completely insane for Paul after meeting him only a handful of times including showing up at his hotel in a swimsuit hoping to be taken on Paul's Dirty Weekend with Linda. Now imagine that loyalty in a 19 year old girl who hooked up with Paul during 1966. Why would she say shit to anyone about having sex with Paul or getting pregnant by him? She would absolutely feel inspired to protect him. I think this would be just as true in 1976, the loyalty that the boys inspired in their fans is remarkable.

And think about it: if you had slept with one of the Beatles, would you out him to anyone? Or would you keep it a secret? Think carefully about it. By outing him, you are also outing yourself. Especially if Paul was married at the time. Do you want to admit you're complicit in Paul McCartney's adultery? That sounds like a very unpleasant prospect to me and besides, you want to keep a little piece of him to yourself.

Tour managers and hotel staff likely suspected something but it was truly a whirlwind for them too and I think a lot of them just second guess what they know. Homosexual activity was completely unthinkable and virtually unknown in the 60s and 70s. The only people who would truly know is the housekeeping staff. They would see the telltale signs of who slept where and what they were doing; those room manifests don't tell us shit because we can be sure that the boys swapped beds and rooms all the time depending on what they wanted. For John and Paul especially, I imagine there was a lot of wandering in the night and seeking each other out.

Take that story of Ringo disappearing during the 1964 tour to go on a joyride with a police man with Paul waking up and alerting Mal and Neil that he was gone. Why was Paul awake in the night? Why didn't he just go ask John and George where Ringo was first thing? Surely if your third band member goes missing your first instinct would be to ask the other two if they've seen him but instead Paul, for some reason, seems to have known immediately that Ringo was not with John and George in their hotel room and promptly tattled to the roadies. This is despite the room set up which was supposed to be Paul/Ringo and George/John. Hm!

Only housekeeping would know the truth of the situation and those men and women are dead or lost in the crowd. However even then we don't have reason to think they had proof: John and Paul being intimate would only leave behind the remains of...sex. And the truth is that The Beatles liked having sex with girls while they were in the same room together, including switching. What reason was there to think that it was just two guys boning instead of two guys and two girls?

What I'm driving at is that tour managers and hotel staff and housekeeping servicewomen had a lot of circumstantial evidence but unless they caught John and Paul in the act, then they had no reason to understand what they were seeing. Anyone who did catch them would have been paid off with the brown paper bag money Brian picked up from the bootleg merch vendors that sold fanmerch outside their concerts. And if that failed then yes legal action would have been launched through Capitol's legal arm because Capitol had plenty of superstars before The Beatles that had to be managed. They knew the drill, they weren't angels. Managing sex addicts and homosexual activity was business as usual for a suit even in 1964. They wouldn't want to scuttle that secret either because if Paul throws a fit and buys out his song catalogue then it's good night Felicia.

So in between those three things -- personal loyalty, bribes, and the threat of legal action especially since Paul has rich boy privileges -- no one is saying shit. Not any of the groupies, none of the women Paul was probably hanging out with while married, no one who ever caught him with John. It's just not worth it.

What comes to mind is the phone call Paul had with a biographer very soon after John’s death (I’m sorry I’ve forgotten his exact name) where he secretly recorded all he said and later published it. (Ouch!) Paul’s completely baffled at Yoko’s statement that no one had hurt John more than Paul had. (Said by John himself)

If they had a sexual, emotionally intense relationship, wouldn’t Paul have known that it was this John was referring too? He comes across as very smart, surely he could have put the dots together? His bewilderment seems completely sincere, not a pr trick. What’s your opinion?

Hunter Davies. The phone call with Hunter Davies is very interesting because he was someone Paul knew...but otoh he's still a reporter. Paul knows that. Hearing more about the Lennon McCartney feud soon after John's death was a hot story so could Paul reasonably assume that Hunter would write up the story.

I posit that Paul, in an act of true cynicism and spite towards Yoko, deliberately leaked some of his issues with John in order to spit in Yoko's eye. Especially with that pointed line about how he knows things about John that Yoko never knew...and that he won't publish them until after she is dead. You want to talk about ouch?!

I think that Paul is being genuine when he's confused about how he could have hurt John which makes me think @menlove is right and that India may have been a nothingburger or didn't feature Paul getting cold feet about John.

There are a couple of candidates for "John said no one hurt him like Paul did." We'll probably never know what they are but these are my personal options:

John asked for a relationship with Paul in India; Paul did something John interpreted as a rejection especially in light of Paul self destructing and John going on a multi-day bender when he got home.

Paul suddenly bringing Linda into the limo during the New York City trip to promote Apple. John seems genuinely baffled and confused about this with the "and next thing I know she's married to him" line. It was completely out of left field and John was caught by surprise.

Paul getting the drop on John with regards to announcing the Beatles break up. John expressed bitterness about this (because it was a ploy to force Paul to stay with him, Paul wasn't actually supposed to follow through with it) because it humiliated him publicly.

John was still hung up on the Family Way score and was destroyed by that and by Paul going "fuck it we'll do it live" and recording so much stuff solo for the White Album.

You may have spotted a problem with this already: there are multiple instances where Paul could have profoundly hurt John that would linger in John's memory. How can you possibly choose just one?

What if it was all of these and that eventually the hurt and abandonment mounted and John couldn't take it anymore?

Ultimately though I think Paul is/was confused and angry because the narrative was all about how Paul hurt John, and nothing about how John hurt Paul, another thing Paul brought up with Hunter during the interview. If John was pissy about Paul announcing the break up first, then why was no attention paid to John announcing "I want a divorce"? Why is it so important to sweep John being a dickhead under the rug? I think that's what had Paul so confused and pissed off, to the point that he couldn't really pinpoint one single thing that could have hurt John. 'Are you serious, I hurt him when he's the one who abandoned me multiple times through out our relationship and never apologized for any of it?' That would piss me off monumentally if I were Paul, I'd deny all knowledge of hurting John too since he refused to own up to hurting Paul in the first place.

I honestly go back and forth on this because I can see a relationship between those two being way more than just platonic. On and off hook ups in the 70s amongst the angst could also explain John’s sporadic comments about Paul throughout this decade. One day praising him, the other cursing him. Both parties not being brave enough (and a whole host of other factors) to not commit or acknowledge what was going on fully would have been very confusing to say the least.

That's pretty much it. Keeping in mind that Yoko kept John hooked on drugs to keep him from making up with Paul as well.

I think the confusion and frustration Paul expressed/expresses is a byproduct of the fog of war. He's too close to the subject matter, he can't figure it out because he can't see the big picture.

[hotchsreader]

You’re my Last Call

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hotch had broken up over a month ago. Once he broke up with you, he disappeared, absolutely no contact with you anymore. You didn’t know why, there were no signs he was unhappy until he just broke off everything. Up until a freak accident happens, you thought you had lost the love of your life. What if that was never the case, and he just thought you’d be better off without his sadness?

trigger warning: car accident

read on ao3 here

Now there's blood on the windshield

And there's credit cards on the floor

And I'm crawling out the window of my passenger side door

Your picture's on the dashboard and that's the only thing I saw

You were always first to catch me when I fall

Yeah, I'm sorry you were my last call

- Lyrics from the song 3/13 by Wyatt Flores

Hotch was trying to remind himself of the good days when things felt less heavy and he could have a clear head. These days? Everything felt so heavy that he didn’t know if it was possible not to be stressed out. He had broken up with you weeks ago. Maybe it has been a month already, he was unsure at this point. He knew that his presence was a downer to everyone around him, and you had been too much of a light in the world to let him dull you. He loved you so much, but he knew that letting you go would be the best option for you to succeed.

Everything felt like it was going so slowly. He had left the office about an hour ago and was headed toward the victim's house to do one last walk-through to see if there was anything that the local police had missed. He knew exactly where he was going as he and the team had been there before, so he did not even tell anyone he was going there or put the location in his GPS. He had been paying attention, he wasn't too tired, he had slept pretty well the night before, and nothing but you were on his mind. He looked down at his dashboard, to see the photo of you he kept there. Even though he left, he kept you with him. He always wanted to keep you with him, other than Jack, you were his biggest source of happiness. He had looked down for a split second, but apparently, that was enough time for a far to cross into Hotch’s lane and slammed him into the wall lining the highway.

-

After the car crashed, Hotch couldn’t remember anything until he felt himself on the concrete ground and saw random faces flashing back and forth over the top of him.

“Sir. Is there anyone we can call for you?” They asked hoping to get an answer from the man lying in front of them. They knew there was a strong chance there was a concussion.

Hotch could hardly muster up many words, all he said was your name. Your name and said check the phone.

-

You were at work. Everyone else had started going home, and the law office was closed for the day. There wasn’t any noise as you sat typing your last report on your laptop, it seemed peaceful almost. That was until, your phone started ringing incredibly loud, piercing through the silence.

“Maam. This is Officer Finch. I have a man here by the name of Aaron Hotchner, he was in a car accident. He gave us you to call.”

“Where is he? He is a Federal Agent.”

Before the officer even finished giving you the details of where Aaron was, you had already grabbed all of your things and ran out of the office. By the time you hung up with him, you were only ten minutes away.

Nothing would stop you from getting to him. Nothing that happened between the two of you would make you not rush to his side. He was, and would always be, your person.

When you got there, the first thing you noticed were the lights and the sirens. It brought back so many memories from when Hotch was hurt by Foyet. your heart was pounding in your chest and you just needed to find him to see that he was okay. an officer waved you over, and you saw him lying on the ground. There was a cut across his forehead, and his eyes were grimacing like he was in pain. It was killing you, even though you hadn’t even fully gotten up to him to see him in that kind of condition. He looked almost pitiful. you weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him because of how badly he had hurt you so you stood and talked to the paramedics who said that it was most likely that he had a concussion, but that he was going to be fine he was very lucky. The person had crossed his lane of traffic and when they did, it caused his car to swerve headfirst into the highway wall.

You heard a soft voice call your name. It was very quiet, almost like it was reserved. They didn’t want to be calling your name. They didn’t want you to know that they needed you at this moment. you didn’t know what to do because doing this was wrong to be an emergency contact on a person who had tried so hard to remove you from their life. One day everything was okay, holding hands laughing together, knowing each other’s favorite orders at the coffee shop, to not even a phone call explaining why everything ended with a snap of a finger.

“Yeah, Aaron I’m here,” you said softly in his ear, as you finally walked over to him, kneeling next to him and running your hands through his hair. That was always a small comfort for him when he really needed somebody he loved you running your fingers through his hair.

“ I am so sorry but you were the only person I wanted to be here, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from right now.” His voice was still very soft, almost like it hurt to speak and he wanted to tell him to stop talking to focus on getting to the hospital, but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. Selfish as it was, you wanted to know why. Why did he end everything? Why did he act like he didn’t exist after two years of a beautiful relationship, why did he call you now he had his whole team that would break down walls to get to him if they knew something was wrong? Why did he call you a person who genuinely couldn’t do anything but be there for him?

“We will talk when you’re able to form a coherent sentence, Aaron, I'm here now and I’m definitely not leaving until I know you’re okay.” You rubbed his face with your hand, and he pressed his face into your palm.

you sat there as they loaded him into the ambulance and asked if you were allowed to ride along. They said yes, considering it was not life-threatening. You could drop your car at a gas station and they would come by and pick you up to take you with him. you did not want to be where you couldn’t see him, but you trusted the paramedics to take care of him for the five minutes he would be out of your line of sight. once you got into your car, you texted the team. You still had all of their phone numbers in case of emergency to let them know what was going on and your phone started ringing off the hook.

“What is going on?” JJ was on the other side of the phone. her voice made you calm down a little bit. The two of you had become very close friends during your relationship with Aaron and even after he had broken up with you JJ always kept in contact.

“They said that a car came into his lane and knocked him into the highway wall. He was conscious and able to talk, and I went with him to the hospital. I have to drop my car off at a gas station so it wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the highway.” You responded, your voice becoming wobbly during your explanation.

She gulped pretty heavily, you knew this was hard for her to hear. as well. “Do you want me to come up? I’m more than willing to come and just be a helping hand for you. I could be the communication between the team to let them know how he’s doing so you don’t have to constantly be on your phone and keep everyone updated. I can do it for you.” She knew how hard this was for you, and that small gesture would be such a relief, and would take so much off your plate that you didn’t even know how to deal with it.

“JJ you mean the world to me. Could you also contact Jessica and let her know what’s going on? I really don’t wanna have to call her even though I love her. This is just so much and I need to check on him and be with him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” She said you could feel how genuine she was in the last few words. Meeting Aaron was one of the best things that ever happened to you, but meeting her was a close second. You reciprocated and hung up the phone, got to the gas station, got into the ambulance, and off to the hospital you went. You held on to Hotch’s hand the entire time.

-

The next three hours consisted of people running in and out of the hospital room, checking on Hotch, readjusting him, checking his vitals, and it felt like almost complete chaos. The minute JJ got there you could almost cry out of relief. You needed someone else there, to make this seem like less of a fever-induced dream. To bring you back to reality, almost like a shared experience instead of being alone in a hospital room with the love of your life being poked and prodded by hospital staff.

