#old neck commercials

[sy-on-boy]

future damianya telling their kids their story is gonna be like "yeah your mother got a bolt for me and i offered to wear the bomb around her neck and i promised to invent commercial space travel for her and we finally danced. yes in that order. yes i was six years old,"

[slippery-minghus]

i love you doing my little stretches before bed! i love you walking 30min each way to and from work! i love you meds that make my brain let me do these things!

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[jymwahuwu]

BARKINGN WOOF WOOWF DOES HE LIKE DOGS?? I CAN BARK!! GOOD HEAVENS MR. RECA. MISTER MISTER!! HELLOOO SAILORRRR!!

cough cough, my apologies for that outburst but here are my thinking thoughts on Mr. Reca..

Thinking of him holding you in a headlock to make sure the camera could capture your face. Maybe press down on your tongue with some of his fingers so the camera can capture those lil mewls and such.

He loves to keep going until he sees that doe-eyed blank stare you get whenever he goes too far. Face tear-stained while you drool mindlessly against his fingers. In fact, he always tries to get that one clip in whenever he wants to record(which is always.)

Bondage but it's him tying you up with old film from your previous commercial/scenes of you in other movies. Just so he can see the before and after his special films. He loves you dearly, look at how footage he kept of you from your previous acts!!

(Also on a more romantic topic, thinking him of making roses out of his favorite film tapes of you on the first date. You don't know because it's pitch black but they're actually from the films that you have acted as a romantic love interest. He's very sweet..when he's not insane me think.)

I passed out…Mr. Reca…his movie-related kink, and the way he expressed his love…😩💖💖💖

cw: yandere, dub-con, obsession, humiliation, oral sex, ooc because the official plot has not been released yet

Headlock may be a little rough, but that's the way to get your face on camera! He enjoys making low-budget movies for his own entertainment, without any regard for commerce but only his art and desires. The camera is right in front of you. Are you a little too shy? His arms were draped across your neck, holding your face in place as you bounced on his cock. Now you can't avoid the camera no matter what. He presses his thumb against your tongue as you swallow those sobs. No reason to hide them!

Mr. Reca doesn't show restraint. He pushes you to your limits to see how far you can go. Disappointing that you only need 5-6 orgasms to be brainless. The dazed look on your face is priceless (eyes melting out of focus, tears all over your face, and trembling legs. No quick reaction, just a subconscious whimper as your lips wrap around the cock). He often fails to part with these precious films and adds plots that have no obvious connection. In a movie about human loneliness in the universe, the scene of your orgasm is played. This is what happens at film festivals and cinemas. Anyway, if the audience complains, he will say it is a montage.

He keeps every movie that includes you. Those are his treasures. Even with the technology here, he still keeps these physical movie discs in his collection box. There are handwritten marks on it, such as: "1:15:32 blowjob part", "A must-see during the holidays", "3 hours without breaks version" and so on.

This stems from Mr. Reca's romantic moment. He created a CD collection of movies about you, decorated with fresh flowers and a cosmic gemstone.

Tucked inside is a card:

"To my favorite actor, legend, and sun. (Beautiful cursive writing, but at the last word, the person who wrote it seemed a little emotional, and the ink melted) Only when the sun shines on him, the moon will glow.”

[pandapetals]

One Of Your Girls

worst wolverine/logan x fem!reader - inspired by a troye sivan song, fluff, cute, happy ending, wade being wade, no y/n used, no reader description

Wade ships you and Logan together and tries to help make y'all a couple.

read on Ao3

You sat on the worn-out sofa in Wade’s living room, half-listening as he rambled on about his latest grueling day of being the “sexiest superhero alive.” He and Wolverine—or Wolvie, as Wade annoyingly liked to call him—had teamed up again, taking down some bad guys and saving the world, or at least a very small part of it.

“So there I am,” Wade continued dramatically, gesturing wildly, “surrounded by ninjas, which isn’t really a surprise because let’s be honest, ninjas are kind of my thing at this point—classic Deadpool. But Wolvie’s just there, growling and stabbing his way through, and I’m like, ‘Dude, we get it, you’re the strong, silent type, but maybe use your words once in a while?’”

He kept talking, something about the “grueling emotional labor” of working with Logan, but you weren’t really paying attention anymore. Your gaze drifted to the hallway, where Logan emerged from the bathroom with a grunt, a small towel barely hanging around his waist. His skin glistened with droplets of water from the shower, the muscles in his back rippling as he stalked down the hall.

You tried to tear your eyes away, but it was like gravity itself was keeping you glued to him. Logan moved with that same effortless intensity, his brow furrowed like he was annoyed at the mere existence of the towel. The heat rose to your face, and you quickly looked down, but not before catching a glimpse of Logan’s rough hand wiping the moisture from his chest.

Wade, of course, noticed because when doesn’t he notice?

“Geesh, I knew you were down bad for Wolvie, but—” Wade started, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to share some scandalous secret.

Without thinking, you slapped his shoulder to shut him up, your face burning as you tried to compose yourself. Wade, ever the drama queen, let out an exaggerated gasp and clutched his shoulder like you’d just thrown him into the sun.

“Ow! That hurt my feelings,” he said, turning toward an imaginary camera because, of course, he was breaking the fourth wall. “She hit me, folks, and not in the fun, sexy way either.”

You shot him a glare, your lips pressed into a tight line, though you couldn’t help the flicker of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Wade wasn’t done. He never was.

“You know, it’s always the quiet ones,” he added, stage-whispering as if that would somehow make Logan disappear or teleport out of the apartment in embarrassment. “Can’t say I blame you though. Look at him, all angry and dripping wet—he’s like a feral wolf in an Old Spice commercial. Honestly, if this was the kind of quality content the MCU promised me, I wouldn’t have jumped ship for Deadpool 3: The Comeback —coming soon, by the way.”

Logan, ignoring Wade as per usual, had already stalked off toward his room. He muttered something unintelligible, probably about how Wade was going to get his ass kicked later, but the low rumble of his voice still made something in your stomach twist. He hadn’t even looked at you, but you felt the heat creeping up your neck, spreading to your cheeks.

Wade, of course, was not done with his commentary. “Dude, he didn’t even throw you a glance,” he said, wagging a finger. “I mean, if I walked out of the shower looking like a damn Greek god with claws, I’d at least give a wink. Maybe even a smolder. Oh, wait!” He perked up and leaned forward, his voice dropping to a faux-conspiratorial tone. “What if he’s doing that on purpose? You know, like a power play? He’s got the whole brooding, tortured thing down—girls love that, by the way.”

You slapped him again—lighter this time, but Wade still let out an exaggerated groan.

“Oh, c’mon! The sexual tension in here is thick enough to slice with one of Logan’s claws. You’re telling me if he showered in your apartment, half-naked, and you wouldn’t immediately jump his bones? What are we even doing here, people?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. “Wade, for the love of God—”

“God has abandoned this apartment long ago,” Wade interrupted, standing up dramatically, his arms wide as if making a declaration. “But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’m more than willing to give you both some fantastic relationship advice.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh. "Wade, the last time you gave relationship advice, you told someone to ‘just show up shirtless’ and that would fix all their problems.”

Wade grinned, completely unbothered. “Did it work?”

“They were arrested for public indecency.”

“Semantics!” Wade waved it off, flopping back down beside you. “Now, where was I? Oh, right. Wolvie. You know, he's probably sitting in his room right now, thinking about you. Brooding, shirtless, glaring out the window like some tragic anti-hero from a really dark fanfic.”

Before you could respond, Logan reappeared—this time, fully dressed but still clearly annoyed. “Wade, shut the hell up.”

Wade, undeterred, turned toward you and whispered loudly, “See? I told you he was brooding. He’s totally into you.”

You shot Logan an apologetic look, though you could tell from the tightness around his jaw that he was this close to throwing Wade out a window. Logan didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on you just a second too long before he stormed off again, muttering something about “goddamn loudmouths.”

Wade leaned back on the sofa, folding his arms behind his head with a smug grin. “Oh, yeah. He’s in deep. ”

The rest of the day was filled with more of Wade’s sarcastic quips and Logan’s signature gruffness, but beneath the surface, something had shifted. By the time the sun set, Wade had finally left leaving you and Logan alone in the apartment promising to bring back pizza.

Logan was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking worn out, his head hung low as he rubbed the back of his neck. You stood in the doorway, watching him quietly for a moment before stepping closer.

“You alright?” you asked softly.

Logan grunted in response, his usual noncommittal way of saying “I’m fine.” Before he glanced up at you, and something in his expression softened. His shoulders relaxed slightly as you sat down beside him, the silence between you comforting.

“Wade get to you?” you asked with a smirk, nudging him playfully.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “That guy never knows when to shut up.”

“Yeah, well, you gotta admit, he’s got a point,” you teased, nudging him again. “You do tend to brood.”

Logan gave you a look, his usual scowl softened by the hint of amusement in his eyes. “I don’t brood.”

“Right. Sure you don’t,” you said, smiling as you sat on the bed beside him. The air between you was lighter now, but that familiar, charged tension still lingered, just under the surface. “So… was Wade right? You were totally into me earlier, weren’t you?”

Logan chuckled under his breath, running a hand through his still-damp hair, his muscles still tense from the fight and the usual Deadpool chaos. “You’re ridiculous.”

“ You are,” you countered, your voice taking on a teasing tone. You leaned in closer, bumping your shoulder against his. “I mean, look at you. Everyone loves you. I swear, every time we go out, every woman in the room is practically lining up just to—”

“Would you stop? You sound like Wade,” Logan grumbled, his voice low but without any real annoyance. He shook his head, but there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed, your eyes sparkling as you nudged him again. “I’m serious, Logan. I’ve seen the way they look at you. Like they’re all just waiting for their turn to fawn over the ‘mysterious bad boy.’ The brooding, the claws, the ‘I’ve been through hell’ vibe—it’s working for you.”

Logan shot you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “I’m not trying to ‘work’ anything.”

You shrugged, your grin widening. “That’s the problem. You don’t even have to try. You just walk into a room, grumble a bit, maybe glare at someone, and they’re hooked.”

He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, please. Next time we’re out, I’ll start keeping a tally of all the looks you get,” you teased. “What’s it like being the main character in everyone’s secret fantasy?”

Logan huffed, giving you a side-eye that would’ve scared anyone else, but you just smiled. “Keep it up, and I’ll start sounding like Wade for real.”

You burst into laughter at that, imagining Logan in full Deadpool-style monologue, breaking the fourth wall mid-fight just to complain about your teasing. “I can’t wait for that.”

“Not happening, darlin’,” Logan muttered, but his voice was warm, and the smirk playing on his lips betrayed him.

The playful banter between you felt easy, natural—like this was how it should be. No walls, no tension, just you and Logan, comfortable in the teasing, in the back-and-forth that had become the foundation of your relationship. For someone as tough and guarded as Logan, moments like these were rare, and you cherished them every time. 

As the laughter faded, the mood shifted. You were still sitting close, the air thick with something more. The lightheartedness gave way to a quiet intensity, and suddenly, the space between you felt smaller and more charged.

Your eyes flicked to his, and you found him watching you, his gaze a little softer now, a little more focused. The teasing smile on your lips faltered, but only for a moment. You leaned in slightly, just enough for your shoulder to press against his, your hand brushing against his forearm.

“You know,” you said softly, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “I wasn’t joking earlier. You really do have people falling for you left and right.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly, his voice low. “I’m not interested in ‘people.’”

There it was. That honesty, that vulnerability he rarely showed anyone. You’d gotten used to the way Logan opened up in small doses, revealing just enough for you to see through the tough exterior he wore so well. Each time, it made your heart flutter a little more.

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dropping to a whisper. “No?”

Logan shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No.”

For a moment, the room felt completely still, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. The weight of what he wasn’t saying hung between you, and you could feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you building by the second.

“Good,” you murmured, leaning in just a little closer, your breath mingling with his. “Because I’m not interested in sharing.”

A low growl rumbled in Logan’s chest, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as his other hand cupped your cheek, his rough thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Who said anything about sharing?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you closed the distance between you, your forehead resting against his. The moment stretched on, your heart racing in your chest as you waited for him to make the next move.

Then, finally, Logan closed the gap.

His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that sent heat rushing through your entire body. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was steady, intense, like Logan was savoring every second. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You kissed him back just as deeply, letting yourself get lost in the feel of him—his warmth, his strength, the way his body seemed to mold perfectly against yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your lips still hovering just inches from his. Logan rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek as his thumb traced lazy circles on your skin.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he muttered, his voice rough but affectionate.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands still clinging to his head. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to look at you. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I do.”

A Few Days Later…

The teasing between you and Logan hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Especially Wade, who had already managed to weave an elaborate tale of unrequited love between the two of you, complete with bad fanfiction-level plot twists.

“So, you guys finally make out?” Wade asked one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smug grin plastered on his face. “Or are you still in the ‘awkward pining’ stage?”

You sighed, giving him a deadpan look. “What do you think, Wade?”

Wade’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my God, it happened, didn’t it? I mean, of course, it did! I knew it! Everyone, Deadpool called it—Logan and his better half finally—”

Logan shot him a look that could kill, his claws extending just slightly. “Wade.”

Deadpool raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger! Or, in this case, the super-insightful, super-hot guy who predicted your inevitable romance. I’m just here to celebrate. Maybe I should write a poem about it.”

Logan grunted and shook his head, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Wade turned his attention to you, winking like the two of you were in on some grand scheme.

“You’re welcome, by the way. All my meddling totally paid off. You owe me one, well I guess you owe the writer of this fic but I’m totally taking credit.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “Sure, Wade. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Sleep? Who needs sleep when you’ve got love to keep you warm?” Wade sighed dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. “Honestly, I should start a matchmaking service. First Logan and you, next the world.”

Logan groaned. “Wade, shut the hell up.”

Wade grinned, unfazed as ever. “Love you too, peanut.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

There’s Something You Should Know

Pair: Dad!Joe Burrow x OC , Dad!Joe Burrow x ExFianćee!Reader

Desc: Joe’s new girlfriend is in for a big surprise when she drops by unexpectedly.