“Hi sweetie,” JJ says as she walks into the room, tears in her eyes as she looks over at Hotch. You know the two of them are close, he always has talked highly of her.

“Hi.” This was the first time you have heard your own voice in hours and it sounded almost foreign to you. It sounded defeated and hurt.

“Why are you here JJ?” This caused you to jump. Hotch had not spoken the entire three hours until JJ walked into the room. Did he just not want to speak to you? If this was the case, why did he ask everyone to call you? You turned your head over to him, a look of hurt running over your face. He noticed immediately and turned his head away from you to look at JJ.

“You know what, I’m going to go call the team, I’ll be back in a minute. You better prepare yourself for Garcia to run in here with balloons in snacks in a few hours Hotch.” She tried to make the atmosphere less tense before she left, but the hurt and anger in you could physically feel it.

You stood up, walked over to Hotch, and put your hand under his chin, and made him look at you. He stared at you for a minute, tears gathering in his eyes as he did and he tried to open his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him get that far.

“Absolutely not, you do not get to speak right now Aaron Hotchner. You do not get to be the first one to speak after what you have put me through in the last few hours. I get to speak first.”

He nodded at you, tears slipping from his eyes.

“You LEFT me with no explanation. You are the love of my life. I would lay down everything I am and will be to make sure you and Jack are safe and happy. I did nothing wrong to deserve to be deserted. I did nothing, Aaron. I love you so much, I will love you until the day I die. Why would you have them call me? Why would you do what you did?” At this point, you were sobbing, and the last few words that came out of your mouth were gargled.

Hotch raised his hand and wiped the tears from your cheek, you wanted to turn away but your brain and arm betrayed you and you raised your hand up to hold his while it was on your face.

“Honey, it had nothing to do with you. You are the most beautiful, loving, caring person in this world.”

“But then why? What was wrong? What happened to us?”

“It was me. I was bringing you down. I was making everything worse. I didn't want to ruin your life with my hurt.” The last few words were barely a whisper.

You looked up, for the first time since this conversation started, and looked at the man in front of you. He was crying, tears falling down the side of his face onto the pillow. He was gripping your hard really hard, the ring on your fingers digging into your skin. He looked pitiful. He was heartbroken, not just because of what currently happened but because of everything going on in his head. You had wished he would’ve told you this a lot sooner. So much hurt could have been prevented if he had just been honest with you. But you knew this man, you knew he would hide things so deeply inside himself if it meant no one else had to get hurt. You knew he would hide things if it meant you would be protected from the harsh realities.

“Aaron. You are and will always be my world. If something is bothering you, I would like to talk about it. I would like to be able to be there for you if you would let me be. Please, just talk to me. Let me be there for you.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your palm. His face was flush from the accident and from the tears. He felt, defeated.

“I don’t want anyone to have to deal with me. Especially not someone who has so much to offer this world. I am just a mess of a man. You were the last person I wanted to call because I do not want you to have to clean up after me.”

“If loving you means I have to be there for everything, every sad day, every hard day, every difficult day, I will be.” You said, running your hands through his hair, his favorite.

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Too late, I am already too committed.”

“You know, I was looking at my photo of you on my dashboard before it happened.” He turned his head closer to you.

“You have a photo of me in your work car?” You truly didn’t know this.

“Have the moment we started dating. It's a photo of you smiling at work when I came to visit for the first time. You were so excited to show me around to everyone. Your boyfriend is a Unit Chief in the FBI. You were so smiley the entire time, I wanted to remember that happiness on hard days. So in my work car, it sits, it's comforting.”

“Well, we can take more photos.” You sat on the edge of the bed, he sat up and you leaned into him. You were not going anywhere.

“I love you, you know that. I’m sorry for leaving, I just thought I was hurting you more than I was helping. I thought if you knew how bad I was feeling you would feel responsible or that I would hurt you.”

“I love you more than you know.”

-

After the talk, and JJ called the team to let them know the extent of everything going on, you decided to walk with her to get some coffee. Penelope had shown up five minutes after JJ ended the call with tons of goodies for Hotch, and you let her and Derek sit in there with him while you took a break. Hopefully, he would be okay, Derek could handle Penelope and Hotch needed a friend.

The two of you walked along side each other in silence until you got to the elevator. Once you got to the elevator JJ finally spoke up.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She looked at you sideways as she finished the question.

“Actually, yeah. What he said made me a bit worried and I need some more insight into what’s been going on.”

“I’m all ears.”

“He broke up with me because he’s having a hard time mentally. Has he been weird or more restricted at work at all?” You asked the question as you got into the elevator.

“A bit. I thought maybe it was due to the breakup but honestly it’s been going on a few months. I try not to pry because while he is my boss and my friend, i don’t want him to think i don’t trust him.”

“I understand that completely. I knew something was up, but I didn’t think he’d leave me just because he didn’t want to talk about it. I think we’re on the same page now, but i’m not letting this go. I love him too much.”

“He loves you too, trust me. Your photo is in his car, on his phone, in his office. You and Jack are his world. I honestly think he’s just scared.” As you got out of the elevator together she turned and hugged you. knowing you haven’t had one since this all happened. You loved your best friend, and she always knew what you needed.

-

Hotch was in the hospital for a day. They wanted to keep him overnight just for observation, but it turned out everything was okay. He had a concussion and a few cuts on his head but he was going to be fine. you were by his bedside the entire time you slept there you only left to go to the bathroom or if somebody else came and made you go get a cup of coffee. Usually it was JJ or Derek that convinced you to get up, despite Hotch telling you countless times it was okay to go home. You truly just were so happy to have him back you didn’t want to leave him again.

You both had walked to your car so you could drive him home. Jessica was keeping Jack for one more night that way Hotch could settle down at home and make sure that he was okay and you were going to stay with him tonight, because there was no way you were going to let him be alone.

“You know we have to talk about everything, right?” you said the minute you both got into the car.

“Yeah honey, I know.” He reached over and grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard.

“Why did you do this? I know you’re hurting. I would do anything to make you happy and feel loved and appreciated, that’s my goal when i’m with you. I’d do anything for you.”

“That’s the point, I just don’t want you to have to take care of me. I want to be there for you.” He started looking out of the window, like that was going to make his hurt get up and fly away.

“ Now you know a relationship is 50/50, and sometimes on bad days it’s 20/80. We give what we can, my love, and if you’re having a bad day I am more than willing to pick up the slack.” It was your turn to squeeze his hand, to bring him back to reality and remember that you were here, and that you were not going anywhere.

“I am embarrassed.” You looked over at him to see him, start to cry, genuine tears falling from his eyes, the look of defeat and hurt and embarrassment falling over his face. it was the saddest you had ever seen someone look and it absolutely shattered your heart to see him like that.

“Absolutely not,” You pulled over and stopped the car, “you have NO reason to be embarrassed about having a hard time Aaron Hotchner. You have been through more in the past few years than I could ever imagine. I don’t think I would be up walking around if I had gone through what you had been through. I would not be as good of a man as good of a dad as good of a person if I had been through what you had to go through. you give it your all every single day, whether it be as a father or as the leader of a team that saves peoples lives and every single day. you deserve somebody that not only wants to be with you at your best but somebody that will be there for you at your worst and I will be there for you. Always.” You took his face in your hands and turned him to look at you. He was still crying so you wiped his tears with your thumbs, and looked him in the eyes. You leaned in and gave him a big kiss. A kiss to cement everything you just said. So he knew, you were completely serious.

“Okay. I am sorry for what I've done, but for you, I am willing to try. I am willing to accept my downfalls, and lean on you when I need you. And you will never be my last call again, you will always be my first.”

“I better be.”

That got a smile out of him, and a small chuckle. You kissed him again and started the car back up, put it in drive, and took you both home.

[stuck-writing-sickos]

Slick (yandere coworker)

ONE

[Masterlist]

T/w: suggestive, violence, gore

So you got jokes, don't you now?

You notice my keen interest, and it makes you nervous. I'm sorry to see your darting eyes searching for an escape whenever I approach you, but that is all I will be sorry for. You see, I don't care if you find me off-putting: I like to see whichever way you react.

I have drifted through a couple of countries. I assume so have you. Cultures may vary, but under laws, social etiquettes, cuisine and fashion, we all aren't so different. We eat and sleep. We feel good when we get what we want, and we feel bad if we don't. And since not everyone is aware of how similar we are, most of us like people who agree with us a little (or sometimes, unfortunately, a lot) more than the rest. You would assume I am a cynic, but I in fact celebrate this persistent likeness among us all. I think it is humanity. Wouldn't you agree?

And what I rejoice in even more so is the effort that we put into controlling these primal instincts. Self control - a rare and remarkable virtue. You work hard on it: punctual, courteous, and moderate on all front. I like to see it, the way you resist your emotions at any given point to upkeep this image. What minotaur are you keeping away in this intricate prison you have built? Let me in.

You see, I don't want to sleep with you. Sure... it would be nice, but that isn't my end-goal at all. If I were to, it would have been out of morbid curiosity. I want more than sex. I need to know you like an autopsy. I want to cut you open, peeling through your skin, cutting through your muscles, and opening you up to take a look at the way your organs are arranged. I will be precise, I promise, in both slicing you open and sealing you back up. All I want to do is look.

With how wary you are around me, I didn't expect for you to say yes to dinner. Maybe you were sick of eating alone, or maybe you just felt rude not to. Either way, I could tell that whichever reasons compelled you, it wasn't about me at all. No matter.

Again, this isn't about you.

You courteously ordered the mid-range price item. I asked if you were sure. You said you liked that dish. Do you, now? I didn't correct you. You refused wine, even when you were not driving home. You didn't think I would notice you coming in from an Uber, did you? I pretended not to see you coming in - you're not the sole clever one between us. I didn't push it anyhow. I liked what I was seeing: you were cautious and observant, safe under you soft-spoken exterior.

You asked me questions. You wanted to know where I grew up, if I had any siblings, how college was for me,... so on and so forth. You didn't answer any of mine - not really. I got a little antsy, I admit. Not every day do I see someone not keen on talking about themselves.

So you got my history and I got that you grew up "pretty far from here", that your hometown was "quaint but charming", that you went to college for "a degree you "aren't even practicing right now". Funny. You got jokes, don't you? You gave me a little taste of my own medicine. I felt as if we were trying to meet eyes through our own microscopes.

I didn't push you to open up. I thought entertaining your questions would loosen your guard eventually, but you were committed to your fortress. Fine... all good. I could still watch the way you move, precise and gentle as you maneuver around the table with candles, empty glasses and flower vase. You were too smooth, as if holding back a force. It was as if I was looking at a pressure cooker. This level of management implied, at least - from my humble opinion - a boiling chaos from underneath. After all, equilibrium can only be attained by equal forces.

You kept yourself so effortlessly mysterious, it made me wonder why you would even go on this date with me. I bumbled my way through the food and dessert, antsy and eager to see a crack on your mask to no use. I suppose you got into my head... not the other way around. Still, you kept me going - your elusiveness thrilled me.

As I said, I like anomalies.

You got me so good, that by the end of the night past all the talking and electricity, my confidence took such a hit that I offered to drive you home with my tail between my legs. I would love to say I was taking it slow, that I was enjoying the process of solving the puzzle that you were, but truth is I was ashamed of myself. You didn't unravel the way I hoped you would, and I protected myself with the conviction that you were a robot, and that I wasn't that interested in your process after all.

So you could imagine the surprise when you tilted your head with the most deviously clueless look and said "really? I didn't think I was going home."

[science-lings]

Being annoying about each option under the cut

1- Ryunosuke has no other pictures of his bestie's face except for the one of his 'corpse' and that is Fucked Up, which is why I love it. this hc is based on the fact that during my playthrough I looked at the picture so many times bc I missed him immediately. Anyway 1-2 was the worst day of his life and the moment where he was given the photo for the first time really stuck with me.

2- They get to switch off being each other's judicial assistants and they both get to be different flavors of transmasc, I think it would be fun for them. Would they have to attend classes at Yumei to even be considered lawyers? who knows the point is they do it together and are like those cats that bond together and get sad when they get separated.

3- If they are in the same room together that sword is being switched back and forth several times, 'I think it matches your outfit today' or 'I'm on my period I shouldn't be in possession of a deadly weapon' or 'you said in the custody agreement that I get it on weekends' etc etc etc... Though it tends to go with Ryunosuke when they are separated for long periods of time. That sword is symbolic of so much gay shit in these games what's a little more.

4- my guy talks about 'the look' in Ryunosukes eyes so much during the last case, what are you looking into his eyes for? Heterosexual reasons? sure... (also 'fancy meeting you here' that is a pick-up line, you're in a prison, not a bar) Anyway his feelings towards Ryunosuke are complicated and he's so mad that at least one of the feelings in the emotional cocktail is something like attraction)

5- There's that disaster lesbian thing going on but also the situation was pretty stressful but one day she will wake up and it will hit her that her friend was still very interested in her even after she knew it was her in the disguise.