TW: Jealousy, Toxic Gf, talks of divorce, childhood trauma

a/n: just a little idea I had and worked on for 2 weeks :)

Main Masterlist

WC: 4.9k

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August weekends are some of Joe’s favorites, not because he goes out with friends or showers his girlfriend with the attention she desires. No, he loves days like this. Days where his living room doesn’t stay clean for more than a few hours, mornings filled with cute giggles and sticky-syrupy little fingers, and nights controlled by a little girl with beautiful hazel brown eyes and a head full of dark tight curls, who picks the same bedtime story every night. These are his favorite moments.

Like now as he picks up the pink and purple lego sets off his living room floor while his little girl is off playing with some other toys in her playroom. From down the hall, he can hear all the make-believe scenarios the stuffies are going through. Currently, Who Dey the tiger and Joey the kangaroo were shopping for skirts but there was only one pink sparkly one left, it was a heavy debacle that Joe couldn't help but chuckle at while putting away the rest of the legos. 

Elliana, or Ellie for short, is the no doubt most important person (albeit little person) in his life. From the day she was born, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his little girl. Now at 4 years old, the bubbly and charismatic girl is taking in some of his interests, hence the immense collection of Lego sets that decorate his home. Sure this hobby came back to bite him in the rear when he would fall to victim of said legos by stepping on them, but the time they spent together just playing around was worth all the lego injuries in the world. But they also have house slippers now, to protect both of their feet.

Joe moved to tidy up the kitchen after double checking that all legos were in their rightful spots, not that he was actually going to count every single lego. To prepare for his 4 day weekend with Ellie, he made sure to restock on all her favorite meals and snacks but also ingredients to make the Bengals-themed cookies that she hadn’t stop talking about since she saw them on a commercial for a grocery store they don’t even have in Ohio. Joe wasn’t much of a baker, he only began cooking real meals when Ellie started staying over for multiple nights. Give him a box of Kraft Mac N Cheese and some dino nuggets and he’d turn it gourmet for his daughter, but for now that’s as far as he could go. So he called in reinforcements for this mission.

*ding dong*

His saving grace, Ja’Marr Chase. Joe was forever grateful to have a best friend that loved and cared for his daughter like she was his own. Ja’Marr was a great uncle and Ellie thought so too.

“Daddy, daddy! It’s Uncle Marr, he’s here to make cookies!” He smiles as the squeaky voiced girl comes running down the hall. Before she passes the kitchen, he sneakily pulls her into his arms before she could notice him. “Daddy!”

“What did I say about running in the house? I know you’re excited but you might fall and hurt yourself and that would make daddy really sad.” He lightly scolds bending down to her height.

“I’m sorry daddy. No more running.” Ellie cutely nods and places her small hands on his cheeks to lift his faux frown.  A grin quickly returns to his face and he kisses her forehead. 

“That’s my good girl, how about you go wash your hands so you and Uncle Marr can get started?” Her face beams as she wraps her arms around his neck. He returns the hug almost as tightly to take in the warm sense of comfort that having her in his arms brings. His arms could probably wrap around the young girl twice, but the contentment of having her little ones squeezing onto him so tightly is a feelings he never wants to forget. When she finally lets go, she kisses his cheek then skips down the hall in her fluffy pink slippers.

The door bell ringing again brings Joe back to his full height, but his brows furrow when he doesn’t hear his friend do his usual call out. ‘He’s probably on the phone.’ He thinks walking over to front door. He opens the door wide with a smile to greet one of his best friends, but gets replaced with his eyes widening and mouth dropping in shock.

“Hi babe!” 

Joe blinks then narrows the door’s opening to only fit half his body. “What are you doing here?” He asks the woman he’s been seeing for 6 months.

“I thought we could spend some time together. I know you said you’d be busy this weekend, but you’re busy every weekend. But since you’re actually home, we could watch a movie or something.” She smiles trying to peak inside. “Are you going to invite me in?”

Joe can hear the faucet in the first floor bathroom turn off and another car pull into his driveway. He looks behind him and zeroes in on every detail in his house that screams ‘this is my little princess’ castle’ then turns back to his curious girlfriend. “Um, now’s not a great time Kate.”

The short brunette’s jaw clenches and just as she’s about to respond, Ja’Marr walks up behind her. “Wow- so what, Saturdays are for the boys?” She barks. Actually they’re for the girls, little girls.

“Kate-

Loud giggles erupt from behind him. “UNCLE MARR! Daddy he’s right there I see him!” 

His teammate breaks out in a smile and waves to Ellie. “Hey babygirl.” Ja’Marr excuses himself from behind the woman and Joe lets him in the house.

Kate stands in front of him now dumbfounded. “You have a daughter?”

When Joe met Katelyn, he hadn’t had a long term girlfriend in a while, not since you. So he didn’t have to introduce anyone to his daughter. His team already knew her, his friends were great with her and she had a mom and dad who would do anything for her. Joe didn’t even feel like dating after your engagement ended two years ago. He had some hookups here and there, but getting into a relationship was not on his mind. Funnily that’s how this ‘relationship’ started, she was just someone he could call and was cool about it. Then he took her out to dinner to test the waters and half a year later he’s here.

When you broke up, you and Joe agreed not introduce your daughter to anybody without the other’s consent. You both wanted to make sure that she was your priority and her safety always came first. Then Joe implemented the rule to not introduce Elliana to romantic interests until at least 9 months into the relationship, he said it was him being protective but it was also so he didn’t have to see you without anyone else until it was serious. You also didn’t broadcast your daughter to the world like other parents, so not many knew that he did have a daughter unless they watched his every move. 

So long story short, Katelyn did not know.

“We should talk.” He said as she shoved his body to the side and stomped into his home. “I guess I deserve that.” He shook his head and shut the door.

Thankfully, the kitchen and the living room were a decent distance from each other so when she plopped down on the farthest end of the sofa, he could relax knowing Ellie wouldn’t hear any distinct words the woman might start throwing his way. Kate sat facing the blank tv screen, he took the spot in front of her so he could still see some of the movements in the kitchen through a wall cut out.

“Listen Kate.”

“No me first.” She cuts him off with a hand in front of his face. He just nods and allows her to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is she actually yours? Where’s her mother? How come no one knows about her? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? I thought I was your girlfriend, do I mean nothing to you? Who keeps this kind of giant fucking secret? Fucking talk!” She huffs.

“I was letting you go off- whatever. Yes, Elliana is mine. She just looks exactly like her mother” He mumbles the last part, combing his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick he’s had since he was little.

“She’s 4 and I have dual custody over her, so I mostly get her during the weekends. I didn’t tell you because her mother and I have an arrangement and I would have to talk to her about it first. Her mom lives here- well not here here, she lives in the city. You know I don’t like the attention the spotlight gives so it was easy for us to decide to leave her out of it as much as possible. I guess was going to tell you at some point.”

“What do you mean, you guess? I’m your girlfriend! Don’t you think I have the right to know that the guy I’m seeing has a kid?” She crosses her arms red faced.

“Calm down, we haven’t been seeing each other that long. We were never that serious.” 

“Of course not, every time I want to spend time with you there’s a new excuse. Oh you have a game, or practice that evidently takes all fucking day. Maybe you’re hiding me because there’s someone else.”

“I promise the only other girl in my life right now is my daughter. And everything you just said is a valid excuse, I have a job and child that require all my attention.”

“Why can’t she just stay with her mother? Do you have this stupid arrangement so she can come by and give you what you’ve been missing? I bet you’ve been fucking her this whole time.”

Joe scoffs, her words starting to make his blood boil. “Katelyn, what do you not understand about us co-parenting our daughter? I barely have time to spend with you, so what makes you think I have time to cheat? If you have a problem with me being a father, then you should leave.”

“I don’t have a problem with you being a dad, I have a problem with you not talking about your ex. What, was she so special that it hurts to talk about her? Was she the one, Joe? What exactly is your relationship like with her now?”

“I told you, we co parent. There’s nothing going on with me and her mother, that’s all in the past. Can we stop talking about her now, she’s not going to just pop up out of nowhere?” He rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not convinced, you’d only hide her if there was still something between you.” 

“Yea her name is Elliana, the four year old making cookies in my kitchen right now.”

Before Katelyn can come back with another complaint, the doorbell rings, again. Joe sighs and looks out the window to see another very familiar car. Spoke too soon Joe.

He opens the door to see another one of his close teammates and the very woman he was just talking about. 

“Tee, Y/n what are you doing here?” His eyes lazily flicker between the pair and you send him a sheepish smile.

“Oh you know, we were just in the neighborhood.” Tee nods very nonchalantly. You nudge his side with a chuckle.

“I got a 911 call from Ellie, she said there was an emergency.” 

“Really?” He starts to pat down his pockets and realizes his phone is missing. He turns around and spots a smiling little girl with two long braids neatly done with purple bows in her hair. “Ellie…”

“Yes daddy.”

“Did you call mommy with my phone without telling me?” 

“Yep!”

You stop the laugh from bursting out your mouth when he sends you a pointed look. Taking that as a sign to go ‘confront’ your daughter. “Elliana why did you call me saying there was an emergency?

“There is an emergency momma! Uncle Jay is eating all the cookies!” Ja’Marr turns around shocked at his little partner. 

“Ellie, what did I tell you about snitches?”

“Snitches get stitches.” She relays matter factly. Joe shakes his head in confusion because clearly he wasn’t aware she knew about snitches yet. While you chuckle and run in to snatch up your girl.

“Ellie what did I tell you about taking advice from Uncle J?” You ask placing her on the counter.

“You said to tell you when he teaches me something new. He just did momma, see I told you!”

“Wow, Joe see what your friends have done to my sweet little girl.” She giggles wrapping her arms around your neck.

“They’re your friends too. How is it my fault, I had no idea?”

“There’s your answer.” You smirk. “Now Ms. Ellie Dae Burrow, is there any other emergency I need to know about?”

Freeing herself from your grasp she nods her head. “We don’t know how to ice cookies mommy.” Then takes your face in her hands and turns you towards the powdered sugar mess next to her baking buddy.

“Ellie, did you touch the cookies before touching mommy’s face?”

“Um yes?”

“Did you wash your hands after touching the cookies?” The young girl looks at her flour caked hands curiously. 

“No mommy.”

“Remember what I said about touching your toys with dirty hands?” Ellie nods her head. “Well that goes for people too, cause now I’m covered in flour.”

“Oh, sorry mommy. I’ll go wash my hands now.”

You go off to get washed up then Ellie returns to the kitchen to continue helping with the cookies while you join Joe in the living room.

“I hope you guys didn’t have anything planned, Ellie clearly has a mind of her own.” Joe jokes with the couple.

“Not much, we were just going to pick up some lunch and maybe catch a movie.” Tee shrugs.

“That’s what we were going to do, how funny.” Kate perks up with hidden mischief in her eyes. This is when you realize you have no clue where this woman came from nor who she is. 

“Joe?”

“Oh how rude of me. I’m Katelyn, Joe’s girlfriend and I assume you’re his baby mama.” She fake smiles holding her hand out.

The eyes of the men in the room widen at her bold choice of words. You smirk and shake the woman’s hand. “Yep, that’s me. The mother of his only child, you must know how great of a dad he is right? Whenever he has any time off, he’s always picking her up or coming over to see her. Truly father of the decade and she isn’t even 5 yet.”

Tee sits next the father hiding his face in his hands and chuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted this to go.” He whispers to him. Joe just groans in his hands.

“Well, you should have a seat.” Kate invites.

“Oh I will, thank you for the hospitality in the house that my ex fiance asked me my opinion on over a year ago.” You grin and sit on the other side of Tee.

Katelyn’s kind demeanor shifts with a fake smile wide on her cheeks as she sits next to Joe. “So why’d you break up?”

“We are not starting here!” Joe’s eyes go wide and he straightens up. “Ask anything else please.”

“Joseph, your girlfriend wants to know why we’re not married right now. Why don’t you tell her?” You say forgetting how the whole thing happened for a bit. Thankfully those cherished memories come floating back to your mind and you hoped he decided to change the subject to cover your mishap.

“You just met, aren’t you supposed to be doing the making sure she’s safe for Ellie to be around thing?” You let out a muted sigh before replying.

“Oh please, and you haven’t?”

“No.” He mutters.

Your face hardens as you kiss your teth. “You let this woman around my daughter without screening her first? Joseph what the hell?”

He throws his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t think it was going to last this long, I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Then why is she here?” You question turning your body completely towards him.

“Your guess is as good as mine!”

Katelyn scoffs, “excuse me, I’m sitting right here!”

“Unfortunately we see that too. How long have you been together anyway?” You hope that their explanation has to do with the restrictions you came up with to keep your daughter safe.

“7 mont-

“6 months- They say at the same time.

“Damn, this is awkward. I’m gonna go.” Tee announces. “I’ll text you.” Then he leaves.

“Looks like that didn’t last, maybe that’s why Joe left you. You attract drama everywhere you go.” Joe grimaces at her just wanting her to stop talking.

“Oh no hun, I left him. Not like it’s any of your damn business cause you don’t know me or him that well either. But let me guess, he told you he was busy but you showed up anyway hoping he’d let you in and give you whatever you want. I wouldn’t stress about him not making enough time for you, there’s a lot of worst ways he could be treating you. Just remember that at the end of the day, I’m that little girl’s mom and he’s her dad. I’ll always have a key in the door, when you won’t even get to see the open house.” Then you got up and went to the kitchen. Joe watched in amusement as Katelyn seethed. Then peaked behind him to catch a glimpse of you and your daughter baking together.

“You need to talk to her, she needs to know that I’m your future and she needs to make room.” Joe rolls his eyes.

“She’s right. They’re my past, present and my future. You were just a distraction and now I don’t need you anymore. I’m going to have to ask you need to leave my daughter’s house.” 

She shakes her head. “Joe, we can have our own family. You don’t need them. I can do that for you.”

“Katelyn I want them, not you. It’s time for you to go.” He stands and walks over to the door.

“You’re going to miss me and regret this, but I wont open the door for you. When you want me back I’ll have someone way better than you. Please don’t do this, don’t break up with me.” Rolling his eyes at the quick change in behavior he unlocks the door for her.

“Joey, I thought we were having fun. You don’t want to throw that away do you?” She asks as a final strand of hope glistens in her eyes.