6- Sholmes keeps trying to refer to himself as 'the root of all evil' and how he's 'drawn to the darkness', he's trying so hard to be edgy but he's a six-foot-tall lanky blond man who is dramatic in the silly way and drapes himself over Ryunosuke at every opportunity. Either he's trying to build some kind of reputation or he wants to appeal to the local goth milf populace (Sithe and Tusspells) or even the reaper himself (there's some messy ex energy going on over there...)

7- I need Phoenix to inherit Karuma, he knows a bit about it but he doesn't make a big deal about it. He does have a few prosecutor friends who know the blade and are so annoyed that he's not super proud to own it. Also it's funny to me if the only family that Phoenix knows are a couple of victorian lawyers that haunt him. I think they should watch over him and be a little horrified. Ryunosuke was excited when he was intending to be a performing arts student as a fellow drama kid but it doesn't surprise him that he chose to become a lawyer. It's in his blood.

8- You cannot tell me Ryunosuke didn't want to fling himself off of that boat every night he was stuck in the room he thought Kazuma was killed in. He just didn't want to ruin Susatos trip to England by leaving her alone and he goes into a depression when she leaves for Japan, going so far as to avoid looking at the photo the 221b fam took before she left because it made him sad, which gets put up every time by Sholmes who Gets It. Meaning that he went up to the Naruhodo consulting agency regularly to check up on him. I like to think Sholmes was genuinely worried during the months he spent banned from the courtroom and without his weirdgirl who he bonded with through his best friends 'death'.

9- Wagahai is a good kitty, she can tell who the most depressed person in the building is and follows them around, sometimes Ryunosuke has a nightmare and wakes up with a cat right up by his face.

10- Ryunosuke starts the Naruhodo family tradition of not talking about their personal lives to people they care about and making their own little patchwork family for themselves. Practically all we know about his past is that he's afraid of doctors and studied English from a young age. And then like three months after going to a new country and meeting new people he's just like 'neat this is my family now :)' there is something going on there I swear. I have many conflicting ideas about what it could be specifically though.

[m0rkl]

The People We Become || Reverse Portal AU || Stan Vs. The Multiverse

Back to talking about My Mans and this AU

Stan's Adventures Through The Multiverse

After tumbling through the exploding portal Stan ends up in this sort of between space, lost between dimensions where there are rifts steadily opening and closing around him. He has no idea really what they are or where they go, so he's lost and freaking out.

He's desperately calling out for Ford to come save him. For a while, he's determined to stay put in case the portal opens back up again, but his cynical side tells him Ford has already abandon him and he's stuck here forever. Stan fight back and forth with himself, both unwilling to believe that Ford would just let him stay here forever and uncertain that Ford doesn't think this is exactly what Stan deserves.

Bill senses the Dimension 46'\ Portal open and goes to the location only to find Stanley and no portal to be found. Seeing Stanley with the journal, Bill tries to manipulate Stan into giving him the journal, saying that he and Ford wrote it together long ago.

Bill says if Stan give him the journal, he'll send Stan home easy peasy. Of course, Stan knows a con when he sees one and tell him to go fuck himself. Bill is less than please, but keeps trying to manipulate Stan. It doesn't work.

Stan: You know, my brother might be the one with the brains, but I've got that other thing.

Bill: Oh? And what might that be?

Stan: PUNCHING!

[Stanley punches Bill in the eye and launches himself into a random rift.]

Luckily, Stan lands himself in a sort of interdimensional central hub where travelers can stop and rest for a time. Unluckily, this particular hub is dominated by a shitty totalitarian government and he gets stopped almost immediately by law enforcement. He doesn't have real ID on him, just one of his shitty fakes, which might have worked on random crappy traffic cops, but not dimension hopping violent super cops.

Stanley gets thrown in jail with some other petty criminals, which is truly his home element these days. He makes some quick friends and they break out, stealing some poor sap's a luxury ship mini cruiser along the way.

Now that he's made some criminal friends, he gets some totally absolutely completely legal ID and credentials and learns to pilot ships.

For a while, Stan travels around, taking sketchy jobs, running with various crime group and actually... having a somewhat good time? Turn out space crime is kind of more fun that normal crime, even if he feels like shit for doing some of it. It's just as dark and dangerous as the life he was living before.

Over the years he has a couple run ins with Bill and usually scrapes out of it more or less in one piece. None of it is pretty though. It is Bill, after all.

He runs with various crews, making money, losing money, racking up debt, going to prison, escaping prison, becoming a fugitive, becoming a hitman, a thief and all kinds of bad shit. But after twenty or so years, he gets tired of it.

He decides to settle on a quiet planet and lay low for a little bit with the small amount of money and connections he's made over the years. The planet he's on is like a small town. He's nervous around such 'normal' people, but does well with kids and ends up being the mysterious and gruff, but kind old man who feeds the kids who don't get enough to eat at home or don't have a safe place to stay. It's nice. But doesn't last very long.

He catches wind of a trans-dimensional locator that wouldn't necessarily get him home, but it would be a start. He'd have to find a way to hook it up to his Rift Hopper(the device he uses for dimensional travel) AND keep it untraceable to Bill. It won't be easy but it's closer to a way home than he's had since he got here.

He joins up with a rag-tag treasure hunting crew that might be a little morally gray, but they're better than a lot of the crime lords Stan has worked with. He travels with them for a while, being their main muscle and negotiator for jobs.

When there's trouble, he takes it upon himself to get them out of it and tends to be very self sacrificing. He is still Stanley Pines after all.

This crew LOVES their goofy violent self-loathing grandpa and are 100% on board with helping him find the translocator. Even if it means he'll leave them ):

But as Mabel and Dipper make progress on the portal back in their dimension, blips of Dimension 46'\ are sent into the multiverse. Which means Stanley can track a rift! ...But so can Bill.

Bill comes after Stan and his new crew, taking them hostage. Stan agrees to go with Bill if he lets the crew go. Bill tries to make a deal, but Stan tricks him, gives the crew the translocator and the crew narrowly escapes. Stan does not.

Bill holds Stan captive and tortures him, both to get the translocator and because he just fucking hates Stan after all this. Also, torture is FUN! (for Bill)

Stan can't escape and starts to think maybe this is just how he's going to spend the rest of eternity. He starts losing hope, thinking it's what he deserves for the life he's lead.

But then! His crew comes to the rescue! No way they were going to leave their weird violent human grandpa to Bill's wrath! They risk their lives to save Stan and escape Bill

... but bad news. The translocator device broke when they were making their initial escape. Stan is pretty okay with it, but then... the portal opens. It's definitely to his dimension, but it's locked onto his energy signal some how???

He's confused, because why would Stanford be looking for him after three decades of nothing? Could someone else be searching for him? What the hell is going on?

But the portal is right there and finally Stan gets to go home! But he knows Bill is still after him so he has to close this dumb reckless portal asap

....tbh now I just wanna write a bunch of shorts about Stanley's adventures through the multiverse

[lace-coffin]

I’d love to see you write anything for Tommy Hewitt x a gender neutral/nonbinary reader 🥺 absolutely obsessed with the man and desperately need more content that isn’t written by me lol

I’d be totally happy to! This is how I feel abt Asa Emory stuff I’m like I need more that isn’t written by me lol < 3 totally pulled this idea out of my ass by the way, hope u enjoy!

Thomas Hewitt x nonbinary!Reader with a new pet

Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and trudging up the stairs, your partner Tommy appears from the basement, finally finished with his messy day job and ready to shower, change, groan and fall face first into the bed in that order.

He doesn’t make it much further than a few steps into the living room before you practically tackle him, throwing your arms around his chest, unable to actually reach his neck due to his height. Tommy can tell that something has you more excited than normal as you rock back and forth on your feet.

“How’s it going big guy?! Get all your stuff finished down there?” You beam at him, wide toothy smile on display

Your partner nods a quick yes before plonking his head on top of yours like a large clingy dog. You stand like this for a while, breathing each-other in and having some well deserved skin to skin after a busy day on the farm. Pulling away much to Tommys displeasure you place a quick kiss on his knuckles to placate him for the time being.

“How about you go get cleaned up and I might just have a surprise for you..”

Tommy visibly perks at this, suddenly a man on a mission, he’s up the stairs before you can even blink.

Ah.

If only he knew it wasn’t one of ‘those surprises’

“Y/n come get this damn thing! Before I ring its fucking neck!” Hoyt screams from down the hallway. That would be your cue to leave.

Speed walking down the hallway you enter the dining room and a stifle a laugh behind your hand. On Hoyt’s lap lays Tommy’s surprise. Well more a treat for yourself that’s going to become part of his daily life too, but he doesn’t have to know that. Sitting is maybe an understatement, more flapping its wings and consequently slapping your uncle in law (?) in the face repeatedly.

With an awkward cough you come to his rescue, briskly walking over and lifting the feathered assailant into your arms, petting over its chest to try calm it.

“Shit I’m so sorry! I promise this is the last time you ever have to hold em if you don’t wanna!”

“It better fucking be” he deadpans, spitting out a chicken feather.

Grinning you move the pair of you (you and the chicken) to the living room, slumping down into the chair and positioning said chicken comfortably in your lap, waiting for Tommy to return.

Heavy thumping signals his arrival, excited footsteps move quickly in your direction and your handsome partner comes into view. Before he can even get a grunt out you’re thrusting the chicken into his face.

“Surprise!!!!!” You scream, pushing the chicken into his face, not really leaving any room for him to see in your excitement. Fumbling for a moment he takes the avian in hand and holds it at arm length, looking over it carefully before flickering his gaze between the two of you quizzically.

“Her name is Millie!! Isn’t she the cutest!” You almost scream.

He pauses for a moment, slowly nodding again and patting his large hand over Millie’s head. You’d always been a strange thing, catching Tommy’s eye since the start. floating outside of the gender boundaries without a care in the world, at this point with all the stunts you’ve pulled since beginning your relationship the chicken isn’t as big of a surprise as it should be.

“She’s lovely..is she staying here?” Tommy signs, a little confused but overall pretty taken by the chicken.

“Yeah! Is that ok? She was so attached to me every time I went to feed them and the other chickens kept picking on her” you pause, frowning.

“So I thought maybe we could keep her as an indoor pet?” You say, hope plastered on your face. How could he say no to that? He’d do anything to make you smile, even if that meant rooming with a farm animal apparently.

“I’m happy to take care of her, just keep her out of the kitchen, mama won’t like the mess” he signs, nuzzling his nose into the chickens soft feathers.

Months later down the line and it’s like Millie has always been a part of the family, she even has a fancy little cushion in the corner of the living room to lounge on when the family is watching tv.

True to your word she is kept out of the kitchen, Luda wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of keeping a farm animal inside but with all the other uh..unsanitary things that go on in this house it wasn’t like she had a leg to stand on, besides, Millie makes a great lap warmer when Luda crochets.

A handful of times you’ve even caught her nestled down on Hoyt’s chest, rumbling happily as he drunkenly snores open- mouthed on the sofa on a warm evening.

Some mornings you’re rudely awakened by impatient pecking at the wooden door, small holes in the grain as evidence of that. Millie is very particular about her food and refuses to wait, her and Tommy have that in common.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

[uncpanda]

Found Out

AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)

Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire. 

You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away. 

On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society. 

Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes. 

Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them. 

“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.” 

His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.” 

His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.” 

“So?” 

“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.” 

You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.” 

He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.” 

Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?” 

You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.” 

Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?” 

“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”  

You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?” 

You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.” 

As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?” 

You go  wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?” 

You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point. 

“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?” 

He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”

“About?” 

“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?” 

You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.” 

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?” 

“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.” 

He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished. 

“And that’s the majority of it.” 

You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day. 

You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop. 

“You work really weird hours.” 

“You never wore heels to work.” 

“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?” 

“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?” 

Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room. 

When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.” 

You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options. 

The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt. 

Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around. 

You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at  you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him. 

Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?” 

You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?” 

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.  

Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?” 

You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.” 

He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.” 

You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?” 

“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.” 

“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.” 

He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?” 

You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.” 

His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?” 

“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.” 

His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world. 

He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?” 

“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving. 

“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.” 

Bruce grins, “This job has perks.” 

You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.” 

When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.” 

Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?” 

She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.” 

You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.” 

Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.” 

That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?” 

Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?” 

“Perfect score.” 

“We have a full house, but it’s nice.” 

You nod, “Let me walk you out.” 

You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.” 

You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything. 

[maggiedelusional]

Let Me Go || Part 10

Pairing: Hangman x f!reader, Rooster x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST (but you knew that), minor character death, Some Fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Reader is married to and shares a child with Hangman. Life and circumstances drives reader into Rooster’s arms, but Hangman isn’t giving up that easily.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Author's Note: The long awaited Part 10. So this is the final part of the story, but there is still an epilogue coming (actually already started writing it as we speak or rather type). Sorry for the long wait once again, school and law school apps really got the best of me. But I did end up getting into law school with a great scholarship so yay! This chapter was so hard to write, I really kept going back and forth on how I was gonna end it and I know I'm not gonna make everyone happy with how I ended it but I think I went the best possible and realistic way that's healthy for all the characters involved. And I am really happy with what I came up with. I also had such a bad case of writer's block but thanks to some brainstorming with one of my best friends (who I forced to listen to the plot of the story). He helped me come up with an ending I was happy with. So thank you again for your patience and I also I wanna apologize to everyone who asked to be in the tag list that I didn't add, its impossible to keep track of who asked. But without further ado, here is Part 10 of Let Me Go!

You needed a moment to gather your thoughts before responding to Jake's plea. You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Jake, of course I still love you," you said, your voice quivering slightly. "But that's not the point. Love alone is not enough to fix what's broken between us."

"I know," Jake replied, his eyes downcast.

"You also have to understand that what I had with Bradley was not the same as what we have," you continued. 

"Yes I fell in love with him. How was I not supposed to? He loved me when it felt like you could not, he loved me selflessly and loved our daughter like his own. I can’t just ignore that.” 

"You fell in love with Rooster…." Jake repeated, voice low and full of despair.

“I thought it was you and me forever Sweets. I can’t believe you’d go back on our vows and leave me for Rooster!”

“And its not just you and me (y/n), we have a daughter! Imagine how confusing all of this is for her!” Jake was fuming once again, clearly jumping from the bargaining stage of grief back to anger. 

“You didn’t think about our daughter when you fucked that corpsman!” 

“That’s different (y/n)! She was a stranger, you fell in love with MY friend. Someone I thought was JUST your friend.”

“This is different," you said, feeling a mix of anger and frustration rise in your chest. "Rooster is not just a friend, he's someone I have a deep connection with. And I know it's hard for you to understand, but I can't just turn off my feelings for him."

Jake looked up at you, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. "So what are you saying, that you want to be with him instead of me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," you replied firmly.

Jake's eyes widened as he processed your words. "So what is it? You're just going to leave me here, alone and broken?"

The anger began to rise in you as you spoke. "No, Jake, I'm not leaving you alone and broken. You did that to yourself when you cheated on me. You broke our trust and shattered the foundation of our relationship. And now you have to deal with the consequences."

Jake's face fell as your words hit him like a ton of bricks. "I know what I did was wrong," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm willing to do anything to make it up to you. I love you, (y/n), and I don't want to lose you."

Your anger began to boil over as you listened to Jake's pleas. "Love is not enough, Jake," you spat out. "It takes more than love to build a strong and healthy relationship. It takes trust, honesty, and respect. And you betrayed all of that when you cheated on me."

Jake hung his head in shame as you continued to speak. "I need time to heal and figure out if I can ever trust you again. And right now, that means being on my own. I can't just forgive you and forget what you did. It's not that simple."

“And I know you said that you’re willing to forgive my relationship with Bradley, but we both know that the hurt lives in you, you cannot just instantly forget what Bradley and I shared.”

Jake looked up at you, his eyes pleading. "Please, (y/n), don't do this. I know I messed up, I know we both did, but I'm willing to do anything to make it right. Please do this with me"

"We had your chance, Jake," you replied, your voice stern. "And we blew it. I shut you out rather than figure it out with you. I fell in love with someone else.We both need time to think and figure out what's best for ourselves and our daughter. And right now, for me,  that means being away from you."

Jake's eyes filled with tears as he realized the gravity of the situation. "Please don't do this," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "I need you, (y/n)."

But you stood firm in your decision. "I'm sorry, Jake. But we can't keep putting ourselves and our daughter through this pain. We need time apart to figure things out."

Jake looked at you, sadness etched on his face. "But what if we can't make things work? What if we can't get back together?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "Then we have to accept that and do what's best for our daughter. We both love her, and we'll always be there for her."

“I love you (y/n), I always will, no matter what.”

“I know Jake.”

_________________________________________________________________________

"We need to talk"

“Can I come over?”

His heart rate picked up as he replied, "Of course”

“I'll be there in 10 minutes."

Bradley quickly got up from bed, threw on a hoodie and pants, and sat on his couch as he waited for your arrival. The minutes felt like years as he tried to control the thoughts racing through his head. Was something wrong? Was everything okay with Jake and Astrid? He had to find out.

When he heard a knock on the door, he noticed that he forgot to turn the lights on, probably a result of his distracted thoughts. He opened the front door and waved for you to enter.

"Hey," you said, walking into the living room. "Thanks for letting me come over again, for the second time tonight. I know its late"

"Of course, what's going on?" Bradley asked, concern etched on his face.

You took a deep breath before speaking. "Jake and I are separating."

Bradley's heart dropped as he heard the news. He knew how much you loved Jake and how much you wanted to make things work with him, despite everything that had happened. But he also couldn’t forget your year together.

He knew he shouldn't feel happy that your marriage was falling apart, but a small part of him couldn't help feeling hopeful for what it might mean for him and you. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that this was not the time or place for them.

 "I'm so sorry, (y/n). Are you okay?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, I'm not okay. But I need to be strong for Astrid.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you, (y/n). Whatever you need."

You shrugged off his embrace, which you have never done before. This action took Bradley by surprise, and he couldn’t lie hurt a little bit. But he knew that there was a large weight you holding on your shoulders, one that you were mustering up the courage to tell him.

“I need to leave, I’m moving back to San Diego. I’m going to take Astrid with me.” 

“You’re leaving?” Bradley couldn’t believe it

“But..how about us?” 

Bradley knew it was selfish asking about his standing with you after you told him that you and your husband were separated. But the thought of losing you and Astrid left his body feeling like its been hit by a truck. 

“Roo.. I love you.”

Surprise painted Bradley’s face upon hearing your words, you finally told him those 3 little words that he’s been desperately waiting for. 

“But I can’t be with you. Jake cheated on me with another woman. But I am not innocent in this situation. I fell in love with you knowing that there was another man that I promised my life to. He hurt me, but I’ve hurt him just as much. And its not okay.”

“I am so in love with you but I need to get away from here. I don't know what I want right now, and I need to figure things out on my own.” 

As the words left your mouth, Bradley felt like the ground beneath him had given way. He had hoped that this would be the moment when you would finally see him as more than just a friend, and he got his wish.  But now, it felt like the walls were closing in on him.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he responded, "I understand, (y/n). Take all the time you need." His eyes were burning, and he struggled to keep his composure. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you now, after all this time.

You looked at him with a sad smile, and his heart broke a little more. "Thank you, Bradley. You're a good friend."

Friend. The word echoed in his mind like a taunt. He had been fooling himself all along, thinking that he had a chance with you. He couldn't help but wonder if he had missed his shot.

Before you could leave, you turned to him and said, 

"I hope that there will be a time for us but not right now."

“I promise,maybe one day when my head is less fucked up, and I can give my entire self to you and I can give you all the love you deserve. When I’m ready, I will come back for you. If you’ll have me..”

Those words left him feeling even more uncertain. He didn't know when you would be ready, or what you would say when you finally did reach out. All he knew was that his heart was breaking, and he didn't know how to fix it.

As he watched you walk out of his apartment, he couldn't help but feel like everything was slipping through his fingers. He didn't know if he would ever get another chance with you, and that thought left him feeling empty and alone.

Bradley closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. He knew that he needed to give you the space you were asking for, but it felt like the hardest thing he had ever done. All he could do now was wait, and hope that one day you would come back to him.

____________________________________________________________________________

After you returned home, you saw that Jake had some of his belongings packed in a bag. You made eye contact with him as he walked down the stairs, hating yourself for hurting not just him but Bradley as well. But you knew this is what you all needed. 

“Thank you for staying with her, while I went to talk to Bradley.”

Jake felt his throat get dry at the sound of his rival’s name, biting down the bitter remark that would leave his mouth, knowing that it would do nothing to help the situation. Choosing to plop himself down on the couch.

“I went to tell Pixie goodbye but she’s still asleep. Can you tell her for me?”

You gave him a small nod in response.

“I’m going to stay at a place on base, give you your space.” 

“Thanks Jake, I promise we’ll only be here for a few more days. Until I make arrangements for me and Astrid to get back to San Diego…. Penny said we could stay with her until we find our own place.” 

“Are you sure leaving is the best thing to do right now?”

“I think its the only thing that makes sense for me to do right now.” You replied, sternly. 

Silence hung in the air as Jake stared at you, processing your words. You could see the hurt and confusion etched on his face, and you wished that things could be different. You wished that you could turn back time and make different choices, but you knew that was impossible.

After a few moments, Jake nodded slowly. "I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't like it, but I understand."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "Thank you," you said, your own voice barely above a whisper. "I just need some time to think things through."

Jake stood up from the couch, his eyes still fixed on you. "I'll give you all the time you need," he said. "But just know that I love you, and I'll always be here for you and our daughter."

You managed a small smile, grateful for Jake's words. "I know," you said. "And I love you too. But right now, I need to be on my own."

With that, Jake nodded and headed towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you one last time. "Take care of yourself," he said softly.

You didn’t understand why but that exact moment you remembered the day of your wedding. 

The wedding took place on a the beach next to the Hard Deck, where you first met, with soft white sand and the sound of the waves crashing in the background. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the entire scene.

You wore a simple backless satin white gown with a slit and court train that flowed behind you as you walked down the aisle. Jake had never seen anymore radiant or breathtakingly beautiful.

Penny held your arm tight, as you both made your way down the white aisle in the sand. She was the closest thing you had to family since your mom died and it meant so much to you that she not only planned the whole event but also wanted to be the one to walk you down the aisle.

As you reached the altar, you looked up and locked eyes with Jake, a dashing naval aviator in his dress uniform. He wore his medals and insignia with pride, and the way he looked at you made yout heart skip a beat.

You and Jake agreed to not write vows, you knew how you felt about each other and you didn’t feel the need to have to express it with words. Which is why it surprised you when he pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket and started reading. 

“My sweets,

I stand before you today, in my dress whites, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. As a naval aviator, I have flown through the skies and seen countless wonders, but nothing compares to the beauty of you. You are my everything, my anchor, my inspiration, my love.

From the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. Your spunky attitude, your unwavering ambition, and your stunning beauty captivated me from the start. I have never met anyone like you before, and I never want to let you go.

As we stand here today, I want to promise to always support you in your dreams, just as you have supported me in mine. I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin, in good times and in bad. I promise to cherish every moment we spend together, and to never take our love for granted.

I promise to be your rock, your confidant, and your partner for life. I vow to always make you feel loved, respected, and cherished. I will be there for you in every moment, whether it's sharing the highs of your accomplishments or the lows of your struggles.

Together, we will create a life full of adventure, joy, and love. I am so grateful to have you as my partner, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us. I love you more than words can express, and I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.

Yours forever,

Zuko

You felt tears swell in your eyes at his admission, you had never felt this much love from anyone, and here is this man promising you love and devotion forever. None of it felt real. 

“Jake… I-i I didn’t have anything prepared…” You whispered cheeks red in embarrassment. 

“You don’t need to Sweets, I wanted you and everyone here to know I felt about you.”

“You show me how you love me every single day and that’s all I could ever want.”

You nodded, tears pooling in your eyes. 

You exchanged rings, Jake took your hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin. Before he gently took your face in his hands placing a soft delicate kiss on your lips.

You smiled and blushed, feeling overwhelmed with love for your husband.

After the ceremony, both of you as husband and wife took a walk along the beach, hand in hand. Jake  swept you bride off your feet and carried her across a shallow part of the water, causing you to laugh and giggle like a child.

At the reception, You held each other tightly as you swayed to soft acoustic playing out of the speakers. You were surrounded by their family and friends, who toasted to your happiness and future together.

As the night drew to a close, Jake took your hand and led you away to a secluded spot on the beach. You sat down on a blanket and watched the stars twinkle in the sky, cuddling close to each other.

Jake whispered sweet nothings into you ear, telling you how much he loved you and how grateful he was to have you as his partner for life. You shared a tender kiss as the waves lapped at your feet, promising to love each other forever. 

That memory flashbacked in your mind, cracking your already broken heart even more that it already was. But you were set in your decision, you two were different people then. With different dreams, love untainted by time and circumstances. You don’t know if you could ever go back to the way you were.

You nodded, watching as he closed the door behind him. Alone in the quiet house, you let out a deep sigh and let the tears fall freely once again. You didn't know what the future held, but you knew that you needed to take things one day at a time. For now, all you could do was focus on yourself and your daughter, and try to heal from the pain and heartbreak that had consumed your life.

You are going to be okay. You and Astrid are going to be okay. 

______________________________________________________________

“Mom! Hurry up! I’m supposed to be at practice in 10 minutes!”

Your 8 year daughter was such a stickler for punctuality, you honestly sometimes questioned if she really was your daughter. You had the tendency to be fashionably late (if fashionably was 30 minutes), taking your time to make your way to events. 

“The field is 5 minutes away Atty, you’ll be fine.” 

“That’s what you said last week, but I ended up being 10 minutes late to warm-ups!” 

She pouted as you walked out into the foyer pulling your shoes onto your feet.

“Coach wouldn’t let me play the first half!” She continued. 

“Well don’t worry Sweetie, you make such a pretty benchwarmer.” You joked pinching her cheeks. 