Joe sighs, “it was fun, but I’d rather play with flower shop legos and bake cookies.”

“Fuck you Joe!” She stomps out with expletives shooting from her mouth. 

⍣ ೋ

“Daddy was your friend crying because you hurt her feelings?” Ellie asks with frosting covering her mouth when he arrives in the kitchen. He picks her up and kisses her sugary cheeks.

“No bub, she hurt her own feelings.” 

“Joey hurt my feelings when left to join the circus.” She pouts talking about her stuffie and licking her sticky fingers.

“Are you eating the icing before we can put it on the cookies?” He asks the orange dye covered girl.

“Nyooo.” She chuckles.

“What are we going to do with you?”

“Mommy said we’re all going to the park to feed the ducks.” She smiles. You turn around with wide eyes and an amused smirk, halting your current task of making more orange frosting.

“I did not say that. Ellie Dae why are you telling your father stories?”

“I think she wants to go feed the ducks.” Ja’Marr snorts while eating some of the cookie dough.

“Uncle Marrrr, you can’t eat more cookies! It’s for the ducks.”

“Ellie ducks don’t eat cookies.” Joe chuckles putting her on a part of the counter that’s not covered in sugar.

“Kaia said they do.” Your daughter yawns mentioning your next door neighbor’s teenage daughter that likes to babysit her.

“Well you’re going to have to ask Kaia where she found the cookies made for ducks.” Glancing over at the oven clock you hum realizing its 2pm. Naptime. Looking back over at your ex, you watch him wrap his arms around your daughter as her eyelids struggle to stay open. “Joe.” You whisper. He looks up at you then the time and nods.

“Come on babygirl, let’s go upstairs.” She whines as he lifts her, but still wraps her arms around his neck.

“But daddy, I’m not tired. Cookies.” She yawns laying her head on his chest. He smiles and kisses her head.

“I promise the cookies will be there when you wake up, and maybe we’ll even take some to the ducks.” You can’t help but smile as the pair climb the staircase up to her room. You always knew Joe would be a great father, especially when the you were surprised by the idea of having a baby so young and so early in your relationship. But he only stepped up in ways you couldn't have imagined, watching him become a father felt like one of life’s greatest privileges. It’s one of the things you love loved about him. Joe’s caring nature was unlike any other, in those 4 years together you’d never felt so loved and cherished by anyone like him.

Turning around to go back to your icing duties, you’re faced with a smirking Ja’Marr Chase. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous.” He chuckles setting a timer for the cookies that you now notice are in the oven. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You look at him the same way he looks at you, which is the exact same way when you were engaged. You just need to put the ring back on and plan the damn wedding at this point. I mean he broke up with his fling for you.”

You just shake your head at his nonsense, there was no way you and Joe would ever get back together after how it ended- after how you ended it. “No, I’m with Tee. They just had a mild disagreement, the second Ellie comes home with me he’ll be calling her back over.”

“You’re fucking with me right?” He scoffs. “You and Tee are not together.”

“How would you know?”

“He texted me the minute you got here. The only reason you two were out together was because we’re all still friends. Don’t try and bullshit me. You’ve been trying to make Joe jealous for weeks.”

“I have not, lower your voice. If you think he would ever take me back after the shit I said that night, then you’re delusional. I already fucked up with Joe.”

“But you want him to though.” He tilts his head with a soft smile. “I bet you still have the ring on you.” Your eyes go straight to the floor.

“You didn’t give it back because he wouldn’t take it. You can’t put it away because of who it reminds you of and you won’t sell it because you still care. In fact Ellie said you put it on a necklace and kept it in the smallest pocket of your purse.” When you look up, he’s somehow produced the same ring Joe proposed to you with on that beach date when Ellie was 8 months old.

“She really is a little blabber mouth.” You sniffle taking the chain.

“She’s smart and a thief. She showed it to me after you went to go clean your face. She knows how much it means to you and whether she understands it or not, she wants her mom and dad back together.”

“Oh please, this is the same little girl that wants to feed ducks sugar cookies.”

“All I’m saying is you should think about why you’re still carrying that nice ass ring around and talk to him. Alright I’m gonna head out, you got this right?” You nod and share a friendly hug.

“Remember what I said.” He says as the front door opens then shuts.

You lean over the counter with your hands on your face and let out a groan. There’s no possible way for Joe to ever take you back. You don’t even know why you still carry the ring around, but somehow leaving the house without it makes you feel untethered to reality.

“I doubt the cookies are that bad.” You gasp startled by the man leaning on the entryway to the kitchen.

“Goodness, Joe.” Your right hand covers your eyes while still clutching the gold chain. 

“Wow,” you drop your hand remembering what you were holding. “That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Yea- um. I was having it cleaned.” You bite the inside of your lip, then replace it with a pout when his face tells you he knows the full story. “Joe-

“Put it on.”

“Listen- wait what?”

You want to believe he’s joking, but the look in his eyes is all seriousness. “I want you to put the ring back on.”

“I can’t, not after the way I ended things. It wouldn’t be right.”

“You can, because I want you to. I need you to put the ring on.”

“Joe there’s something you should know.”

He sighs and takes the chain from you. “I know you and Tee hooked up once, I’m still debating on if I need to sucker punch him for it.” Then unclasps the chain and releases the 7 karat diamond into his hand. “I know that we spent the last 2 years trying to forget everything that went down between us only to remind each other every weekend when Ellie is dropped off.” He begins to fiddle with the ring between his fingers. “I also know that nothing you said that night was true.”

You gulp locking eyes with the man you’ve always wanted to call your husband. “Joe.”

“On April 10th, your mom called you and said ‘never get married’ because she had finalized her divorce with your father after spending 25 years in an unhappy marriage, that without a doubt gave you enough trauma in itself. April 11th, I came home from a night out where I drank way too much and reminded you of a part of your childhood you tried to run away from, which is something I’m extremely sorry for. April 12th, we spent the entire day arguing about the dumbest shit because I couldn’t see the pain you were harboring. Then you said ‘I can’t spend the rest of my life with a man that doesn’t care how he comes home to his family. I won’t let you run me into the mud like he did to her, I want to be happy. I can’t marry you.’ And took your ring off.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face as he recalls the last night you spent together as a couple. A night you’ve regretted since it happened.

“Joey, don’t let me do this to you. You don’t deserve this, you could do so much better better than a damaged bitch with trust issues.” With one hand he wipes your tears and with the other he takes your left hand. “Joe think about this.”

“I think there’s something you should know.” He repeats your words with a more lighthearted tone, then gets down on one knee. 

‘There’s no way, no way. Nope, he’s not doing this.’ You echo to yourself while shaking your head.

“I spent two years thinking about this. Two years driving back and forth so we could have equal time with our little girl. Two years of wondering if I’d ever have you back in my arms the way I dream of at night. Even spent one in this house thinking about how hollow it feels without you living in it. I bought it for you, so we could raise our family here together. I know this probably won’t top the first one and I don’t have a new ring yet.” He winks causing another wave of tears to fall, this time happy tears. 

“I can’t see myself happier with anyone except this damaged woman in front of me with trust issues. Shit I’m not that happy now, cause every time I look in our little girl’s eyes all I see is her beautiful mother. She’s a constant reminder of the woman I miss more than anything. I thought we could do this co-parenting thing and stay friends so Ellie could have a happy childhood, but I spend more time with you than I do without you. I don’t want to wake up with anyone else in my bed that isn’t the woman right in front of me. And I’m thanking Elliana for bringing you here, because I need you. I want you back more than anything in the world.” 

His voice starts to tremble. “I’d step on a million legos for you, bake and burn a thousand dinners for you, miss hundreds of games for you- fucking anything. Anything you want, it’s yours. Just say yes.” 

You can feel the way your heart breaks for him, just proving how much you don’t deserve him. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

You can’t look him in the eye and break him again. You try to suck in the sob but there’s no use.

“I’m pregnant with Tee’s baby.”

.

.

.

SIKE

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.

.

i'm sorry that was childish, don’t hate me lol here’s the real ending

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

“I can’t,” You giggle when his pout deepens. “You haven’t asked the question yet.”

A bright smile breaks out on his face as he sighs in relief. “You need to stop scaring me. Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes I’ll marry you, Joey. I'll marry you a hundred times if I have to.” You beam as he slips the ring back in its rightful spot then stands and pulls you into the most passionate kiss. 

After two years, you’re back in the arms you love, felt the most comfortable and cherished in. You feel so lucky to have found a man, a fiance so caring, thoughtful, and understanding. Lucky that every time you pushed him away, he just pulled you in harder. And you can’t wait to finally marry him and give him everything he’s ever wanted. Including a bigger family.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

so any critiques, comments, concerns. i'm open to any and everything🫶🏾 oh and don't forget to reblog for more :)

[notjustjavierpena]

I dont know if its Father’s day where you are but Happy Father’s day to Hubby Javi!!

Father's Day (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: It's not but he sure appreciates you reminding me! In other words, I threw this drabble together just for you. Spot a little reveal in there!

Summary: Join Hubby as father's day comes to an end.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnant reader, fluff, allusions to smut, Javier being called Daddy

Word count: 725

Father's Day

As the day is coming to an end and the weather starts cooling down outside, Javier drags his favorite garden chair into the center of the back porch so he has an overlook of the garden. He settles into the chair with a contented sigh, feeling full from the fantastic dinner you served half an hour ago, and in his hand, he twirls and rereads the card he received during his breakfast. 

It’s a handmade card full of glitter and dollops of messy glue, each of his children contributing a drawing but also a joint message telling him that they love him. Lucas has drawn a picture of them all, complete with a depiction of the growing belly on you as you carry his twin girls, while Inés has drawn a heart with a stick-figure family inside it and one of her famous butterflies. Javier’s eyes had practically sparked at the realization that even Sebastian had added his mark with a few colorful lines and squiggles.

He looks up with a smile and observes Sebastian babbling in a kiddie pool that you’ve set up next to him. His one-year-old is splashing happily in a swimming diaper, trying to figure out how things seem to stay afloat despite his efforts to drag them under the water. 

Javier’s two eldest children are playing tag on the lawn. They’re barefoot, speeding across the grass until their pant legs are covered in green stains and dirt but they look so happy as they take turns to chase each other.

Lucas pauses for a moment and decides to hide behind a bush when he sees Inés is distracted by a ladybug on one of the trees and seems to forget that she has to run from him. He pants with excitement and exhaustion at the same time, waiting patiently for her to start her search for him. 

“Got you!” He shouts triumphantly when she runs past his hiding spot, jumping out and capturing his baby sister with a grin. She squeals with laughter as she tumbles to the ground, the sound echoing through the garden and settling in Javier’s chest, warm and comforting. She regains her composure, animatedly dusts herself off like she’s seen in cartoons, and then she’s off again and Lucas adapts his speed to match her. Lucas is so good at making her feel confident and seen, Javier thinks to himself, if only he knew that being an amazing big brother is paying off because you’ve looked at a dog for his birthday in August, a two-year-old beagle from the local shelter. 

You step out onto the porch, immediately bending down to check the temperature of Sebastian’s water, and only when you’ve made sure it’s not too cold make your way to your husband. You lean down to kiss him, a hand on your pregnant belly as you do it, and Javier stretches his neck to meet your lips in a soft peck. 

In your free hand, you carry an already-opened Corona beer. You hold it out for him and he carefully sets the card down on the side table to take it from you. 

“Thanks, baby, you spoil me,” he says gently. He sits back and takes a long sip in the scorching summer heat. Then he rests the bottle on his thigh, “Still don’t think I look like him… the guy in the commercials.”

“Yes, you do. Happy Father's Day," you say fondly and kiss him once more, this time a little longer and enough for him to want to wrap his arm around your waist. 

"Thank you," he replies, placing a gentle hand on your belly instead as his eyes are filled with love for you. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

“Just wait until you realize what I have planned for later,” you tease with a knowing smile, “It’s going to be all about Daddy tonight. I’m showing you how much I appreciate everything you do for me and the kids.”

“Tell me more?” His interest is definitely piqued. 

“Not in front of the baby. It’s not appropriate,” you tease.

“Come on.”

“Use your big brain,” you laugh softly, “I’m giving you a blowjob, you idiot.”

A grin spreads across his face and while still staring into your eyes, he shouts across the garden, “C’mon, mijos (my children), it’s time for bed.”

.

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[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ Picture Perfect ♡

A/N: COMMISSION FOR MY LOVELY SUNSHINE ANON!!!! Thank you so so so much for your support and patience my love, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!!

Content/warnings: Puppy! hybrid reader x Vendetta era! Leon, 2nd person (you/yours), fem AFAB reader, reader calls Leon daddy, very grump x sunshine, lots and lots of fluff, a moment of angst and realisation but it all gets resolved :3

Word count: 7700 est. (sweet jesus)

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Leon hadn’t gone to a shelter expecting anything. An act of service, he told himself. That’s what this was. Entertaining the idea of adoption. Like people who drop loose change into charity boxes, the ones by the cash register with scuffed edges, to feel better about themselves. Right now he feels like the scuffed one. 

‘Go to the shelter,’ Chris said. ‘Hybrids make good companions,’ Chris said. He was vouching for his fellow soldiers at the BSAA, stick-up-the-butt men with trained military hounds. And judging by the posters hung on the windows outside the pet store, satisfaction was guaranteed. So he expected to enter a building of colourful lights, cheery music, and happy hybrids as far as the eye could see. Fluttering butterflies, sunshine and rainbows. Just like the commercials on tv. 

What a heap of shit. A smelly one, too. Big, steamy, stinky load of it. Those flyers were all smoke and mirrors, and let’s just say this was one hell of a broken mirror. The place reeked of bad luck. At least the stalls were cleaner than his conscience. Should he have actually done his research for this, even if it was just for appearances? It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to go looking, right? No, right. 

Leon had seen his fair share of hybrids in his time at the DSO. Missions where he took them out of labs, stopped genetic modification. Sick bastards they were, people prodding rabbits with all kinds of needles. Yeah, he enjoyed taking those types of operations down. 

But he’d also seen the ones trotting around the office on occasion. Trained to sniff out B.O.W blood, or health herbs and antibiotics. And yeah, he was intrigued. Had watched the training rounds, memorised the starting commands, noted the stiff tail and hard gaze on every breed there. So he figured he may as well take a look at the less hard-ass offers.

God, what a mistake that was.

How had the mighty fallen so far? He’d planned to walk the dusty concrete floors with pride, to look down at the row upon row of hybrids only to decide no, he did not in fact, need a pet. A companion. A friend, a lover, whatever. No rabbits, no puppies, no kitties. He was too old for this shit. He’d seen it all before, lazing black cats and bouncy bunnies. Nothing stuck out to him, he’d tried. He could at least say he tried. From then on if anyone asked why his face would sink into a frown watching his coworkers bring in their happy-go-lucky hybrids, he had an open opportunity to rub a calloused palm over the salt-sweat skin of his neck and mutter that he tried.

That’s what mattered, right? Sure, that’s what mattered. He tried. He kept that thought in mind as workers tried introducing him to some of their more ‘respectable’ species, the fluffier cat girls and boxier dog boys. None of it was for him. All of this was a lost cause. 

And then there you were. 

Next thing he knew he had the thought of you living at his house stuck in the back of his head. Not just the back, though. No you’d left handprints - pawprints - over every fissure of his brain, burrowing into the ventricles. Now you were doing two little circles before settling into his cerebrum, digging at the surface to bury down nice and deep. Maybe bury a bone there. Extra comfy. 

He’s stuck. 

You’re a cutie. Pretty as a picture. A fine should be plastered across that sweet face for even existing, a paper bag over your head. It’s a crime for anything resembling you to exist, because otherwise Leon would’ve picked up every hybrid on the street. Those puppy-dog eyes pierced right through his soul like a bullet to the chest. And he left his kevlar vest at home, too. What a mistake. 

A floppy eared thing, fluffed to the max, your tail tapping aimlessly behind you. Bored. Lonely. They kept the pup hybrids in separate kennels when the little kids weren’t here to meet them, so you were on your own. Eyes as big as saucers, he was sure they’d have popped out of your head by now like one of those squeeze toys, the ones you squish so they squeak something reedy and awful. 

Glossy. You looked dejected, sad. Hopeful yet hopeless. In his mind he saw you bounding through long green grass in the dark night, nipping at fireflies between golden giggles. Watching you paw at the sky aimlessly, beckoning upon lightning bugs so you might try and ‘accidentally’ catch one in your mouth. You were made to be loved by someone.

It hurt. In a way you reminded him of his younger self. That cop, once bright eyed and bushy tailed, now decaying and withering into the husk of a human he was now. The one that burned down with the rest of whatever was left of Raccoon City.

And yeah, he wasn’t proud of this shelter specifically being his only pick of the bunch, there were hundreds he could’ve picked from. But this was a boot-out shelter, AKA they only hold onto hybrids for so long before kicking them to the curb. Just the thought of you, your fluffy self out on the streets..

He couldn’t let that happen to you.

And then those wet eyes fell on him and your tail swished quicker, your ears perking. Like a heartbeat picking up, a skipping pulse. You’re playing jump rope with the veins to his heart, his BPM’s music to those fuzzy ears. And that tail? Oh it’s swaying to the beat.

Something in your body seemed to click at the sight of him. It was an instinct, a switch flicking in your puppy brain. If he were in a movie this would be the part where time slows down and the camera focuses on his face and your own, panoramic view of the environment you both found yourselves in. Your face behind the bars, slowly shuffling your way towards him in curiosity. 

That’s when he knew he had to take you home. Surely he was a better choice than the other scum that might get a hold of a soft thing like you. And you seemed sweet. So it was settled.

The paperwork was easy enough. Signing on dotted lines, signatures to his left and right. Handing over his credit card for the chance at ‘friendship’ or something like that. The only thing he truly recalled was leaving with you in the backseat, curled up against the car cushions. 

Change. That’s what this would be.

You were well behaved. Quiet, too. At first anyway. Leon’s whole life had been thrown into disarray and all he had to do was give his credentials to some lady with a blurry nametag, confirm he wasn’t a psycho murderer or trying to Cruella DeVille you for your ears and tail. Which he absolutely didn’t have the time for, so no need to worry about that factor.

It only took a few hours for his house to be filled to the brim with new puppy gear. Collars and leashes of different colours (he couldn’t decide on those), squeaky toys and stuffed animals, comfy clothing, food and water bowls, and of course one of those playpens to lock up overnight. Leon wasn’t entirely educated on how to take care of you. Was he supposed to get you a room, a proper bed? How human was he supposed to treat you? 

The overall adjustment period was fast, for you anyway. Sure, at first you’d gone all timid when he brought you home, staring up at this well-built, shaggy man in a leather jacket like he was about to lock you in your cage forever. Might be a poacher, your brain scrambled together, or one of those mill owners. Yeah, he looked the type. But as soon as you heard him whisper a “Well hey there, sweetheart,” in your direction in hopes of coaxing you out of the backseat you were set and smitten. And in case he was still hesitant, you gave him a pretty clear giveaway on how you felt. After he’d set up your cage in the living room, packed full of blankets and pillows atop your pet bed, and watched you practically dolphin dive into the sea of plush, it became clear you were truly just happy to have a home. You were happy to be with him. 

Not like you spent many days in that puppy bed anyway, it only took a few days for you to come whimpering at Leon's feet in the night to climb under the blankets with him. And of course, he caved. How strong could you expect a man to be? Not to mention the stuffed toys you brought with you every time you hopped up, he’d become familiarised with all their names by the third week. 

Sure, it’d been tough for Leon in some areas, but in some ways it was also easy. You brought solace where you went, and you knew better than to overstep boundaries. He found out quick enough that you didn’t entirely know what to address him as, ‘Leon’ felt strange for some gut reasons but ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ were too formal, so you immediately leapt to daddy. Which, of course, caught him horrendously off-guard. Almost sent him into cardiac arrest the first time you yipped it in his direction, a plaque of cholesterol, fat, and an unbelievable amount of cuteness clogging his arteries. 

The worst part? After a few days he found himself enjoying it. Had his heart fluttering when you giggled it out as he ruffled your ears, rolling onto your back as he gave your belly an affectionate rub. Was he sick for liking it? Sure. He needed a doctor, stat. Symptoms included being extra ready to get home from work, planning his meals more thoroughly, and catching himself daydreaming more than usual. The diagnosis was a fluffy tailed sunshine puppy who trotted around behind him 24/7. A sweet shadow, a nosy thing. Prescribed treatment? Lots of cuddles, apparently. Cuddles, and plenty of daily shenanigans.

On one particular day he caught sight of you padding through the hallway slowly, looking up at all the photos he had hung upon the walls. Drinks with Claire and Chris on his birthday where he (begrudgingly) attended the surprise party they’d set up. Standing in the Whitehouse with some old man in a fancy suit. An old picture of just him sat atop the table below it all, his graduation photo from the police academy. He didn’t have the heart to throw it out. That was merely one of many old-news trinkets scattered around the house, objects that told a mixed story of Leon Kennedy. Well, now it was the house of Leon Kennedy and his puppy girl.

With a soft thud you sat your cute butt down on the floorboards to simply.. Stare. Examine, memorise, imagine what it was all like. 

Maybe his hair was softer in this photo, shaggier in that. Darker features and rougher around the edges, as if someone had switched from watercolour to graphite, defining his jaw. More stubbled and strong now, with a broader frame. Like watching a tree trunk even out, sprouting tough branches, leaves coming to fall over his eyes in bangs. He needed a haircut soon. 

However, in that moment of watching you, he knew he’d made the right decision. He saw it in the way the silhouette of your tail swished in interest, how your flopped ears perked up an inch whenever you focused on the finer details. Most of all he loved that signature puppy head-tilt. He got one of those whenever you didn’t understand what he was saying, be that garble about his work or the lulled out words from whatever book he read to you as you laid in his lap.

Yes, you laid in his lap now. And it was starting to feel so normal to him. The wagging tail in his peripheral vision, your eyes peeking up at his desk in his study. It all came so naturally, including the moments of chaos. One of which was the messy dance of getting you bathed, or dressed.

Baths. God, you stood your ground on baths. As soon as you heard the pipes squeal you took off like a rocket. Zoomed past the potted plants, darting through the backdoor if you could make it in time. Leon had to scoop you up mid-sprint as you wriggled and squeaked to get out of his hold, and shit did you run fast when you felt like it. Oh sure, you dragged your feet to snails-pace when you had to leave the park, but suddenly his puppy had the legs of a trackstar when it was bathtime. Once he actually had you in the warm water it was a whole other thing. You just couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Thank god for bath toys, or else you’d spend every second giving your flapping ears and soaked hair the signature wet dog shake. He turned his back? Shake. Reached for the shampoo? Shake. Went to turn the faucet on? Shake. He’d honestly rather you do that than try to jump out, and at least you got extra comfy with him when it came time to towel dry you. The last time he tried the hairdryer method you’d snapped and barked at the hot air like it was a personal affront, as if the loud hum was cursing you out in its own fan-whirring way. Then came the clothes.

On a good day he could wrangle you into a shirt of some kind (usually one of his own) and a pair of fluffy shorts with a hole in the back for your tail. On other days it was a tug-of-war fight over a v-neck because it’s obviously an invitation to play and growl between giggles and not Leon seriously begging a quiet “Baby- honey, no- Please, sweetheart, Chris is coming over and you can’t be butt naked, listen to daddy-”. Sometimes he really thought those floppy ears were just painted on. God, you were a little menace.

Luckily you were also adorable. Sure, a little dull, but so damn sweet. He couldn’t count how many times he’d pretend to throw a ball, watching you go sprinting out across the floorboards, slipping in your socks, in desperate search for it. Then it’s the head tilt, a routine trot around the coffee table, and sitting in the hall with a quiet whine. Vanished, poof, thin air. Gone.  Not to worry, cause soon Leon calls out an ‘Oh look!’ and the ball has magically teleported back into his hand to your shock and awe. Pawing at his hand and begging him to explain how on earth he learned such witchcraft. 

But there were a few things that threw him off guard about you, even after settling into this routine. For starters, your face. He didn’t mean that in a harmful way, he promises. Cross his heart and all that. But you were just so… gentle. Bright. Sometimes he found himself squinting at the sheer shine of you. Made him wonder if you came with batteries that just never got removed, corroded into place after years of chasing your own tail. Stuck on this constant sunshiney state with no way to power down. 

And you were manufactured in some lab, a biological anomaly even he couldn’t wrap his head around. A person who wasn’t whole and yet was so much more than that. You contained multitudes, brought life and colour in ways those others may see a ‘normal’ never could. The pitch of your bark, your hatred - and he meant hatred - of squirrels, how fast you leapt at the opportunity for a ride in the car. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was proud to be the one to bring you home. That he was the one to trace the curves of your hand, to rub your ears, to hold you in his lap while watching late-night tv. This was good for him. This was good for both of you.

Day after day he found himself adoring you in a new way. A week ago he’d have dropped his head in his hands at the sight of you nosing his morning slippers towards his feet in the wee hours of the morning, now he can’t help but smile sleepily. Lopsided and scratchy from his beard. Because despite the energy threatening to burst from your body, you still took the time to sit and wait for him to get up. 

He was a weak man now. A trained government agent was trailing behind his puppy girl in a pet store as you insisted on getting specifically that bunny with those ears cause it looked like the one that ran outside the living room window every day. And he listened to every ramble about said rabbit as you trotted to the cash register, plushie in mouth.

He’d fallen. Hard. 

Time had passed in the blink of an eye before either of you could process it. Seasons blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, and soon enough Leon found himself with a cuddle buddy more often than he did an empty bed. The feeling of your nose nuzzled into his shirt, strings of happy whimpers and whines mumbled from your sleepy lips, it all became his white noise. You’d made very quick friends with the sprinklers out in the yard by the time summer had rolled around, jumping back and forth over the swinging water in an attempt to catch it in your mouth. All Leon had to do was sit on the porch and watch in adoration.

What you both seemed to adore much less was when Leon left for work. It had you pawing at the windows with screeching nails, teary eyed and howling when he got home extra late. He didn’t have the heart to lock you up when he left, something about it made his chest strain. His poor girl, stuck in her little blanket cave, wondering where her daddy went. Pawing aimlessly at the wired frame, chewing on the gate between whimpers. He couldn’t bear the thought. It ached, in fact. You were hurting his heart without even doing anything.

But the past four days had been a nightmare. His first long term assignment since adopting you. Sure, Claire and Chris had done their best to entertain you since you couldn’t just be left home alone, plenty of toys and games and walks, but it just wasn’t it. You’d pace in little circles, whining and crying and crying and whining. Hours spent drying your tears with cooing and shushing from the Redfield siblings only to burst the pipes and sob some more. It was no use. Until he came back.

And now he had. After so many days (a million, you’d told Claire) without him, he was home. 

The sound of his motorcycle - that he’d retired from everything other than work for obvious reasons, vis-à-vis your sensitive ears - was a dead giveaway, and soon enough you had your cheeks squished up against the front window yapping away till your vocal cords strained. God, wasn’t that a sight. Face lifted into a glowing grin, ear perked up, tail a wagging mess. You looked like a whirlwind had been stuffed down into a body, and you were ready to tear through his home. An oh so dangerous fuzzy tornado on the hunt for endless snuggles and belly rubs to swallow up, up, up into your cyclone of love. 

You were gorgeous. You were adorable. You were everything he didn’t know he needed. He’d hardly stepped foot in the house and you were already jumping up to try and kiss and lick at his face with a thousand puppy kisses, tail wagging so fast you might just take flight. Like one of those cartoon dogs from those 80’s shows, ones Leon still can’t name to this day. That was the other good thing about all of this, you made him laugh. Chuckling hoarsely as he pushed past the door only to be met with your arms wrapped around him excitedly. 

“Daddy, you’re back! You’re home! I missed you!” Yip, yip, bark. You were melting his heart, almost running yourself into the wall at the sheer buzz of excitement thrumming through your body. 

Oh, how he’d missed you, rubbing that tender spot between your ears with a kiss to your hair. 

You’d made him soft. A side of him he never knew existed came out when he got you.