You were greeted by your daughters scowl, she looked absolutely terrifying for a little (*ahem* big) girl dressed in a bright yellow soccer uniform, pastel pink cleats, and pigtails. 

Her punctuality and her terrifying glare, two things she’s inherited from her father. 

You dropped her off at a mostly empty soccer field, with only the two coaches and 2 other players occupying the area. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“Coach moved practice to 30 minutes later.” Your devious daughter smiled coyly. 

“Astrid Eleanor Seresin…did you just lie to your mother?” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

She quickly opened the car door and rushed out. 

“Omission is not a lie!” She yelled as she ran away. 

“Casey’s mom is dropping me off at home!” 

“Okay! I’m gonna see Auntie Penny!” 

“Tell her her I said Hi!”

You chuckled as you watched her retreating figure get further into the field. What kind of 8 year old knew the word “omission”? She no doubtly learned that from her father. Classic Jake. 

You put your car back in drive and made your way to the Hard Deck. 

“Hey Sweet Pea! Where’s my sweet little goddaughter?” Penny asked from behind the counter as you walked into the bar. 

It was still early afternoon so the bar was occupied by the bar staff getting ready for a night of servicing navy men. 

“Soccer practice.” You replied. 

“You said putting her in sports will tire her out but its somehow made her more energetic.” You groaned taking a seat at the bar. 

“She is her father’s daughter.” You heard a voice quip originating from the supply closet. 

“Hey Mav.” You smiled at the captain, 

“Hey (y/n), you and Atty still coming for the barbeque on Thursday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Atty says no one can grill em like you.” you responded. 

“That’s why shes my favorite.” Mav smiled with a toothy grin as he returned to the storage closet. 

“Sweet Pea, do you mind manning the bar for a second? I’m sure no one will come in, but just in case. Last time I left Pete unsupervised he dropped a whole pallet of beer.” Penny sighed. 

“It’s been a little while, but sure Penny.” 

“Anything for you.”

“Thanks Sweet Pea”

It was strange to be behind the bar, you and Astrid had been back at Fightertown for the past four years. 

It was really hard to explain to her the situation, but she was a smart child. She knew there was more going on between you, Bradley, and Jake than you let her in on. She knew that space from her Uncle Roo Roo and her Daddy was absolutely necessary for her mother’s well-being, and she was more than willing to be amenable to change if it meant you were happier. 

You eventually found a little one story house near Penny (and now Mav’s house), it was small but it was cozy and it was more than enough space for the two of you. You found a job in a nearby law firm, where you rose up the ranks and got your own corner office. 

You finally got the time to relax and breathe, to really focus on yourself, your dreams, and your daughter. And finally after 4 years, you finally felt at peace. 

The pain and the trauma will always live within but you have gotten to a place where you are content with your life and your past because it led you full circle. In Miramar, right where you belonged. 

As you stared down on the bar and wiped down the glasses reminiscing on your life, you didn’t notice the figure that walked into the empty bar. 

He plopped himself down in a stool in front of you and cleared his throat. 

You looked up and made eye contact with the figure and smiled. 

“Hey”

“Hi”

It honestly felt like coming home

Tag list below, I apologize if your tag did not work :(

@luckyladycreator2 

@lunamoonbby 

@n3ssm0nique 

@and-claudia 

@marrianena 

@hummusxx 

@writeroutoftime 

@abrielleholland 

@eroda-harry 

@maxi-milf-dot-com 

@jake-h-ngm-n-seresin 

@8oopsiedaisy8 

@dempy 

@playswithsquirrellls 

@bayisdying 

@mysticaldonkey 

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@bethebella 

@bespinnn 

@manwalaage 

 @sweet-creature98 

@8lyme 

@ashann7 

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp 

@maudeeloise 

@ambearsstuff 

@parker-natasha 

@wishingwell-2 

@my-soulmate-is-mycroft 

@carolinecakes  

@angzls 

@saintnourah 

@ebonyhogan24 

@taytay3212 

@fangirl-316 

@babyspiderling 

@iangiemae 

@yogabigooby 

@gracie145 

@choslover 

@maudeeloise

@cursedandromedablack 

@marland56 

@ynbutbetter 

@turningtoclown 

@dilfsandtherapy 

@strawberryblogg 

@unluckymonaghan 

@queeniesdiary 

@emilyniamh3679-blog 

@shaded-recs​ 

@romxnticist 

[snowblossomreads]

Day 2 - Restless Waiting

Pairing: Hans Gruber x Fem!Reader

Summary: Unaware of the true nature of her boyfriend's job, [Y/n] bids him a weary farewell before Christmas. Things began to crash and burn around her shortly thereafter.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): goodbyes, sadness, a little fluff at one point, things blowing up, not too much crazy in this one!

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: And in something totally different! Next on our list is the very handsome, the very suave, and the most polite thief you'll ever meet. Hans! This is my first time writing for him and he's quite soft for his little love so hopefully it's enjoyable! Off we go then!

When Hans told [Y/n] he had another job planned out and that it was to be on Christmas, she couldn’t deny the rush of frustration and worry that pulsed through her veins.

Frustration, because he would be missing another Christmas with her as his jobs, as he so lightly put them, always seemed to take him away from her during the holidays.

But also worry, because while she didn’t know what exactly these jobs entailed of as he never elaborated it on them more than he had to, she knew they were dangerous. He would often times come back with a new bruise here and a new scar there that had her fretting over him asking him what had happened. And all he would say was that it was just an accident. 

Accident her ass.

Also it had to be something unconventional because how else would he be funding the extravagant way they lived? A beautiful penthouse in the middle of a bustling city. Luxury trips as gifts to her for putting up with him missing holidays and important dates as he had once stated. And the purchase of expensive clothes and jewelry that he spoiled her with just because.

She wasn't dumb no, and she had a slight inkling that what he did may have also been on the gray side of the law. But by the time she had figured it out she was too deeply in love with the man standing in front of her to leave.

A man who was readying himself to leave for a job that had been in the making for months. One that was more lucrative than any single one he had done, and one he was keen on making work.

Was it dangerous absolutely. But what job didn't have its dangers, especially one with a payout of over $600 million dollars in untraceable bearer bonds. Oh, the risk and danger was well worth it.

Though Hans did have to admit the forlorn look in his [Y/n]'s eyes did give him pause as he readied himself to meet up with the rest of his crew. Would he abandon such a intricate plan all because of a look? Of course not. But she did give him pause which is closer than anyone has ever gotten to making him maybe rethink his plans.

"Liebchen don't look that way. You know I'll come back as always, " Hans murmured in that accented English that had captivated her when he had first approached her a many years ago. "Do not mar that pretty face of yours with something like that I much more prefer your smile so I can keep it in my memory until I return."

Smile? But for what. He wasn't giving her much to smile about as he finished his preparation, going back and forth between rooms gathering his suitcase and other things before making his way to the front door of their home.

"Oh right I should definitely smile because my boyfriend is going away yet again before Christmas for the third time in a row for some shady business he has yet to tell me about." She muttered under her breath while crossing her arms over her chest looking like a tantruming child.

It only made Hans grin as he stalked up to her, cornering her in between the wall and the door and causing her to cower a little. Not out of fear but at how close he was, so close she could feel his breath tickle her skin, warm with a hint of of the bourbon he had drank earlier on to 'warm oneself' as he said.

"What are you talking about? Have I not given you this beautiful home?" He questioned leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "Have I've not given you the designer clothes and the pretty jewelry that make you smile?" He added as he moved down to kiss her on each cheek. “Have you nothing to to smile about when I take you on trips, and make you squirm in pleasure on the expensive sheet of some bed far away from here?"

Cheeks feeling warm from the closeness and the seductive tone he was taking on knowing good and well she was very susceptible to it, [Y/n] was quick to try and push him away just to get some space in between them.

"H-Hans you that's not what I'm talking about and you know it!" She exclaimed and stuttered out all at once at the very smug face of Hans who seemed to be amused at how flustered she was. 

Damn him!

"I want to spend time with you during Christmas. Together as a couple and maybe even let my parents, who keep asking about you by the way, meet you!" Her words were punctuated with a little stomp and she knew it was a tad childish but she didn't care wanting him to understand how much she was against him leaving.

"I know I know and I will meet them I promise. This job though, it's a big one, if it all goes well it will be the last one. No more holidays away from you I promise you that."

His words dripped sincerity and his amber eyes burned with honesty as he took her hand into his and kissed her knuckles. Usually, the scratchy feeling of his beard tickling her skin would make her laugh, but she was so upset that she couldn't find it in herself to be amused. Only bitter.

"Somehow I don't believe that," she muttered dejectedly as tears began to try and work their way into her eyes betraying the chanting in her head that was telling her to not cry.

Worry was the only thing on her mind as she always worried about him. She didn't know what she would do if something happened to him. It hurt too much and it was the cause of the tears that leaked down her cheeks causing Hans to frown.

"What if something happens Hans. What happens if something goes wrong, what happens if you don't-."

She couldn't get the words out as the thought of him not coming home had her in shambles.

"My love, mein Liebchen," he pleaded as he kissed the top of her head and went to wipe the tears that had escaped. “Do not cry you know I do not like these tears of yours they upset me."

"Good because at least you know how you're making me feel," [Y/n] whimpered out as she tried to meet his eyes but failed as she let out another sniffle.

Whilst his heart did not enjoy seeing her upset, he knew what he had to do and even if it made her sad, too much was riding on him and his leadership. Because who else could come up with a plan as intricate and detailed as him?

"I promise I will be safe and that nothing will go wrong. Have I ever broken a promise between us?" He asked pulling her into a tight hug that had her shaking in his hold as she felt far more afraid than usual but was unsure why.

"Liebchen?"

"No you haven't but what if...what if something does go wrong? You always come home with bruises or scars when things go right and I just-."

"Hush enough of that," he interrupted just as [Y/n] voice cracked and she buried her face into the soft fabric of his shirt. His hand rubbed comforting circles on her lower back as he tried to calm her and it seemed to work as she began to be able to catch her breath again.

"Nothing will go wrong I promise. It is the holidays and what is it that you Americans always say, Christmas is a time of miracles no?"

Letting out a pitiful laugh and a sniffle before looking up at him with red rimmed eyes, she nodded but not without saying,

"We do but I also don't want to bet your return on a miracle they don't work sometimes."

His chuckle was deep and a bit nasally yet it vibrated in her body and made her stomach do little flips just at the sound of it.

"No miracles then, I will make sure we do not need any. But I must go now my company is waiting for me and we cannot be late."

Even if she begged him to stay she knew he would go as that man was stubborn and had a strong will that drove her crazy at times. Yet it was something she had grown to love as she knew he would do anything for her if she asked. Well anything but staying behind from a job...

Sighing she nodded and unhanded him still giving him a worried look.

"Promise me you'll be safe?"

"Yes of course especially when I have you to come home to." He affirmed confidently right before leaning down and planting a kiss on her lips as if sealing the deal.

The squeak of surprise that left her transformed into a tiny moan as she pawed at his front sighing as he deepened the kiss by bringing a hand to the back of head and putting light pressure on it to bring her closer.

There they stood for what felt like forever kissing and whispering soft words that only the other could here. And they exchange those words and lines, one being,

"Ich liebe dich mien Liebchen," whispered passionately in a soft husky voice by Hans as his amber eyes were trained on her for a moment before he pulled away from her embrace.

It made her a bit sad no longer being enveloped by his warmth. But she watched quietly as he gathered his bags and walked out the door into the elevator that serviced their building.

Turning around, he gave her a tiny smirk that had her heart leaping. And when the chime of the elevator dinged and the doors began to close she waved at him until they were parted by the heavy steel doors. Yet [Y/n] couldn't stop the queasy feeling in her stomach that lingered long after he was gone a little sigh leaving her before she whispered,

"I love you too sweetheart."  While looking forlorn at the emptiness in between her and where he had been before closing the door to their home.

It was Christmas day and she had paced around the house many times, waiting restlessly on Hans and his call.

Though once the clock struck 9pm and there was no word from him she knew something was wrong as he had promised to call around that time. And he never broke his promises.

As to distract herself from the thoughts she decided to turn on the TV to put on some sappy Christmas movie even if it made her sadder knowing that he wasn't with her.

Though that quickly changed when the TV turned on to a black and white photo of the man she had been waiting for to call. The sheer surprise and confusion had knocked her down onto the sofa and the words that were being said by the female news anchor only confused her more.

There were hostages being held in some building that was far from where he said he would be. And he was the leader of some terrorist group doing the hostage taking. And something about being in a terrorist group while he was in Germany but being kicked out?

What what what? She felt as if her mind was spinning as his picture stayed burned in on the top corner of the screen as the newscasters talked about some  Helsinki syndrome or some other.

All while [Y/n] mind continued to spiral. Her Hans? A terrorist? Holding people hostage? No that wasn't him. It couldn’t be him.

"No no this has to be some kind of joke," she whispered to herself as she tried to change the channel wanting to ignore what could not be ignored.

Yet each channel she turned to showed the same news story even on children's programming did the news interrupt as it was the biggest story of the year.