“I missed you too, pup.” He could only shake his head with a tired grin, dropping his bag at the door by the coat rack and shoe cubby. He’d had to buy one since you’d developed the habit of stealing his slippers to use as makeshift mittens. “Be careful where you’re walking there, honey.”

You were too busy babbling away about everything you’d done while he was gone to hear him properly, from playing a gazillion games of fetch to daily trips to the park. How that chipmunk had purposely ticked you off so you pawed at a tree trunk yapping at it for a good 5 minutes. And of course, how you’d almost managed to finally catch your tail. Looking up at him with so much pure puppy love with every step you took backwards through the hallway with a quickly wagging tail. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, you’d just missed him too much. 

That tail of yours though, it was out of control. Swish, swish, wag, sway. Mind of its own. Too happy to have your daddy home to focus on anything else. Pure puppy love. 

During your ramblings as Leon slowly worked at his shoelaces and zipper, all you could do was emphasise how happy you were that Chris had caved and let you visit the cafe downtown. Whilst mid explanation about what a ‘puppuccino’ was and how spectacular it tasted, the sudden smack of your fur against glass had you jumping in surprise. It seemed you’d collided with something in the midst of your excitement. The impact was followed by a loud crack, one that had Leon’s head pulling up to a swift stillness, no longer worried about getting his boots off. 

“What was that?”

There’s a concoction of emotions in his voice. A cocktail of worry, concern, and an off sternness. He’s hardly ever been stern with you. The last time he had been, the sad look on your face had him faltering. Usually he was so comfortable with being stern, it flowed freely through his body like the familiar warmth of whiskey. It was something he was so used to. But he wasn’t used to those glossy eyes tearing up at him. He was just a man, after all. And you were his puppy. 

That thought seemed to elude you both right now though, jolting to step away from the broken picture frame, looking down at the damage you’d done.

“Pup, are you-”

His academy graduation photo. You’d smacked it with your tail, and the frame had snapped.

All the colour drained from Leon’s face in one fell swoop. His calm, tired gaze ripped wide into one of shock, kicking his shoes into the shelves with a harsh thud.

“No- no no, no- shit!” His voice was a boom, it was loud and uncontrollable. Shaking the plaster of the walls with rolling thunder, his eyes zeroed in on the shattered glass, lightning crackling behind stormy blue eyes. Usually they looked so clear. Usually he was clear, his intentions and his love, how he was trying to and learning to get used to this life. And for a while he really was. “Goddamnit!”

And then this happened. 

And it was scary. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it frightened you. A dead giveaway was how your ears flattened against your hair, once wagging tail now dead still and tucked between your legs. You’re cowering. 

You were afraid. 

But Leon didn’t notice. No, this was the end of a short fuse after a long week of work. A flame to the stick of dynamite Leon Scott Kennedy sometimes found himself to be. This was not what he wanted to come home to. He was too busy pulling at his hair in a nostalgic wave of guilt, of horror clawing up his back, staring at the mess.

The mess you’d made.

Cracked fingers pick at the shattered glass in hopes of salvaging what he could, the sharp edges slicing at the flesh that had grown tender with your touch. 

You’d made him soft.

Had that been a mistake?

It must have been with the way he flinched back, cursing under his breath. Shards of the frame bit at his fingers as if in anger, snapping dogs of his past. Not like his pup, not like his sweet girl curled up in the corner, wondering if this meant he hated her.

That wasn’t the worst part.

Right across the top corner of the photo the paper had been scratched, ripped by a stray piece of glass. Slicing through the date he’d graduated. The day he thought everything was going to start getting better way back when. The sight had his whole body frozen in place. Bracing for something to happen, because something always happened to him. The feeling building from his belly to his chest, from his chest to his eyes. It was sickeningly familiar. It was a bullet to Leon’s shoulder. It was the click of a lighter to a cigarette. The screams from an Eastern European church. His bloodied fists against Arias’ face. The mole in his unit.

It was the gunshot that ripped through his family home. 

That’s what really set him off.

“This was the one thing I had from it all, this was it! The one good thing!” Rambling like a mad man, someone you’d watch talk to himself on the sidewalk late into the night. “And it was in such- such good condition. It was perfect. It was all perfect before you- Damn it, pup, why couldn’t you-”

By the time he’d finally turned to you, his words screeched to a halt. Brakes squealing at the velocity of such a hit, a surprise, he could feel his heart overturn. Rolling haphazardly down the highway. He couldn’t stop it, because he caused it. He caused such an accident. So busy running on empty thanks to work that the dried out tank had crushed beneath his feet, crunching steel caving so easily. Weak. You were weak for him. He was just only seeing it now.

He’d hurt your feelings, whether he meant to or not. Over an accident, no less.

He was the reason your body was quaking in fits similar to that of a leaf atop frozen winds. Why your eyes were shot open, glossy and round, like the first cracks in the icy pond at your favourite park making way for water. And you looked like you’d plunged through the surface. 

Maybe the most awful detail of all was the fact that Leon simply didn’t know what to say to make this better.

Licking over his chapped lips, the air in his lungs seemed to dissipate. He was left breathless, and not in the way he usually liked to be. Not like when he watched you pick at the dandelions in the backyard, or when you chased your tail in circles to the point of dizziness. Someone had trapped him in a vacuum of consequences, leaving him to face them. To face you, you and those big puppy-dog eyes threatening to flood with tears. “Look I didn’t- Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like-”

It wasn’t working. His words were getting caught in his throat, pulling a tense cough from his chest. As if the answer was teasingly scratching at his vocal chords and no amount of water could wash it away. He could feel his chest tighten, any trace of anger or frustration being flushed from his system. Now he could think clearly. He could see how heartbroken you were.

The biggest giveaway was how your body leaned in the direction of the living room without thinking, braced on your toes. An instinct dug deep beneath those layers of fuzz and the warmth of your hand in his own. Something to be left untouched, like a toy you’d buried in the backyard, under pile after pile of soil and past traumas. 

Now Leon had dirt on his hands. The clouds in that stormy blue seemed to clear out, the moonlight streaming through the window like a lighthouse reflection. He was seeking you out, trying to let you know it was clear. That you were safe.

It just wasn’t enough.

“Hey.. Hey, no. Honey-

It was no use. He’d blinked and you were gone, left with the echo of your sock-clad footfalls against hardwood floors. Every step beating in unison with his pulse, his ears rang to the rhythm of your rushed breaths. Now you were the one pulling him along on a leash. Tugging at the weak retractable cords of his heartstrings, you’ve wrapped him around a tree once, twice, three times. His head was spinning, a splitting heat sizzling in his frontal lobe frying the edges of his mind until they curled. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, smearing the guilt from cheek to cheek, up to his forehead. He was swimming in that grief. Mourning a time before this one, praying for a reset button. You had such a way of turning him inside out without knowing it, pulling his muscles and bone up from his anatomy to gnaw affectionately on his femur and nip at his biceps. He barely hid anything from you, he never felt the need to. Who were you going to tell? The mosquitos you stalked after with a batting tail in the cooler summer nights? Please. And half the time you didn’t really understand what was going on, anyway. So there was no harm in letting you lay your head in his lap while lounging on the couch, his voice a deep lullaby soothing you to sleep, aimlessly tapping your tail against the cushions. You were so pure. You didn’t mean any harm, you never did. Leon wasn’t sure you had one malicious bone in that cute body of yours. 

How was he supposed to approach this, though? This had been the first major incident in your white-picket-fence-esque lifestyle. Did he go upstairs and change out of clothes dusted in gunpowder and shame? Try with a clean state so you had some time to yourself, some space? Is that what you wanted?

No. No, knowing your usually chipper clingy self that was probably the last thing you wanted. So he manned up, got his shit together. An unusual thing for him to say about himself, but he was in an unusual situation.

After shrugging his leather jacket off and leaving it to hang on the coat rack, he swore to leave his aggression with it. Tucked into the pockets and zipped tight, so he might save it for his next mission. There was no use in bringing shit like that into his home, where his girl was. So he’d let it gather like lint until the next time he washed it, then he’d let his conscience run through a spin cycle; in which he meant watching you do three little spins before settling into bed. You were better than any washing detergent, cleaned his slate better than disinfectant. They should sell your personality in stores, bottle your giggles for junkies to get hits off. You could be the next meth with how happy you made him, had him flying high as a kite.  

And he’d made you so sad. He was your daddy, it was his job to keep you safe, not sad. Now he had to fix that.

Your playpen. It was a puppy’s dream to get the luxuries you did, most likely. Leon couldn’t help but spoil you with everything soft, plush and velvet. It matched you. And watching you lay in front of the window, squeaky toy mid squeal lodged between your jaws lazily, was worth all the money in the world to him. Everything you did drove him nuts, he was starting to realise why so many people suggested getting a hybrid. Leon hadn’t understood what the deal was until you arrived. And now? Oh, he needed a lobotomy at this rate, because all he could think of was you. Work? You. Driving? You. Hell, his breaktime at the office made him miss the way you’d yell ‘Are you doneeeeee?’ at him from down the hall, awaiting your allocated cuddle time. You had him chasing his own tail, and he didn’t even have one.

Draped in a paw-print blanket and stuffed full of toys, the sides of your food and water bowl lovingly chewed on. Always sinking those canines into whatever you could. Well, whatever you could that wasn’t out of the question. Shoes were a big no no, the sprinkler system too, Leon was sure to make that clear. Not like the water tasted any good from it, anyway. 

With a quiet grunt (he really wasn’t getting any younger) he slowly kneeled down, denim brushing over varnished wood, peeking through the open gate of your pen. Despite having both feet on the ground - well, rather two knees - this still felt risky to him. Not like disarming a bomb, more like negotiating a hostage situation. Taking your hand in his own to lead you away from himself.

He kept his voice soft, quiet, as gentle as someone of Leon’s stature and nature could be. Like asking a wolf to hide its fangs, but he did his best.

“Hi there, darlin’.” 

He always did his best with you.

Well, almost always.

No answer. Just the sound of your meek panting, sniffling between breaths. Tears making every inhale salty in your nose and on your tongue. You always preferred it sweeter. He hated being the reason your mouth felt off, watching you run your pink tongue along your cheeks as if trying to get the taste out. At least you were still awake. Amidst the darkness of your cage he could see you buried under a mountain of blankets, digging yourself in like a tick. Head burrowed in tight, he felt like even if he tried to gently coax you out by the body you’d keep shuffling along into the plush. He’d have to stop this from the root, twist and pop you out gently. So he tried that with words. 

“You wanna come out of your little cave there?”

The brief whimper that passed your lips was enough of an answer for him, no words had to be spoken for him to catch on. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair enough. Daddy was a bit of a dick, huh?”

The slight movement under piles of pink and yellow told him your tail was wagging, and that made his heart hurt even more. It was bleeding through his shirt at this point, darlin’. Don’t do that to him, he’s too old to deal with this kind of pain. Might just kill him one of these days. Because even after he’d snapped at you, broken down the walls of trust you’d both spent months building, you were still reaching out to place a new brick down. To keep it all from crumbling. Leon rested his palms on the scuffed denim of his jeans. Sure, he’d done his schooling, graduated and all that, but now he found himself searching the corners of his mind for the right words. Like he was putting a puzzle together, trying to piece syllable to noun to verb until they clicked. But they didn’t exactly click. Then again, nothing ever did with Leon. 

Except you.

“I didn’t.. Mean what I said. I just cut myself off at the worst time possible. I wasn’t thinking. Da-” he paused himself for a moment. Fuck, it’d become a bad habit. Was it still okay to call himself something like that in this kind of situation? “I’m not very good with words. M’ better with actions, y’know. Making things, helping people. I’m not exactly a wordsmith here, darlin’.” 

There was a rustle. In the darkness of your pillows and blankets you found room to move. And he could tell it was closer to him from how the pile slouched in his direction, indicating the shifting of your body. You looked a bit like a molerat to be honest, an adorable one, or one of those prairie dogs, with the way your head makes an evident dent in the covers. He wouldn’t tell you that, though. Might take it the wrong way. 

Out pops your fluffy ears, the silhouette of your tearful face. His stoic demeanour over the years shatters like that same photo frame, how the hallway’s dim lighting catches in your glossy eyes. It’s like looking at the moon in all her solemn sadness, amongst the stars, alone.

He can’t leave you like that. 

“Hi, baby.” It’s a whisper. He’s too scared if he talks any louder you’ll huddle back up. He never wants to make you worried, or frightened, or anything really. He loves you just the way you are.

“Hi..”

Leon had no idea how much he’d missed that voice until he heard it for the first time after a long lonesome 20 minutes of silence. It’s an icepick to his frozen mind, chipping away those worries he had of you maybe never talking to him again. You were a sweet thing, but also sensitive. It was part of the reason he cared for you so deeply. You’d dug down under his skin, doggy-paddled through his blood stream and settled comfortably right on his heart. 

“..Are you gonna, y’know,” Through the dark haze of shadows and soft rain against the windows, he could see you fiddling with your fingers. You’re nervous. Voice small and isolated, muffled through your soundproofing of comfy blankets and soft stuffies. It only made his head ache more. “Take me back?”

That one threw him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question, if anything he thought you’d ask if you were still in trouble. “Back? Back where?”

“..The shelter.”

He couldn’t see his own face, but he could just imagine how it twisted in confusion. “What? No, darlin’.” 

“Oh..”

Yeah. Oh. So that’s what all of this had been about. It wasn’t just him yelling, it was the thought that you might get boxed up and shipped back. Kicked to the curb. Leon pictured it again, your shivering frame on the street, or back in that damp kennel surrounded by yelling dogs and strict meal times. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Cause I broke something, and I was too rowdy.. I can’t sit still..”

The very reason he’d adopted you in the first place was to save you from that life, one of struggle and pain and sadness, yet you still feared it. Solely for, what, acting like a puppy? The very thing you were a hybrid of? If he weren’t so worried about you he’d be pissed at the world in all honesty.

“Baby, is that how you ended up there? Did someone..” He had no time to finish that question before you were nodding. You looked so ashamed, it ripped him in two. Someone had shoved his heart through a paper shredder and used the strips to line a hybrid play-pen floor. 

Returned, handed off, a hand-me-down. That’s what you saw yourself as. Damaged goods. His voice cracked as he muttered softly, his face painted in nothing but sympathy. “Oh, puppy..”

Almost instantly a ball of fluff came barrelling out of the playpen right into Leon’s chest, a winded ‘oof!’ puffed from the man’s ribs. Could’ve cracked them with the force of your love. Softer than any cannon ball, fuzzier than any bullet. Yet you still managed to have him coughing out a chuckle, his nose nuzzling up into your hair. He couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Because it was a sure sign that you didn’t hate him.

“There’s my girl.”

A meek whine bubbled up from your throat at the sheer joy of being back in your owner’s embrace, enveloped in his comforting smell. And Leon couldn’t resist resting his chin on your head as you sat crumpled in his lap. A scarred-over hand brushing through your hair, rubbing bruised thumbs over the soft velvet of your ears. Every touch, every loving gesture had your tail whipping against the floorboards. You truly were his good girl. Still sniffling, you tilted your head in that sweet puppy way to look at him properly, taking in the face of the man who you loved more than anything; yes, that included treats, walks, and toys. It was quite the accomplishment, an honour really. Leon should be proud of himself for that one. 

“M’ sorry..”

There it was again, always saying sorry for things you didn’t mean to cause. Sometimes things you didn't even do. He shook his head at even the thought of that. Not scolding, but shushing. Like he didn’t want to hear you apologise for something that was hardly your fault. “Sweetheart, hey. It’s alright. I can always get a new picture frame, it’s no problem. What I can’t get is a new puppy. Wanna know why?”

Of course you did, that was a silly question. But he loved watching your ears flop as you nodded, made his pulse flutter like he had a butterfly in his veins, or a hummingbird. Humming away to the steady thrum picking up in pace. “Cause there’s only one you. And frankly, I’ve already called dibs, so I’m not givin’ you up for anything.”

That seemed to settle something in you, the pace of your tail picking up to its regular happy thump. Large hands encased either side of your head to brush over your fluffy ears, the velvety texture smooth under years of scarred tissue. And that fresh cut he had yet to bandage up. That could be done later, though. Right now he was more focused on plastering a hello-kitty bandaid over your heart. Leon was bad at this stuff, real bad. If there was a class for hybrid owner’s he’d have been expelled in seconds, set a new world record. Because even after having you with him for months he had to admit, he still had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to make that clear, no point in lying to you.

Gravelly voice turned smooth and soft, someone had put his whiskey rocks through a blender. He was a slushy now because of you. A messy, overpriced, alcoholic slushy. 

 “But I wanna try my hardest to make you feel loved here. Because believe me, you are. You and all your.. Energy, let’s say. You’re my fluff ball, aren’t ya?”

He doesn’t need words, words aren’t a strong suit for either of you. So he settled for the affectionate lick to the cheek you gave him, followed by your high pitched whine when you snuggled down into his lap with wiggling hips. Makes a huff of laughter rumble from his chest, not like the thunderous yelling you once heard. This was that of a car’s slow movement, of white noise to sleep.

Because at the end of the day you were each other’s peace. 

Lips press to your hair in a gentle manner, and Leon found himself nuzzling his nose down against your own.

 “Yeah you are. You’re daddy’s best girl.”

It’s a balm for the wounds on your soul, settling into his arms like you were made for them. Manufactured with his name printed across your heart where no-one could see it, you’d just had to find him. And now you had, and he had no intention of letting you go. If he could, he’d velcro you to his body.  

Yeah, Leon swore he’d never let you go.

And he might be a bastard at times, but he made good on his promises.

The next week you were walking past the hall of photos, the one Leon commissioned of you and him out in the backyard was already hung. The outtakes of you sprinting off to chase a squirrel mid-shutter are his to keep tucked in his wallet, though. For the longer work days or boring lines at the DMV, all that shit. 

 But the formal one, the proper one, is right above the new frame you insisted on decorating for his graduation photo. Complete with smiley stickers and paint and hearts he’d carefully exacto-knifed around to give a clear view of his picture. You’d jumped around like a bouncy ball when he was cutting the excess sticky paper away, little yaps of ‘Is it done?! Is it finished?! Can I see it?!’ like you hadn’t been the one to seal it in glitter glue in the first place. 

And honestly, he loved it. Like you were leaving your pawprints on his past, making a new path of swaying tails and giggling fits to lead him with a tugging leash into his brighter future. Like you were meeting an older version of him. One before he became a little more bruised, a little more cold. But you’d helped chip that down with your tugging paws and cute canines.

He was softer now. And he’d decided yes, that was a good thing. Meant he was more suited for you, more tender with you. 

“C’mon, babygirl. Wanna go for a walk?” He already knows the answer. But watching you skitter on your feet to sprint towards him never gets old. Wagging tail and voice chirping.

“Can we get a pup cup on the way back? Please?”

Because if that freshly appointed rookie cop version of Leon could meet you, he’d be just as in love with you as he is right now. 

“Aw I’m not made of stone now, am I sweetheart?”

And he’d agree, that new frame looks much better.

Consider buying me boba!

[storiesforallfandoms]

just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you  expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

[togrowoldinv]

Cheeseburgers

Brie Larson x Reader

When you accompany Brie to an award show, your feelings for her are revealed

Note: First Brie fic yay! This is a fluffy little something. I hope y’all enjoy!

Main Masterlist

When the door opens, your breath catches in your throat. Standing in front of you is the most beautiful woman in the world. You know for sure that you’re in love with her.

But she is only your best friend.

“So, what do you think?” Brie asks you. She steps closer to you and spins so you can get a full view of her outfit.

“You are so beautiful,” you tell her. She smiles so wide that her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you, y/n. I’m so glad you’re coming with me tonight.”  

Her hair and makeup artists get to work on her again, and she ushers you to get dressed. It isn’t the first event Brie has taken you to, but it is definitely the most dressed-up you have gotten. You wear colors that match her perfectly.

Once you’re both ready to go, you ride in the car with her. Brie talks your head off about the evening that’s coming up. She tells you that she’s most excited about getting a cheeseburger afterward. That makes you chuckle.

“Are you ready?” Brie asks when the car stops.

“Oh, I thought I would be going in a different way,” you reply. She usually goes on the carpet without you.

“I want you to come with me. Please?”

You say yes. As if you could ever say no to her and that precious pouty face she makes when she wants something.

The red carpet is a bit overwhelming, but Brie keeps her hand in yours as long as she can. It feels so natural. You wonder if she feels it, too.

She does her photos and interviews flawlessly, as always. You watch on in awe. Once inside, you settle at your table. You make small talk with the other people. Brie is a natural at captivating everyone. She reunites with some old castmates.

When it comes time for her category, she reaches for your hand under the table.

“You’re going to win,” you whisper to her.

It’s not about the awards, but you know she secretly hopes she will win. When the camera pans to her, she offers a shy smile. The presenters open the envelope and call her name.

“Yes!” You cheer, being the first to stand up. Brie hugs you, and you kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

She shares a few more hugs on her way to the stage as the applause erupts all throughout the building.

“Thank you,” Brie says, taking the award into her hands. “Wow, I didn’t prepare a speech, but I will wing it.” She continues on to give an amazing speech, not to your surprise. She has always been a natural speaker.

“And thank you to my amazing friends and family. Especially my y/n. I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” she finishes.

The crowd cheers for her again. You can’t help but tear up at how proud of her you are. She takes photos backstage before she comes back to the table.

You greet her with a huge hug. Even bigger than the one before. She hugs you so tight that you can barely breathe.

“I’m so proud of you, Brie,” you tell her again.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking a little.

“Are you alright?” You ask her.

She pulls away from the hug just enough to look you in the eye. You hold her face in your hands, and she sees the way you care for her in your eyes. You feel like the only two people in the room.

“Y/n,” Brie begins.

You interrupt her with a kiss to her lips. She kisses you back, her hand finding a way to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You’re both smiling so much that you have to stop kissing.

“I love you,” Brie says.

“I love you, Brie. I always have,” you reply.

Brie kisses you again before you two come back to reality. The commercial break is over, and you have to sit down. You hold her hand under the table for the rest of the night.

When the night is almost over, Brie gets her cheeseburger that she’s been waiting for.

“Still the best part of the night?” You ask her.

“No,” she says. Brie kisses your lips softly, but she lingers long enough that you want to chase after her for more. “That’s the best part.”

“I agree, sweetheart.”

“Come home with me?” She asks, a glint in her eye.

You take her hand and leave the awards show together. After parties are the last thing on your mind. You just want to spend the night with the most beautiful girl in the world.

She is finally yours.

[andrea-lyn]

Master Rec Post - Interview with the Vampire

well, it was inevitable, wasn't it? fourteen recs below for IWTV, primarily Armand/Daniel (any additions will be marked *NEW* in the future)

rock me like the rock of ages by exastris_scientia

The bathroom is the nastiest place Daniel has ever set foot in. Nothing but the word derelict comes to mind when he shuts the door, but not all the way because the hinges are sticky and squeak like hell when he moves the door, and he doesn’t want to get trapped in here and need Louis to come rescue him. Two of Daniel's personal interludes with Louis and Armand during the first interview, 1973. Any conclusions he reaches, he keeps to himself.

no devils evict themselves to the point of permanence by JanuaryWonder

Armand vowed not to listen in on Daniel's thoughts when he came to Dubai, but some still seep through the crevices in the wall he's erected around his mind. Or, the one in which Daniel remembers bits and pieces of a Devil's Minon-esque history with Armand and decisions need to be made, written from Armand's POV.

Bumblebee Mouth by Voidfavors

The rising sun bestowed him with a halo, and Daniel had to wonder about Armand’s flair for the dramatic. The spectacle he created was enough to make Daniel’s heart skip a beat. An attempt to bridge the gap between Devil's Minion and the AMC canon.

platform double suede by inthebelltower

Armand and Daniel pick up a third.

Garbage Island Utopia. by sunshineramblings

Daniel & Armand buy a house on Staten Island after leaving Dubai. Based off that commercial. You know the one.

Old Pains by EllaStorm

"It wasn’t a conscious decision, really, why would he make the conscious decision to move back towards the danger, the wounded, enraged, clawed, fanged danger, it wasn’t reasonable, it wasn’t cautious, it was – genuinely, just as fucking stupid as putting a needle in his vein and shooting himself to the moon for the first time in 1970 after that fucking Rolling Stones concert." In the aftermath of Louis’ swift departure to New Orleans, Daniel is left alone in the Dubai penthouse in Armand’s presence.

so ascends the flame by MountainsToRivers

Three scenes in Dubai, from Louis' departure to Daniel's turning. Armand had watched Louis leave. He was still on the floor, covered in dust, where Louis had thrown him—shape twisted at an almost unnatural angle, staring through the doorway, into the light. "You just had to keep pushing." He said it softly, amber eyes still unnervingly bright as they flicked to Daniel at last.

in the detail(s) by infinitevariety

A turning point. Immediately post-s2.

wake up missing me by dustyloves

"Yeah, congratulations," Daniel says. "You tortured me and my dick liked it, and I have to live with that forever. Are you proud?" "A little," Armand acknowledges.

bloodlust by mechup

Daniel hadn’t realized killing would be so exhilarating.

gibson girl by flowermasters

“Dark hair, slim build,” Armand said, feeling as if speaking might be the only thing keeping him from falling back asleep, from letting the boy go, from plunging into the blackened despair in the other room. “Small breasts, given her frame.” “Clinical,” the boy said. “Nice.”

care and keeping by katplanet (Currently a WIP, but def already worth the read!)

Louis shakes his head. “And now he's got you stepping on him.” Daniel picks his drink up and necks the last half of it. “I have not,” he says, “stepped on him, as of yet.” “But you want to.” “I think so?” Daniel puts the empty glass back on the table and scoots it out of their immediate limb radius. “I think I could want to. I want to want to.” “There you go,” Louis says, “tell him that. That'll set the mood.”

give the dog a treat before you take him out back and shoot him by shrek2enjoyer

Later, Daniel will struggle to remember what he sees in this moment. He might recall the vampire lunging at him, aiming for his neck with teeth ready to bite. In the late hazy nights where his mind holds less inhibition, he may think that the vampire was reaching for his shoulders, trying to find something to grab hold of so that he wouldn’t fall. On exactly one occasion he’ll contemplate the idea that the vampire was leaning in for a kiss. He will immediately discard the thought as proof that he needs to lower his dopamine prescription.

i'm old enough to face the dawn by exastris_scientia

The living room is dark and silent behind him, so he feels relatively secure in fishing the half-empty pack of cigarettes and lighter out of the pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t like to smoke in front of people as a general rule, since he almost never feels like explaining that technically he hasn’t been a smoker since 2005, he just keeps them around for especially stressful occasions. And this week has been the most stressful one he’s experienced since he got his Parkinson’s diagnosis. “I can’t say I’d recommend that,” Armand says smoothly from the space beside his elbow. Daniel jumps. “Jesus Christ. How long have you been lurking there like Nosferatu?”

[sludgevomit]

SludgeVomit’s Goretober Exhibition: Day 7

Deep Freezer

Arm was bent awkwardly at an uncomfortable angle as your body was pulled with force. Feet tripping over themselves as the speed was too much for your malnourished state. Having spent days filled with solitude in a closet with barely any care shown your way. Brain and flesh withering as each minute alone had sent you further into a pit of despair. With your psyche on the brink of destruction, you allowed Sir to direct you to the basement entrance. Tumbling down the wooden stairs with heavy, boulder-like thumps. Feeling an ache as the air deep in your lungs was exorcized. Lying limp, face contorting as a silent depression takes over. Howling with intense agony when a palms grasps onto the back of your head and neck. Sediments from broken bottles and erosion of the cement nipped at your skin; dragged along the ground as the man who now claimed you brought your figure to the side of the wall. The hands left your upper half, allowing you the opportunity to glance at the dented commercial chest freezer. Inconspicuous to others, but to you, you knew that this would become your new home.