Hopping up from her seat,she began to pace anxiously. Her mind tried to tell her that it was a mistake and that it was the wrong person they were talking about. But unfortunately, her attention was taken back when the newscasters began shouting and she whipped her head back just in time to see an explosion on the top of the building.

The shout she let out could probably be heard by her upstairs and downstairs neighbor as she stared at the TV in dumbfounded awe.

"Oh my god that were people up there they've just killed all those people good lord!"

Shouted the newscaster as they all screamed and shouted over one another. But the only thing [Y/n] could comprehend as she watched the flames engulf the top of the tower causing some of it to crumble away was that her relationship was beginning to crumble just the same as the tower.

A/N: Heheheh will Y/n ever find out the truth about her beloved Hans? Who knows stay tuned (i hope!) Let me know how we are feeling about this story friends! until next time👋💖

Tag: @deepperplexity

[l-in-the-light]

(Mis)adventures of Law with the Strawhats [fanfiction snippet, part 1]

"Torao!!" he cries out way too loudly. "Let's play that game again!!"

Law turns towards him, but doesn't answer immediately and it's not even because his mouth is full at the moment, he doesn't care about that.

"Again…?" he finally voices out, looking at no one in particular.

"What game?" asks Chopper. Usopp also curiously looks between Law and Luffy.

"We played that funny thing yesterday when you zoom up and down and throw a stone with dots on it!" Luffy exclaims.

"Is that why you missed breakfast today?" Usopp asks and Luffy nods fervently.

"I wish I didn't. Sanji, can you make me a breakfast now??"

"Breakfast after lunch, huh?" Sanji muses from behind the counter. "Sure"

"Thanks, you're the best!!"

Law frowns. "Just play it by yourself this time" he grumbles between bites.

"No way! You said it can't be played alone! Also I already forgot the rules…"

"There's no way you already forgot them!" Law protests, takes a look at Luffy, then his eyes dart to completely opposite direction. "Fine, but gather more people. It's boring with just two. Get four more"

"I didn't think it was boring with just the two of us" Luffy beams at him, takes bigger bite and shouts "So who wants to play with us??"

"You didn't exactly tell us what type of game it is" Usopp frowns, while Chopper is already shouting back "Me, I want!!"

"It's just a regular snake and ladders board game" Law answers despite the question not being directed at him.

"It's yours?" Robin asks. "Didn't take you for the type to keep board games around"

"My crew often dragged me to play with them"

"But isn't Snake and Ladders a game for kids?" Franky butts in. "It takes me back… Tom bought it for us once, but Iceburg was a party pooper and said he's not a kid anymore and in the end I had to teach Yokozuna to play with me instead"

Law has no idea who all those people he mentioned were, so he just ignores that part.

"It is. It's not like he would be able to understand any more complicated game" he says while gesturing towards Luffy, who just laughs in answer and says with his mouth still full: "That's right. Can't wait to play!"

"You still miss three more people" Law reminds him.

"Oh, right. Guys, who wants to play? It's gonna be fun!!"

"I guess I could make you the honour of God Usopp joining in, just so you have enough people. Know my mercy!" says Usopp while his nose extends all the way up to the ceilling.

"ME!" repeated Chopper.

"I already counted you in" says Law which made Chopper exclaim some loud, possibly not malignant noises.

"I would love to try!" Yamato exclaimes after swallowing a whole plate of food at once.

"Great! Then we have everyone!"

"You're one person short" points out Law and smirks when Luffy grumbles at that.

"Come on guys, Robin, join us! Nami? Zoro??"

"I want to relax reading a book" Robin replies, smiling.

"I have plans already. I need to catch up on my map drawing" Nami exclaims as she gets up from the table, already having finished her meal.

"I'm gonna train" answers Zoro shortly.

Luffy frowns, looking around the table again. "Franky? Brook? Sanji? Jimbei?"

"I'm too old for that" Jimbei answers. "I will leave you youngsters to that"

"Same here" Franky adds.

"I will be busy making desserts for the ladies" Sanji chimes in.

Brook looks around the Sunny's kitchen back and forth, till finally answering as well. "I will gladly join"

"GREAT! Now we have everyone, you can't say no anymore!!" Luffy turns to Law and extends his hands high up, like in a victory pose. Law eyes dart to him for a second, but he doesn't say anything, just gets up and walks towards the door.

"Torao?" Luffy asks after him.

"Gonna go fetch the game"

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

"So, how do we play it exactly?" Usopp asks. "Not that I don't know already, mind you, I'm just asking because there's no way Luffy remembers the rules!"

"It's true, I don't" Luffy says.

"We all start from this place" says Law, pointing his finger to the starting position on the board. "We take turns rolling the die till we reach the goal, which is here" his finger moves all the way up on the board. "Whenever you land on a field with a ladder, you go up, till you reach the top of it. When you land on snake, you slide down instead. That's all there is to it"

"What's a die?" asked Chopper. Law looks at him, then looks at all of them looking back at him, he pauses and closes his eyes for a moment, and then takes a square-like object in his fingers.

"This is a die. You roll it like that" he says and flips it in his fingers and lets it fall to the board, the die making a short wooden noise when it meets the surface. Everyone stares at it before the object finally stops, showing five dots on top.

"So that's the legendary die… Of course I already knew that. I had a dozen, no, two dozens of them back in the village. It's the first time I see one made out of wood" Usopp blabbles.

"So what do we do? Do we just add all the dots on each side of it?" asks Chopper, inspecting the square and poking it with his hoof. "It's kinda hard to see all the sides though"

"No, wait, Chopper, that wouldn't make any sense" said Usopp, putting on his serious face and poking his own nose. "It wouldn't matter then to roll the die, because the sides never change, so the result would be always the same"

"Oh" Chopper comments.

"I think I get it. It must be the result on the top that counts. So, five dots!" Usopp concludes his deduction.

"Ooooh, you're so smart, Usopp!!" Chopper cries out.

"Of course" Usopp exclaims, smashing his hand to his chest. "After all I played many games before and flipped dozen of dies"

"Dice" Law corrects him.

"Right, this one is actually special, because it's wooden and called a dice. I knew that" Usopp says, raising his voice just a bit. He looks at Law, moves his eyes from left to right, and finally makes some random gesture of flipping his fingers. Law turns to Luffy instead. "Choose the order"

"Order?"

"Of who goes first, second, and so on, all the way to the last person for the round"

"OH. Easy, I'm going first, because I'm gonna be the King of the Pirates and I'm the captain!"

"Unfair!" Usopp protests immediately. "Let's decide by luck, we can draw lots"

Luffy makes a face, but before he can say anything, Yamato already extends scraps of paper in their direction. "Let's do it! That's how you do it, right??" he asks.

"When did you manage to get that?" Luffy exclaims. "You're so fast!"

Yamato snickers at him, quickly scribbles something on the papers, and holds the pieces in her fist, so that whatever is written can't be seen, only the tops of paper. "Choose one!"

Everyone but Law extends their hands to draw one. Yamato looks at him expectantly.

"You draw first. Whatever will be left is mine" he explains.

"I can?? Really??" Yamato chirps, eyes sparkling. "Thanks!!" pulls one lot out. "Oh, I have number 2" and looks apologetically at Law. "Yours is six" and shows him his number. "I can trade with you if you want!"

"I can trade with you too, Torao!! Though I think I got the worst number…"

"It's fine, I don't really care"

"You're so kind!" Yamato cries out over everyone shouting their own numbers over each other.

Law just quickly proceeds to put down pawns on the starting point.

"So, who is the first?" he asks no one in particular.

"God Usopp!" says the man, flashing his teeth and showing off his scrap of paper with number 1 on it.

"Good. You will be yellow then"

"Wait, I don't get to decide?!"

"Nope"

"Why?! Who gave you the right?! This is important, the most important decision to make, the colors will change everything about the gameplay!"

"I'm the last one to go, the rules say I get to decide the pawns for everyone"

Usopp looks at him and narrows his eyes. Finally he says, while pointing his finger at him. "I will still sue you if I lose because of that"

"I will sue you too!!" Luffy exclaims, pointing his finger at Law as well.

"You? What for?"

"I don't know!" Luffy frowns. "Why should I sue Torao?"

"I dunno-" starts Usopp.

"For not trading with you" Brook says instead, trying to be helpful.

"Thanks Brook! I will sue Torao for not trading lots with me!"

"Do you even know what that word means?" Usopp asks, just in case.

"Nope! Shishishi!"

"I also don't know!" Chopper says, raising his hoof high in the air.

"Then you won't know" Law butts in which earns him another loud cry from Chopper.

"It means to force a person that has treated you unfairly or hurt you in some way to give you something or to do something for you to make up for it" Brook explains, which earns him a sideway look from Law.

"Eh, then I don't want to sue Torao" Luffy says. "It doesn't sound fun. Forcing people isn't fun" and Chopper shouts "I also don't want to!", just a heartbeat too late to be in unison with Luffy.

"Said someone who forced me to play" Law counters, leaving Luffy speechless for once and immediately looking away.

"It's all Usopp's fault anyway!" the captain finally says, showing a tongue in sniper's direction.

"How is it my fault?! Keep me out of it! I know nothing of it!!"

"Are we playing guys??" Yamato butts in, quickly moving his arms up and down and looking from the board to everyone.

"YES" Luffy, Usopp and Law answer a bit too loudly in unison, and Chopper just a moment too late, while Brook just laughs.

tbc.

(I guess? Should I?)

[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero Part 2

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: After you give Gator a piece of your mind and something to think about when it comes to his father, you find out the hard way that you've said the wrong things to the wrong family. But are the consequences what Gator intended?

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show, this one is kinda dark and could be disturbing - reader is directly threatened, NOT a romance fic, the Tillmans are disturbed individuals...

Length: 700+

A/N: The part 2 no one asked for! (Part 1 here). This just sorta happened. After watching episode 3, we really got to see how fecked up Gator is thanks to his upbringing. I'd love for him to get a redemption arc of some kind and I guess that's the intention behind these (now AU) fics. I hope that you enjoy (:

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

A street lamp's pale, yellow glow casts a gloomy shadow over the small parking lot of the retirement home. It's past 11 p.m., and your evening shift has finally let out.

Descending the building's front steps, you fish your car keys from your purse and begin to weave your way through the remaining cars in the lot. You're rounding the box of a pickup truck when a dark figure appears in front of you.

"Evening, little lady." His voice rings deep and low.

Fear paralyzes you. You attempt a step backwards but immediately stumble into the smooth metal of the truck. Trapped.

As the figure shifts closer, the street lamp streaks color across a man. A cowboy hat and shearling coat take form in front of you.

Your breath becomes erratic, much like your heartbeat, as realization strikes; the man's status only elevates your fear.

"I heard that you were talking to my son," the voice of Roy Tillman continues. "Putting ideas in his empty little head that I don't have his best interests at heart."

He takes a step forward, and that's when you notice the dim light illuminating yet another figure. It's Gator, and he's grinning spitefully in your direction.

Everything in your body is telling you to run, but your brain knows that these men could easily catch and overpower you. There's nothing left to do but stand your ground.

"My son is my own flesh and blood." The sheriff explains simply, moving another step closer. "Helps me keep this town in order. The last thing we need," he draws even nearer, "is womenfolk like you disrupting the natural order of things." You curl your fingers into your palm, your nails painfully dent your skin. "And we can't have you going around humiliating law enforcement either, my dear."

With those last words, Roy Tillman levels his face in front of you. His cold, hard eyes bore deep into yours. A silver glint catches in your periphery—a hunter's knife unsheathed from the strap on his belt.

Your lungs betray you, and you unleash a frightened gasp.

Gator takes a tentative step forward.

"Women outta know their place in this world, little lady," whispers Roy, bringing the knife up into your field of view. "But sometimes it takes a bit of teaching for your type to truly understand." Roy twists the knife again, showcasing its serrated edge.

You feel tears stinging your eyes, and your stomach is ready to vomit.

In the background, a silent Gator's gaze flicks erratically back and forth between his father and you.

The blade tip then slowly moves towards your throat, the senior Tillman outwardly captivated by how your pupils dilate in pure terror.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rings out. "Dad!" Gator slides up beside his father. "Dad," he says again, voice lowered—hesitant; scared, almost. "I, uh, I think she gets it." Gator's hazel eyes once again dart between your fear-stricken face and the focused features of his father.

The older man's brow furrows, yet his eyes still deadbolt you in place. "Gator, we talked about this. Women do not undermine our authority. We are the law. She needs to learn."

You can practically feel the cold radiating off the knife blade as it encroaches to within mere millimeters of your throat.

"Wait!" bursts Gator once more.

Gator's actions finally cause Roy's head to turn. A look of sheer anger is cast down upon his son. Gator shrinks under its weight.

"I think she gets it now," he says meekly.

Roy scrutinizes Gator for several long moments, though finally, the knife retreats.

A relieved sob erupts from your chest, and Roy turns back to you, flashing you a hardened warning.

Gator, on the other hand, appears torn and confused, like a trapped animal desperate to escape yet too loyal to his captor to attempt breaking free.

In mere seconds, Roy retreats into the darkness as silently as he arrived, leaving Gator standing before you.

Gator has never been phased by how his father ran the county. Never once has he batted an eye when people needed a little reminder of who was in charge. But tonight? Gator had thought his father would simply talk him up and convince you that he was important. Gator never expected—or wanted—what just happened to happen. Instead, it seemed as though his father's only purpose was to once again eliminate any doubt about his own authority. The knife was a step too far. Maybe, just maybe, you had been right about his father all along...

A silent apology resides in Gator's features as he flashes you one last glance before swiftly disappearing from the parking lot in the same direction as his father.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

[owlwithanapple]

Fate Chapter 02. — Zoro

Roronoa Zoro X OC X Trafalgar Law

The story tells about the encounter between Yuki with Straw Hat Pirates from different worlds and different eras.

After waking up, the first thing you see when open your eyes is a strange room. At first thought it was just a long dream, but nothing changed when you woke up and still in your room on the ship.

The bed was lined with old clothes given by Nami and Robin. There was a bed in the room, a wooden-designed wardrobe and table, and lights hanging from the ceiling. You can also feel the ship rocking slightly as it drifts on the sea.

You lay on the bed and watched the light flicker, "I'm not dreaming."

Suddenly you heard a loud shelling. You felt something was wrong and quickly got out of bed ran out of the room to see what was going on. You ran in the direction of Luffy's loud noise.

The ship is being attacked by cannons, causing the ship to keep shaking. You almost lose your balance but quickly hold on to the wall to maintain your balance. You see two large ships firing at "Thousand Sunny" Luffy's pirate ship, although it's lucky that they didn't hit the ship.

You are all pirates and criminals wandering the sea. You will inevitably encounter any surprises and enemies. Raid also includes the Marine, the World Government's maritime military force responsible for maritime law enforcement and naval warfare operations.

You see that it's Marine's ship that's attacking. Ussop and Chopper are panicking and hiding for cover, Luffy and Zoro are dealing with the cannonballs and Marine.

"It would be unbelievable if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." You were shocked when you saw Zoro split the cannonball in half with his sword and then returned to Luffy. The splitting shell stayed in mid-air and exploded. You covered your face with your hands to avoid being hurt.

Sanji ran over and took your wrist. "It's dangerous here Yuki-chwan. Don't stand there and find cover!" Before you left with Sanji, you glanced back at the scene where Luffy and Zoro were fighting. You could do nothing but pray hope both of them safe.

Sanji took you to Nami's room for temporary shelter "I'm going to help outside, you two stay here first." Then Sanji left you and Nami then left the room.

You walked back and forth in the room, worried about their safety "I wonder what happened to them..."

"I'll get dizzy if you walk like this. Don't worry, they'll be fine. They'll be done with just a few small soldiers. Just glad it's not the general who takes action himself." Nami sat on a chair, flipping through the newspaper and crossing her legs.

"It happens every day?" You wonder what they go through every day.

Nami closed the newspaper immediately after hearing your question. "Almost every day. It's a daily routine for us. Just leave it to the three of them to deal with it and it'll be fine."

When you listen to Nami talk about, you stop "Really...?"

"I know you are worried about them. We are Nakama, trusting each other is the most important thing." Nami put her hand on your shoulder and smiled.

"I understand." You‘re feeling relieved.

There was a knock on the door and the two of you paused the conversation. You didn't know what the situation was like outside. It might be a Marine invasion. Nami picked up a weapon from the table waved her hand to tell you to take a few steps back. You understood and followed her instructions to step back a little.

Nami turned the doorknob then the door opened slightly. Suddenly a voice came out, "Nami-swannnnn~Yuki-chwannnn~Are you okay~"

You hear this familiar accent "Sanji!"

"Is everyone okay?" Nami put down her weapon.

Sanji proudly lit a cigarette. "Of course. The ship just a little damaged, nothing serious."

You smiled brightly, put your hands on your chest, and let out a sigh of relief as your heart settled down "Great, you're okay."

"Goddess, Goddess~!!" Sanji was so excited, nose started to bleed, he raised his hands and shouted.

Seeing how exaggerated and weird Sanji's reaction was, you and Nami looked at each other couldn't help but laugh. Sanji pressed his hands on chest saw you and Nami's beautiful faces. His heart couldn't stand it any longer.

"Is this paradise?" Sanji danced excitedly.

Nami tapped Sanji's head lightly, "Let's go and clean up. Yuki, change into some light clothes and come back."

You looked at your outfit ,you’re so anxious to run out that forgot to change into a clean set of clothes. You left Nami's room returned to own room. You picked up the clothes on the bed one by one and looked at them. You felt a little troubled.

In daily life, except for going to school and working, you wear a designated uniform. Almost all the tops you wear when going out on the street are simple T-shirts, a jacket, cropped pants or short skirts.

The temporary clothes that Nami and Robin gave you, they were all quite revealing. Thinking of Nami and Robin, most of their clothes show off their waists. Nami's outfit today is a bikini top paired with denim tights.

They traveled across the sea every day, it was understandable that they wore little clothing as the weather was so hot. Luffy just wore a straw hat, an unbuttoned red shirt reveal his figure, and paired it with cropped pants.

Zoro is wearing a green coat, black trousers and black boots. Sanji is in a full suit, Chopper has a furry body and a pink hat. Franky wore a pair of underwear, and Robin wore a simple one-piece short skirt.

Although it may seem revealing to wear less clothes, it is not a bad thing to at least keep cool. Everyone seems to be used to it. Since this is the case, if you want to get familiar with other worlds, you must do as the locals do.

"I'm giving it all..." You sat cross-legged on the bed with sweat on your forehead, staring at the black bikini top and denim shorts.

You untied the bow of your school uniform, unbuttoned your shirt one by one, took off your shirt folded and placed it on the chair aside. Pick up the black bikini top and tie the straps around your body.

After putting on your bikini top, you slightly adjust your breasts with to make them look fuller and more natural. You unzipped and took off your school skirt, putting on a shorts and a pair of black short boots.

You look in the mirror, "I've never worn anything so revealing in my life... In the past, people would have looked at me strangely when they saw this outfit." You sighed helplessly.

The first thing you think about after leaving the room is rush to help clean it. Ussop hurriedly moved a wooden box to the other side. When he noticed you, he immediately braked and stopped.

"Yuki! Bring the two buckets of water over there to Chopper! Thank you!" After saying that, he left in a hurry.

You walked slowly with a bucket full of water in each hand "It's so heavy..."

"Hey, let me get it." Someone took a bucket from your hand from the side.

It was Zoro. He took the bucket without saying anything. You looked at him with a puzzled and ignorant face.

In your dazed state, Zoro noticed that you had changed your clothes. You are wearing a black bikini top that shows your plump breasts, and a pair of shorts that show off your slender legs and your slim waist.

You came into this world wearing a conservative school uniform, but now you are wearing Nami-style clothes. He was used to seeing Nami and Robin or other girls dressing like this, but you were the one who thought it was a bit subtle.

Maybe you come from another world, so he feels fresh and slightly special from your change. Obviously he often sees other people dressed like this but he really thinks you're hot.

In addition, the weather is very hot today, and some hair is stuck to your white and tender skin due to sweating. The sweat drops slowly flow from your forehead to between your breasts, which looks very erotic.

"Zoro?"

When you called his name, he was completely awakened from his daze. "To whom?"

"Ussop said it was for Chopper. Are you okay?" After saying that, you thought about the scene of him fight against Marine just now and a little worried.

Zoro avoided your eyes indifferently "I'm fine." After saying that, he turned around and left.

"Zoro, wait for me." You quickly followed him.

After Zoro put the bucket down, Chopper and Robin began to soak the cloth in the bucket and wring it out before starting to wipe things. When Nami saw you, she called and waved to you. You went over and took the mop to help her with chores.

Franky called Zoro to help move things quickly to help repair the ship. Zoro picked up the plank put it on his shoulder, glanced at you, and started working. Sanji and Brook stood aside to observe you, Nami and Robin's graceful and sexy figures.

"Nami-swan is very dazzling. Robin-chwan is very beautiful. Now Yuki-chwan is so attractive." Sanji said seriously even had a nosebleed.

Brook agreed with what Sanji said, "I have never regretted joining the Straw Hat Pirates in this life."

While you were busy mopping the floor, you accidentally saw an inexplicable scene where Sanji and Brook who had a bleeding nose, high-fived and hugged each other. Knowing what they were thinking, you were speechless and inexplicably amused.

Nami smiled erotically, "Yuki, your figure is really amazing."

You lowered your head looked up from your feet and up again, "Really? I think you and Robin are better."

"Hehehe, Yuki, you have such a sweet mouth." Nami patted your back.

You smiled slightly, "I'm just telling the truth."

"The damage to the ship was small this time, luckily." Nami sighed while hugging the mop.

You nodded "I'm glad everyone is okay."

While everyone was working together to clean the boat, Luffy was jumping over with a bucket of water then accidentally kicked the board and was about to fall. The water splashed on Zoro's back. Zoro put down the board and stretched Luffy's cheeks to quarrel.

"What the hell are you doing!" Zoro angrily grabbed Luffy's collar.

Luffy said "I'm sorry..." with an aggrieved look on his face.

You took a towel and handed it to Zoro who was already wet. "Dry it quickly or you'll catch a cold."

"Marimoooooo that guy." Sanji looked extremely unhappy.

He let go of Luffy took the towel you handed him. He wanted to say "Thanks..." but he hesitated.

"Huh?" You were confused by Zoro who was hesitant to speak now.

He scratched his head "Thanks, Yuki." He said it calmly.

It was the first time you heard him call your name, "You're welcome." You felt very happy.

After a while, the cleaning was completed, to the previous world you cleaned the class after class every day. Thanks to this outfit you can stay cool while cleaning on a hot day.

Nami handed towel to you. The two of you found a place to sit down began to wipe the sweat off your body. After Robin and Chopper finished cleaning, they came over to sit and chat together.

Nami fanned herself, "It doesn't matter if it's hot, it will get even hotter once you clean it."

"That's right, I'm all sweating." Robin wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

"So thirsty~" Chopper lay on your lap.

You gently stroked Chopper's furry fur, "I'm thirsty too."

Sanji excitedly stepped in between the four of you midway. His eyes stared lovingly at you, Nami and Robin. It was like seeing the arrival of a god.

"The three sweating ladies are awesome~ they look even sexier and more charming~" he said excitedly, clasping his hands.

You thought if heard such words in your world, you would call the police. But Nami said Sanji is like this to every girl. Although he is lustful, he still retains a gentleman's demeanor, and very protective of girls so can rely on him more.

"Sanji...I need a cold drink..." Nami fanned herself.

You raise your hand "I want to quench my thirst too."

"Leave it to me! I'll prepare it for you right away~" He ran away excitedly.

Chopper sat up "Arigato, Nami and Yuki. Otherwise I'm going to die of thirst."

"Hehehe, no way." Robin touched Chopper's head.

After a while, Sanji enthusiastically came over with four cups of cold drinks, "My beautiful and lovable ladies, it is difficult for work in this hot weather, so I offer you a cup of my special cold drinks~"

Since you are not used to eating food when you come to their world, you will first make judgments about the appearance of the food. The color of the drink is orange, and you smell a faint orange flavor. You take a sip with a straw in your mouth. It tastes so fragrant and it is an orange-flavored drink.

"Hehehe, it tastes really good." Robin took a sip and tasted it carefully.

Chopper drank the drink in one gulp "It's finally cold~"

"It tastes great!" Nami continued to enjoy the deliciousness of the cold drink.

Sanji looks at you, "How do you like it? Does it suit your taste?"

"It's so perfect that it conquers me." You bit the straw and got intoxicated by the cold drink.

Sanji after hearing what you said he immediately knelt down on one knee and held your hand with a serious look on his face, "Yuki-chwan, although the world between us is far apart, please allow me to come into your heart and protect you for the rest of your life."

"Huh?" You were fooled by his love words.

Luffy came over and interrupted "Sanjiiii~ I want it too~"

"I want it too!" Ussop also joined in the fun.

"Tch! Don’t disturb Yuki-chwan and I's wonderful romantic time!" Sanji suddenly got angry and was super annoyed because Luffy interrupted him.

"Want me to help?" You want to help him.

Sanji let go of your hand then stood up, "Ladies, just enjoy yourself and leave the rest to me." Then he dragged Luffy and Ussop away.

Franky heard Sanji’s special cold drink and said, “Sanji, I want one here too.”

"Is there any frozen wine?" Zoro stopped working.

Sanji lost his temper , "Come and get it yourself!"

A fierce argument after, they followed Sanji go inside to get drinks. You seem very lively as if they are a family taking care of each other.

Nami raised his glass, "This ship's special treatment for women comes from Sanji." She winked at you.

You bit the straw to understand what Nami meant, "Wow, then I'm really honored to be treated like this."

"Do men in Yuki's world treat women like this?" Robin asked you curiously thinking about this question.

Chopper came closer, "I'm curious too, because you seem to be not used to Sanji's personality."

"The men around me generally don't treat every woman like this. After all a sudden thoughtfulness will make you a little wary." You probably explain to them.