The man lifted the top, cold and warm air mixing to create plumes of icy smoke. Rummaging through the packages of uncooked meat, animal and human, making room for the new piece to get comfortable in. Hoisting the body with ease, raising the back of his hand in a threatening manner when the body tried to fight for a moment to escape. Enclosing them in darkness, leaving the Meat with the sounds of chains locking them in. Sir wrapped his legs around an old folding chair, crossing his arms over the backrest. Allowing the time to pass, waiting with eager patience for the muscle to begin to freeze. For stiffening joints and tightening skin. Figure shaking as the heart slows with dying temperatures. Only then will the man release the being from the frozen cell. To bring it back to life with warm, heavy thrusts penetrating unconscious weight. Hole squeezing as pleasure takes over even while asleep. A piece of Meat now compliant to the man’s romantic abuse.

[jessefandomunited]

Helloooooo my friend I'm here with Spencer ideas, I'm in desperate craving for rescue fics so maybe either us rescuing Spencer or maybe Spencer rescuing us?

You're always coming in clutch with the ideas and we salute you for this I hope you enjoy

Kidnapped ( reader x Spencer )

- I once again will try to be as gender neutral as possible- you are kidnapped and Spencer comes to rescue you because he looooooves you ...and it's kind of his job loool

( made this in one go so hope yall like it)

I sat in the cold dark basement shivering. I had been stripped and beaten for days now and I felt like there would be no end. Cuts and bruises formed along my arms and legs where he gripped me violently to continue his torment.

I took a shuttering breath and tried to center my breathing again. I stupidly recalled a commercial I had seen for some relaxation app that had breathing classes and the one they displayed in the ads was helping me relax a bit . I laughed weakly to myself wondering if I should download it if I get out of here ...I was becoming delirious. My thoughts wondered to Spencer , my dear friend and coworker who I had the biggest crush on. I wondered if he was fighting for me . Huddled over the evidence, eyes scanning for clues as his brain worked overtime to find something, anything . I hoped with all my heart he was doing okay. I was sure flashbacks of his own kidnapping were probably keeping him awake at night , wondering if I was getting even half the torment he got... or more.

The door creaked open and I didn't move from my crumpled form on the ground, it was pointless and I knew if I fought against him he'd make the pain worse. " ohhhh my dearest pet" he hummed patronizingly " you are all tuckered out" I had a few choice words for him that I bit back . " its time once again for my experiments " he cooed and yanked the chain holding my arms behind my back. He hauled me to the same place on the wall as always , my legs barely able to hold me up. I pressed against the wall and tears already were dripping down my face. " now today I have an interesting theory" he said casually " I want to try and peek a layer of skin off" I went dizzy for a second at even the notion of a blade sliding against my skin like a potato peeler. " enough of that " he snapped and pressed a button linked with the shock collar around my neck. I yelped in pain as he sighed " now back to business " he said walking over with a knife . At that moment Spencer burst through the door gun out stretched and a haunted look on his face as his eyes met mine. " FBI DROP IT" he yelled . Shocked my capture didn't drop it and instead held the knife dangerously close to my throat . " drop it" Spencer said again steadily but I could hear his rising panic in his voice. My legs were shaking and I felt a prick from the knife leaving a trail of blood spilling down the same clothes I had been wearing the day of my abduction, the same ones he kept me in day after day as if mocking my old life pre capture.

Spencer closed his eyes and let out a slow breath " let em go alright? We can work this out" the Unsub shook his head emphatically , he was starting to get riled up too," no because I've bested you , all of you in the FBI! I've taken one of your own and now you will watch as they die" he rose his hand to stab me and that was all he needed to do for Spencer to shoot his hand holding the knife . The Unsub screamed in pain as the other agents subdued him.

Spencer rushed over to me immediately wrangling with the shock collar and chains to free me " are you okay , of course you're not what am I saying" Spencer stuttered I could tell he was holding back tears. I took a shuddering breath as the chains fell and instantly wrapped my arms around him sobbing into his chest. He squeezed me tightly " I thought I lost you ...I couldn't lose you." He rubbed my back and burrowed his face in the crook of my neck . This was the most pain I had been in but being so close to Spencer felt so good I ignored it. " guys the ambulance is here " Derek informed softly . I could feel Spencer jump a bit as if he thought we were alone . He quickly nodded his head and helped me up , offing to carry me to the ambulance but I declined. There was some power in physically walking out of this fucking nightmare, and I needed that. Though the second I was outside them put me on a stretcher and rushed me off to the hospital.

Days of being half conscious in the hospital had come and gone like fleeting memories and soon I was home. Spencer and Garcia had loaded me up with all the snacks and things I could ever need to recover and I was grateful but, there was still one thing I needed. " Spencer " I called before he left. I saw Garcia have a light smirk in her face as she quickly left. " what is it do you need anything else before I go" he asked his eyes wide with concern. I shook my head " no... it's just... when you're in a position... like I was .. you get a lot of time to think, and for me , all I could think of was the fact I may never see you again ." I saw his pupils dilate as I said this , " really...me?.. why?" I sighed and grabbed his hand gently and looked up at him again " Spencer I love you, I've been in love with you for a long time now. I love the way you talk, your humor, how smart you are and most of all , that big heart of yours. Any time I'm sad or upset or just lonely I know I can call you and you'll be there. You're my best friend and I'd love ...I'd love for us to be more" his mouth slacked open and he quickly nodded " i honestly never thought you'd say that to me, ever , I love you... so much" he wrapped his arms around me so gently knowing how much pain I was in. " you know I can stay here for a day or two... to help you out and all that" he whispered gently . I felt my smile grow wider," that would be incredible " 

[michealwilliams11]

noo i need to know what happens next in the bodyguard fic

My Loving Bodyguard pt.2

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader [I didn't think you guys would like it since it was so old✋️😭]

Summary: Death and questions are all that flood your mind.

Warning: Guns, swearing, suggestive sex.

You barged into the room, a few officers on your tail, with your gun pointed around the room. There she was, your sister. You quickly ran to her and checked her pulse. Luckily, it was there, but it was faint.

"Take her to the van. Now!" You ordered the police officers, some made way, and took your bleeding sister while some searched the room. You knelt down to Officer Bailey's body, there was a clear stab wound on his neck.

You didn't want to accuse anybody yet, but it was clear who stabbed who. Bailey had a knife in his hand that still had blood on it. There was also a butter knife near his face. When the officers weren't looking, you snatched Bailey's phone and put in your pocket.

"Take his body for inspection and clean this mess up. I'll talk to the family members." You spoke up, the officers nodding to the orders and quickly going to work. You walked out of the room, taking a cigarette out and lighting it. "Bailey, Bailey, Bailey." You murmured under your breath with the shake of your head.

-

You walked into the Carpenter's apartment with a bouquet of flowers in your hand. Everyone glanced at you before focusing on what they were doing. Some muttered a greeting, and some chose not to. You scanned the room, not finding any sign of Quinn. So you silently walked to her room before knocking on her door.

There was shuffling before a muffled "Come in!" was heard. You took out a deep sigh before entering the room. "Y/N? What do I owe this fine visit?" Quinn asked, playing with her tank top and biting her lip. She doesn't seem to be looking at your eyes.

You cleared your throat, clearly shocked at Quinn's behavior. "I'm here with some bad news." You hinted to the flowers and put them on her nightstand before sitting next to her. "That my bed might break?" Quinn asked, putting her hand on your arm and tilting her head.

"Your father was murdered." You bluntly said, Quinn quickly shot up at the news. "He.....He was what?" Quinn said, some gears moved in her head. "Get out." She whispered, her voice ringing out the room.

"I...I would like to ask-" You were cut off when Quinn started hitting you. "Get out! Get out! GET OUT!" Quinn screamed, you quickly dropping a device in the transparent trash bin and left the room.

"The fuck happened in there?" Mindy asked from her position on the couch. You glanced around the room to see everyone staring at you again. "N-Nothing, well......Officer Bailey is dead." You clarified, everyone's eyes went wide. Chad quickly put the news on.

"Reports have been confirmed that Officer Wayne Bailey has been killed. The officer was found in an apartment building, which is owned by Olivia L/N. She said, "He just came in and stabbed me." The case is known as self-defense and attempted murder." The woman voiced before it went on commercial break.

There was a moment of silence before Ethan shot up. "I-I got to go." He announced before leaving in a rush. You studied the room and decided to stand outside. You took a cigarette from your back pocket and lit it.

You smoked for a little while before the apartment door opened. You turned to find Sam and Tara walking out, the duo stopped when they saw you. You inhaled again before throwing away the cigarette. "Where you guys headed?" You asked, some smoke coming out of your mouth.

"We're headed to the hospital. To talk to Olivia. I'm so sorry for what happened." Sam spoke up as Tara just looked at the cigarette that was still lit and now on the floor. You stepped on it and started to walk. The duo looked at each other and followed after you.

"If you don't mind. What happened?" Sam asked. The duo entered the elevator with you right in front of them. "What you heard on the news is what happened. Bailey attacked, and my sister killed him." You answered, your answer running thick through the elevator.

The three of you started to walk to your car before Sam's phone rang. You glanced at it to see 'Richie' on the screen. "Get in and make sure to lock the door." You instructed as you pushed the duo in the car before making sure they locked it.

You pulled out your gun from your holster and looked around the street. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed fine before you saw a glimpse of a knife in your window. You quickly ducked and punched Ghostface.

They staggered back before tackling you. Your head hit the ground hard, and before you could think of anything. They stabbed you and made sure to twist the knife before a big chuckle rang out. The voice was covered by the voice changer but there was a small peek of the real voice.

You thought quick and punched Ghostface. They again staggered, but they were too late to go into action. You took the gun that you dropped and shot them straight in the stomach. Ghostface looked at you and then to their stomach before falling back.

"That was easy. I expected you to be stronger." You said, your voice a little wheeze as everything started to look....doubled? You took the knife out of your abdomen. "Y/N!" Tara was quickly found at your side and helped you to stand.

"I'm calling the ambulance." Sam said as she put her phone to her ear. Tara was mumbling a sort of prayer as you held her close. Her prayer fell short when she let out a shriek. You looked down to see Ghostface grabbing her leg.

But they didn't seem to do it to attack. No. It was because they wanted help. "Please......no." Their robotic voice said. They're hand reaching out. You shook your head and tutted. "Where's the other one?" You asked, leaving Tara's side and squatting down.

"I...." They said, gripping onto your sweater. You leaned down to hear them better. "Hos....Hospital." They murmured, short and quick pants coming out. You shook your head again and tried removing his mask.

They had other ideas as they grabbed a rock nearby and slammed it against the side of your face. A few gunshots rang out as your vision was blurry. You felt someone drag you in a car and speed off. There she was, Tara, the woman you loved but couldn't have.

Her voice rang out, calling for you to stay with her. You wished, but the blood that was lost from the stab and rock started to affect. It was only a while until everything went black.

-

You groaned in pain as you tried blinking away the headache that started to form. "Careful." A voice rang out, making you turn to the owner. There stood Tara, who seemed to have rolled up her sleeves and taking out some pills.

She glanced at you before handing you the pills. You glanced at them suspiciously before downing them and some water. It was silent as Tara sat next to you and held your hand. You opened your mouth open, Tara leaned in, but you closed it again.

"When will I be discharged?" You asked instead, Tara deflating slightly in disappointment. "Anytime you want to." She answered truthly, but her eyes held some hope that you would stay. Though you never caught that.

"Call the nurse." You ordered. Tara stared at you for a moment before her face turned into a scowl. "Excuse me? I literally drove you to the hospital, dragged your bleeding body, and waited for you to wake up." Tara spoke, standing up abruptly. The chair that she was sitting on fell back.

"Tara..." You tried calling out, but Tara scoffed and left. You cursed out and held your head in your hands. You were so confused about what was happening. There was Tara, your sister, and Ghsotface. God, you hoped that these drugs would help you out.

[callme-holly]

hey!! I was wondering if you could do 37 (resting their head on the other’s chest) with curly?

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 [curly shepard x reader]

𝐬𝐮���𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - simply relaxing with curly shepard 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - y'all i think i'm finally back into my decent content era?? Idk but this feels pretty good to me 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.1k words 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of fighting, slight injury detail

The living room is relatively quiet, the low buzz of static from the busted TV filling the space around you, some sort of late night commercials that you have no interest in watching, playing on screen. The air smells faintly of stale cigarette smoke, but then again, the Shepard house always does, and it’s a scent you’d grown accustomed to after all the nights spent here. 

You lay sprawled out on the old, beaten couch, the fabric worn after years of use and lack of care, your head resting back against the couch cushions, your attention focused on the boy lying on top of you. Your fingers trail through his curls, which are for once washed free of grease, the strands soft and still slightly damp, drawing the occasional low hum from him. His head is pillowed on your chest, arms circled around your middle, holding you close. 

There’s a fresh bruise, deep and purple, blossoming on one side of his face, and if the subtle indentations in his skin are anything to go by, you have no doubt that the person who left the mark was adorned with rings. 

“You doing alright, Curls?” you ask gently, tracing patterns into the curve of his shoulder blade, keeping your touch light.

Curly shrugs in response, the fabric of his shirt rustling at the action as he lifts his head, deep blue eyes meeting yours. “Yeah… Nothin’ I ain’t had before.” He pauses, his smile wry as he leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips, before turning away again. “Takes a lot more than a few scratches to put me down.” 

Silence falls over the room once more, heavy with unspoken questions on your part and vague dismissals on his. You’re well aware that Curly thrives off of fighting and lives for the adrenaline rush it gives him and the thrill of being the centre of something bigger than himself. The danger is what drives him, what keeps him constantly on edge and alert, and what brings out a sense of stress and anxiety in you that you just can’t seem to suppress.

“I wish you wouldn't fight so much.” It’s a sentence you’ve said countless times before, so much so that it might as well be an everyday refrain, a phrase you know has nothing but an endless repetitiveness to it, yet always seems to fall on deaf ears. You never get any response other than silence, perhaps a smart comment if you’re lucky, or a lingering kiss to no doubt silence any further conversation. Either way, you never really expect an answer, and when you don't get one this time around, you can't say you're surprised. Curly simply tucks his face away into your chest once more, head nudging your hand absently in a silent attempt at getting you to continue trailing your fingers through his hair. 

You oblige without much complaint, continuing to scratch lightly until his muscles relax under your ministrations, the tension bleeding away slowly. You shift slightly, pulling one of Curly’s arms tighter around you and tugging yourself up to lean against the armrest, the cushions shifting under your weight. Curly doesn’t respond, but he shifts as you do, pressing a feather-light kiss to your collarbone and then another to your throat, and you can't help the small laugh that bubbles out of you, your fingers pausing in their slow motion as they move through tangles and twists of black curls.