Nami stirred her cold drink with a straw. "Is there a lot of danger in your world?"

You put your hand on your chin as if thinking, "Not long ago, I was riding the subway and a male classmate who was about the same age as me spoke to me."

"Then what?" Robin listened carefully and cared.

"During the conversation, he picked up the phone with his other hand took a photo under my skirt." You feel annoyed when you think about it.

Suddenly Sanji heard the content and rushed over, "Really?!"

The other people became curious, each grabbing their own drinks and gathered around to continue listening to your story. Originally it was just you, Robin, Nami and Chopper, but now other boys are also here to listen.

"Wow!!" You were startled.

Robin continued to ask seriously, "Then how do you deal with it?"

You still feel angry when you think back to that incident. "I thought about slapping him, but after found out that the person was the principal's son, they just took money and sent me away. I felt worthless they just use money to deal with the humiliation of me."

You finished speaking and looked at the others, they all looked very unhappy and looked as ferocious as if they wanted to kill someone. Even the cute Chopper’s face is fierce but so cute.

"If I were here, I would make sure that he has no descendants!" Sanji raised his feet and shouted angrily.

"I really want to wring that guy's neck." Although Robin had a kind expression, her words were so dark.

"I must tie him up and sell him!" Nami wanted to sell that kind of person for money.

"I will beat him away for you!" Although Luffy looked happy, he was already clenching his fists and preparing to fight.

"Cut him." Although Zoro just continued casually, he was exuding murderous intent.

"Yohoho, I haven't even seen the bottom of Yuki-san's skirt. I must throw him into the sea and feed it to the monster until he is left with a skeleton." Brook stated his motive.

"That guy will be punished by Captain Ussop!" Ussop held his slingshot weapon.

You were so moved by everyone's reaction that you laughed out loud. Everyone looked confused, knowing that this incident would hurt you. Luffy saw you laughing and he laughed too.

Chopper poked "Yuki, what's wrong?"

You wiped away your happy tears. "I thought to myself if that guy came to this world, he would be beaten to a bloody pulp by you. But now I can't see that guy anymore, so I'm relieved. Thanks for fighting for me."

Franky was moved after hearing what you said, "What a good girl."

"That's exaggerated, Franky." You laughed.

Brook picked up his guitar, "Ahem... Now that everyone is gathered together and welcome the new member Yuki-san, I will sing a song for everyone."

"Brook can sing?" You looked at the voice being prepared to start.

"Yuki-san, I am "Soul King" Brook, a musician and swordsman of the Straw Hat Pirates." Brook said proudly, playing the guitar.

"What a cool skeleton!" Your eyes shine.

Brook started his performance singing a song with his guitar, everyone swayed and clapped to the rhythm of the music. It’s really nice to be able to listen to music performances so close. Usually you watch them on TV or on your mobile phone.

He finished his performance you immediately applauded enthusiastically and gave him an "encore!"

"Encore?" Brook was curious what you were talking about.

"Oh, encore means that after the singers, performers and other performers have finished their performance, the audience appreciates the performance and hopes that the performer can return to the stage to continue the performance." You told him the meaning of the word.

"Encore? It's a word that really suits me." Brook's expression showed that was very happy.

"Hey everyone! Let's have an encore!" Luffy jumped up and applauded enthusiastically.

"Encore!" As Luffy and you set the mood, others shouted slogans and applauded warmly, giving Brook a round of applause.

The atmosphere was heated so Brook decided to continue his performance. Luffy was so excited pulled Ussop and Chopper to play hand in hand. Robin and Nami sat aside and hummed happily to the rhythm.

You are immersed in the warm and lively atmosphere now. In the past, when you came home nothing else to do except your homework. Now you can get together with everyone and have fun, as if they have filled your life with colors and emotions.

You are still a little sentimental in your current life. What should do if suddenly return to your own world one day? Just go back to that boring world and study hard every day.

All you can do now is enjoy every minute of living with them. They are a precious treasure and irreplaceable happiness for you. Hope you can have a chance to tell them "I love you Straw Hat Pirates" before go back.

This thought suddenly came into your mind, you felt so sad and choked when you poked a sore spot for no reason. You took the empty cup and left first, not wanting to interrupt their lively atmosphere.

You walked into the kitchen to refill the cold drink that Sanji had just made. You leaned against the table and wiped away the tears that almost fell. You turned around and saw Zoro, who was blocking the door with his hands crossed on his chest.

You catered to him with a smile, "Zoro! Are you coming for a refill too?"

"Yeah." He just said coldly and continued to remain silent.

Picking up the cup, you prepared to leave but he still blocking the door. "Zoro, please make way."

He walked towards you, and felt a little impatient in his eyes. Subconsciously, you immediately started to step back and lean against the table. You held the cold drink in your hands and gulped, wondering what he wanted to do.

His hands were placed on the left and right sides of you on the edge of the table, and his left foot was between your legs. He was so close to you that he was literally right in front of your eyes.

When you first see him, he is a silent man who loves to drink. But when you get so close, you have to look up at him. He is really tall and powerful, with strong muscles and a scar on his eye that highlights his wild side.

You didn’t have the opportunity to see such a strong man so close in your world. You couldn’t help but peek at his figure because of the turmoil in your heart, but his eyes were full of impatience. You still shrank and lowered your head and asked, “Excuse me, what’s wrong? "

He just wanted to ask you why suddenly looked sad without telling everyone what you were thinking. But his body and unconscious attitude toward you were so proactive that he was annoyed by what was wrong with him, now he stopped and felt embarrassed.

He maintained his current posture, thinking about how to speak first, "Are you okay?"

You don't know what his intentions are and feel confused, so you casually say, "I'm just thinking about something."

"Really...Then why do you have this expression?" He has noticed your mood change.

This is the first time someone is willing to listen to your thoughts. You hesitate and try to tell him, "I'm very happy to get along with all of you, but it's just feel a little sad if suddenly have to go back one day in the future."

"Then have more fun." Zoro felt relieved after hearing what you said and raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

You smiled brightly, "Okay."

Sanji noticed that you were not there, he excused himself and went to look for you. He was wondering you might be refilling the drink in the kitchen, he saw an inexplicable and unpleasant scene at the door of the kitchen.

"Marimo, what are you doing to Yuki-chwan!" Sanji rushed over.

Sanji used his strength to drag Zoro aside and you were scared and you clenched the glass filled with cold drinks in your hands. You finally got rid of Zoro, but the two of them suddenly dragged each other and started to quarrel.

"What did you do to Yuki-chwan!" Sanji bumped Zoro's head with his forehead.

Zoro bumped Sanji's forehead back without showing any signs of weakness, "Nothing done!"

"Are you kidding me? I see you have bad thoughts about Yuki-chwan." Sanji was annoyed.

Zoro replied unhappily to Sanji, "That's what you think!"

Suddenly someone hit them both on the back of the head with a fist, "Stop it, you two idiots!"

It's Nami! She gritted her teeth, raised her fist with her left hand showed a fierce look, and put her right hand on her waist. You took the drink and ran to hide behind Nami. You took a glance and saw that the two people had stopped arguing.

"What are you two idiots doing!?" Nami was extremely angry.

Sanji pointed his index finger at Zoro "This idiot Marimo is harassing Yuki-chwan!"

"I don't! Perverted chef!" Zoro pointed back at him.

It is conceivable that they really didn't get along with each other and started arguing again.Nami punched them twice to calm them down. Nami sighed and looked at you hiding behind him and asked, "Did Zoro harass you?"

I shook my head, Zoro didn't touch any part of your body. Zoro shook his head wordlessly, and Sanji looked stupid.

Nami clapped her hands, "Okay, since we have nothing to do, let's leave now. Sanji will prepare the ingredients for dinner, and Zoro go do your own thing." After explaining, she left.

Sanji was so angry and his right foot burst into flames, "Marimo..."

"Want a fight?" Zoro smiled evilly and held the scabbard, pushing the sword with his thumb to expose it.

You already think the special effects are cool when you watch Anime, but now you can actually see with your own eyes Sanji's feet can spontaneously ignite flames, and Zoro splits a cannonball in half with a samurai sword.

"Stop! Stop fighting!" You quickly ran to stop them both.

Sanji saw you running over quickly put out the fire "Yuki-chwan! It's dangerous!"

"Hey! You!" Zoro started to panic when he saw you running over.

"It's more dangerous than the two of you fighting! Idiot!" You closed your eyes and shivered, holding the cold drink and shouting.

You are timid and cowardly, but Zoro knows you are strong at heart. Even in a strange world, you still face it with a smile as usual. You are brave enough to take a step to stop them both. He glances at you and sighs, deciding to temporarily call a truce with Sanji. Otherwise he will accidentally hurt you.

Sanji felt extremely relieved when he noticed the cute and timid appearance now. He really couldn't bear to make you sad now,so he chose to stay calm and not argue with Zoro about things.

You opened your eyes to peek, "Are you guys going to stop arguing?"

Zoro snickered, "Idiot. Don't rush out like this next time." After that he left.

"Idiot Marimo, how dare he call Yuki-chwan idiot! But for the sake of Yuki-chwan, I won't care about that Marimo." Sanji took out a cigarette and lit it.

"Phew...that's great." You smiled slightly.

Sanji suddenly grabbed your hands with both hands. "Yuki-chwan really can't rush over suddenly next time. It's dangerous." His expression was very nervous.

You nodded to show you understood.

Sanji gently touched your head, "You are so good Yuki-chwan~" Although he had a cigarette between his teeth, he still smiled at you.

The warm scene was interrupted by Sanji suddenly got a nosebleed and was startled. You panicked and started to run to find Chopper but Sanji pulled to stop you.

He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the nosebleed. Your nervous and panic reaction made his heart melt completely, his heart was beating fiercely all the time.

"Sanji?" You tilted your head and looked at him.

He regained consciousness and subconsciously let go of your hand, "Sorry."

"Want me to help with dinner?" You asked politely.

"Leave the work in the kitchen to me. Yuki-chwan, just stay tuned." Sanji put out his cigarette.

Sanji had already started to take out a sharp kitchen knife to prepare ingredients for dinner. You took the cold drink and went back to find the others. You saw Nami and Robin discussing something, and they immediately waved to you when they saw you.

"You've been busy all afternoon. Do you want to take a shower together?" Robin invited you.

"We can have dinner after taking a shower~" Nami stretched.

"Okay." You happily followed them to the bathroom.

You walked to the bathroom together, immediately took off all the clothes and soaked your bodies in the bathtub. All the fatigue you felt disappeared at once, as if you had become one with the bath water.

Sanji brought the fragrant food to the table. Luffy smelled the smell and rushed to grab it, but was stopped by Franky. Everyone was sitting at the dining table waiting for before starting. Only Luffy was drooling.

Luffy murmured and shook his feet impatiently, "Neh... Where are Nami and the others?"

"They taking shower together." Chopper told Luffy.

"Taking a shower together?!" Sanji and Brook yelled.

The two of them imagined the three of you naked taking a bath together, playing in the bathtub, touching each other's bodies and other obscene thoughts.

"The three ladies who caused the crime." Sanji spoke with a serious expression.

"I want to help them brush their backs," Brook said frankly.

"If Nami hears what you two said definitely will be beaten." Ussop added.

When Zoro recalled that your upper body was only wearing a bikini top and shorts, he almost lost control in the kitchen just now, he didn't know why he felt this way.

The image of you sweating kept recurring in his mind, the sweat dripping from your hair slowly sliding from your collarbone to between your breasts. He admitted that you were really erotic but he still resisted the urge.

"It smells so good!" A female voice came from behind.

You, Nami and Robin changed your clothes after taking a shower and walked to the dining table to find others. Not far from the dining table, you can smell the delicious food cooked by Sanji.

Chopper waved from his seat and jumped up. Looking at his cute appearance, you happily ran over to pick him up with your hands and hold him high. He is as innocent, lively and cute as a child, reminding you of the past inadvertently.

You put Chopper back in his place, you saw an empty seat next to Zoro and sat down. Zoro took a sip of wine and glanced at you briefly to see that you were tying a high ponytail with a hair tie.

Look at you again in the off-shoulder top with a one-line neckline, exposing your collarbones and shoulders. He smelled a faint floral scent. The strange thing is that this scent can be smelled on Nami or Robin every day, but it is extra special to have this scent on you.

Luffy snatched a piece of meat and put it in his mouth to chew, "Let's eat!"

Zoro came back to his senses when he heard Luffy's yell, otherwise he would have really fallen deeper and deeper. Maybe it's because of your identity makes you particularly attractive that he has an undue desire for you.

He couldn't figure out why so he chose to give up thinking and just put a bottle of wine into his mouth and started drinking. You were shocked because it was as simple as seeing how strong he was drinking, as if the bottle of wine was just boiled water.

Remembering Luffy's huge appetite, you quickly grabbed some food put it on your plate before he finished eating. You are very happy now and it is really wonderful to be able to live a harmonious life with everyone.

To Be Continued—

💙If you have any ideas leave them in the comment section, and I will try to add in the story.⚠️