“You really gotta stop that,” you murmur quietly, not entirely meaning it, a smile curving at the corners of your mouth. “If Tim catches you, he’ll think you’ve gone soft.” 

That earns you a low chuckle against your skin, Curly nuzzling into the crook of your neck, each breath he takes deep and steady. “Never  gonna happen. Besides, he's too busy chasing skirts to bother with us.” A lazy grin flickers across his features, his lips brushing softly along your jawline before moving upwards until they meet yours. “So long as I stay outta trouble, he leaves me alone.” He draws back, letting his head fall to your chest once more, his hands finding their way beneath your shirt, resting lightly on your bare midriff. 

You hum noncommittally in response, content enough to simply lay there and listen to him talk, a fine way of getting the last of his energy out and to put a stop to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Curly is a talker, even more so when he’s tired, and his ramblings often lead to sleep-slurred sentences, barely strung together and barely coherent. 

You can sense that that’s the stage you're nearing now—the exhaustion weighing his body down and slowing his speech, his mind becoming increasingly fuzzy. You reach up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead, your thumb ghosting across his brow and the small scar that mars it, subtle to most but easy to notice to someone such as yourself, who has spent hours admiring every little detail and imperfection that makes up Curly Shepard. 

“We should probably head to your room.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and you feel Curly’s hand tighten on your waist, almost like he’s preparing himself to stand but isn't sure where to go from there. “Tim won’t be happy if we both pass out on the couch. And you said Angela has her boyfriend over tonight, remember?” 

Curly nods silently against you, letting out an almost exasperated sigh as he lifts his head again to look at you, eyes searching yours briefly. His brow furrows, and he tilts his head slightly, frowning. “And that means we have to move because...” he trails off, waiting for you to give an answer that satisfies him enough to even consider moving. 

Your fingers smooth through his hair once more, a gentle motion that’s only half intentional at this point, but he closes his eyes and leans into it regardless. 

“Because then you’ll be able to sleep without interruption.” You say simply, knowing that that will be enough to make the gears turn in his head. A small, almost agitated huff escapes him, and he shifts to sit up slowly, looking down at you through tired, hooded eyes. There’s a moment of hesitation where neither of you speak, and then he lets his shoulders droop, defeated by your logic, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Does that mean you’ll stay the night?” He murmurs, and you smile, leaning your forehead against his for a second longer.

“Yeah, I suppose I can stick around.” You reply softly, and you’re rewarded with a bright grin that rivals the sun itself.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"The nighttime brings promises I can't keep

Givin' in is the one thing that I don't need

Got ahead of myself, gotta retrace my steps'

Cause I lost me the moment I took a piece of you

And you may never believe, but I'm sorry

I never meant for it to go this way (this way)

Only wanted the best and I'm stickin' to my story

This was a moment for me, and this was all it could be"

Destin Conrad & Alex Isley –"Same Mistake"

The state of mental disarray Celeste lived in would've broken the average woman. Having a feral pack of vampires follow her home brought on a fear so acute that she fled her cottage that same night and stayed with Mercy until the next morning.

She didn't tell her friend about the encounter, knowing she'd be packed off to a mental ward, or at least temporarily placed under observation at the hospital where Mercy worked as a nurse.

Mercy wasn't stupid.

She sensed immediately that Celeste's distress was beyond the made-up story about a burglar trying to break into her house. Crime happened a lot in the Easy, and any normal person would call the cops and bitch about soaring crime rates. Nothing would come of it, anyway. Outside of homicide, the NOLA police department wasn't known to haul ass for a B&E —breaking and entering. Mercy's suspicions were affirmed by the way Celeste acted, peeking out of the window every half hour like the time an old boyfriend before Freddie harassed her with stalking and drive-bys to her old apartment. All of her clique knew Terry left the city. She told them he had his job to get back to and things weren't going to pan out long distance. Mercy's lips poked out like she was itching to know if Terry was the problem and the reason for running off to her place in the middle of the night.

Celeste slept on the couch in Mercy's apartment and stayed indoors there while her friend left early for work. Daytime was a safe time. Isn't that what the vampire myths claimed it to be? She stared at the old bite wounds on her neck, thigh, and breasts. How could she be so blind to what they were? Terry had her so twisted up in the fog of lust that she glossed over proof that bloodsuckers were fucking real.

She groaned and closed her eyes. Terry manipulated her trust to feed from her.

New Orleans was the popular gothic home of vampire lore in the south. Countless books, movies, TV shows and the like centered it as the breeding ground for supernatural creatures. People made stories about monsters to scare children into being obedient. Bloody Mary. The Boo Hag. Zombies. Shit, even Voodoo still gave folks around those parts the heebie-jeebies even though white people turned it into a commercial joke. They sold Voodoo donuts, Voodoo dolls, and even ran up and down the French Quarter pretending to be Voodoo Witch Doctors giving graveyard tours to visit Madame Marie Laveau.

Like her ancestors before her, Celeste knew Vodun was real. Hoodoo was real. African retentions stayed rooted in the diaspora, and New Orleans was the most African city in America, witnessing unspeakable horrors done to Black people. White people were monsters bringing them to southern American shores. Surely their monstrosity enabled wickedness to flourish on southern soil and everywhere else. Her people danced at carnival, dressed as skeletons, and masked to hide their true selves. What better city to feed in than one that openly courted secrecy, excess, and spooky vibes? If people disappeared or turned up dead, the law and society could blame it on American's natural inclination to be violent with one another…not anything supernatural.

Vampires walked among them.

She swiped the cracked screen of her smartphone, looking up old wives' tales about Terry's kind. None of them supported anything he would be averse to. He had a reflection in the mirror. Crosses didn't bother him. He shook a priest's hand and didn't freak out. Never even flinched when she wore her gold cross necklace. She fed him garlic in the shrimp she cooked. The only things that tripped her up was that he walked around in the daytime, and she never saw him with fangs. Obviously, his teeth were sharp enough to break her skin, but regular human teeth could do that.

Maybe he was a familiar.

Dracula had Renfield. Maybe Terry was The Deacon's Renfield, luring people to their doom.

Celeste rubbed her scalp and swallowed down the anger festering in her chest. She'd made a mistake trusting Terry. She let a pretty boy's face and five-star Michelin dick trick her into submission of diabolical evil. The only saving grace was Terry's absence from her life, and whatever else ran around the Easy that scared the vampires away. She heard them say Old Ones. Perhaps that's what landed on her roof, causing the bloodsuckers to flee. Whatever it was, it didn't harm her, so she had one less monster to worry about.

As long as she stayed active during the day and locked herself in for the night, the vampires couldn't touch her. Had they wanted her dead or sucked dry, they would've done it days ago when she came home from work at night. They seduced people easily. Moved fast. It wouldn't take much to kill her on a dark street. They wanted her alive for a reason: to get Terry.

She texted Mercy and told her she felt better about going home. Made up a story about getting a burglar alarm. While driving to her small neighborhood in Marigny, she kept her neck on swivel to check for suspicious activity. She spent the rest of her time sleeping. She was so tired lately. Fatigue came easy.

Come nightfall, she turned all the lights on in the house and carried a sharp meat-carving knife on her. In her bedroom, she watched the news on her laptop, feeling drowsy. She typed in the words Shelby Springs into the Google search bar and tried to figure out where Terry came from. He claimed that he lived not too far from the place where his cousin was murdered. Three other parishes surrounded Shelby Springs. Typing Terry's name in the search engine brought up pictures of other Terry Richmonds, all white and mostly old.

Going another route, Celeste typed in the name Michael Simmons with Shelby Springs, and a slew of articles filled her screen. She read about a corrupt police force and an attempted coverup. Not one article mentioned Terry's name. Stranger still, four of the officers involved in the corruption scandal had disappeared months after being charged to stand trial. The only members of the force still around happened to be a Black woman who was set to testify against her fellow officers. She quit the force and refused to comment on any of the charges with the media. Celeste wrote her name down: Officer Jessica Sims. A second officer, who had been shot by his own Police Chief, made a move across the country to work at another police force.

If Terry went to help his cousin, surely Officer Sims would have information about his address, or at least the name of the parish he came from. Celeste stared at the screen. Officer Sims' round face looked haunted by something.

Another thought occurred to her, and she grabbed her cell phone. She called her cousin Butchie, who was friends with Travis.

"Butchie, can you text me Travis's number? I need to ask him something."

"About?" Butchie drawled on the other end.

"None of your business."

Butchie sucked his teeth and twenty seconds later, Travis X's number appeared on her screen. She typed it in fast, hitting the send button.

"Who dis?"

"Is that how you answer your phone? It's me, Duchess."

"Sister Celeste? What's going on?"

"Can you tell me, or ask your brother, where Terry lives?"

"Who?"

"Terry. Terry Richmond."

"Who dat?"

"Whatchu mean who dat? Your friend you brought to the Indian practice last month…your brother Scubbie's marine buddy. The one with the green eyes."

"Scubbie was never in the marines and I didn't bring anybody to the bar with green eyes. Have you been smoking that funny herb?"

"He came with you outside when you lit up my cigarette. The pretty boy."

Travis stayed silent.

"Never mind. Sorry to bother you. I thought maybe you knew him. Goodnight."

Celeste tapped her cell phone against her thigh. Terry used Travis to get next to her. He probably induced some type of hypnotic state like those vampires tried to do at her house… Jedi mind-tricked Travis into letting him hang with them. Once he was no longer needed, the memory of Terry faded from his mind.

She shut off the laptop and curled into a ball with the knife in front of her face. Resting her fingers on the handle, she made plans to visit Shelby Springs the next time she had another two consecutive days off.

Celeste drank a red bull to perk herself up for work at the elder care facility. The new client who moved into Miss Irma's old room was a cranky white man who never seemed satisfied with his care there. He often complained that his room was cold and drafty.

"There's no draft and your room faces the garden, the sunniest and warmest part of the building," Celeste said, helping Mr. Crawley with the door so he could move with his walker better to get inside his room.

"I'm telling you people I have a draft in my room and it's too cold, even when I turn up the heat. I pay too much money for this place not to have controlled temperatures," Crawley said.

"May I suggest wearing one of your nice sweaters?" she said.

Celeste grit her teeth, listening to Crawley go off, but she assisted him and nodded her head as his list of complaints grew. She helped him sit at the desk near the window where he wanted to write letters and his autobiography. He probably complained about his life there, too.

"You feel that?" he said.

Crawley held his hand out toward the closed window where sunlight created a square of light on the teal carpet. He grabbed her hand and forced it into the light.

"See?" he said, his pale blue eyes pleading with her to pay attention.

She stood with her fingers splayed out, dust motes floating in the bright light. Where warmth should've been, there was only a cold spot. She moved her hand in different areas around the window and there was definitely an icy chill that shouldn't have been there. Glancing up at the air conditioner vent, she didn't hear it working at that moment. Only the fan whirred, giving a pleasant circulation of air.

"I feel the cold air, Mr. Crawley. I don't know what I can do about it. Is it bothering you?"

"If it stayed in that one spot it wouldn't be a problem." He leaned in conspiratorially, and she moved closer to him. "But it moves around."

"Moves around?"

Crawley's tone of voice lowered, and he genuinely looked agitated by Celeste's facial expression.

"The cold moves around in here," he said.

She glanced at the window and reached her hand into the suspect area. The sun warmed her hand up. The cold spot was gone.

"See? I told you. Now it's all warm and normal again, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Celeste retrieved a sweater from the hook on the door and placed it on the back of Crawley's seat.

"I'll be back to take you to lunch," Celeste said.

She left the room and worked without incident until she walked down the hallway carrying a bag of collected trash and passed near Crawley's room. A large, cold spot sat in front of his door. The chill startled Celeste. The air in the building had slightly warmed up, but not enough to need the air-conditioning blasting more than it was. She walked through an icy gust and gasped at the sudden drop in temperature. Crawley's door was open. He furiously scribbled at his desk. Celeste moved back and forth between coolness and frigid air. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed someone walking toward the employee break room.

Miss Irma.

Celeste stood cemented to the floor, and Miss Irma turned a corner and glanced back at her. A male co-worker pushed a cart of meds down the hall and stared at Celeste's confused face.

"You alright, Celeste?"

"Did you see someone walk past you?"

"Just now?"

"Yes."

"Nope."

She didn't want to walk down the hall. Ignoring a dead woman should've been easy, but Celeste moved along the corridor close to the wall. When she reached the corner, she prayed no one would be there.

"Oh thank God," she sighed, seeing another empty hallway.

She left the building out of the side door to throw away the trash in the dumpster outside. A supervisor named Diane met her back inside the break room. Diane snacked on a bag of chips and a bottle of coke.

"Celeste, can you get in touch with Terry Richmond? He hasn't returned my calls to collect his grandmother's personal effects," Diane said.

"I haven't spoken to him in a long time."

"Well…his grandmother has boxes in our storage room and I'd hate to throw it out. The clothes we can donate to Goodwill, but there are photo albums and books—"

"I'll take them to him. I get off at five."

"You will? That would be great. Do you have time now to get it and put it in your car? I can help you. Mr. Richmond was told that we can hold items for thirty-days and he said he would get them before he left the city. It's been past the deadline."

Celeste followed Diane to the large storage room, and in the back were four medium-sized boxes and two bags of clothes. They took two trips to her car, and she squeezed all the boxes in the back seat and the passenger side. She dumped the contents of an over-sized box into the trunk and folded it up to reuse later at her home.

"Thank you so much. This makes me feel so much better. There are photos and all kinds of irreplaceable things in them. I'd hate to see them dumped in the garbage," Diane said.

"No problem. I'll keep them at my house and he can pick them up the next time I see him."

Diane left her alone. Celeste grabbed her smokes from the glove compartment and took an extra break. She hid herself in the garden and sat on one of the wooden benches. Seeing Miss Irma unearthed troublesome emotions. She worried that her mind was teetering on the verge of mental collapse from the stress and fear. Seeing ghosts on top of vampires was too much. Puffing and fretting, Celeste closed her eyes. Feeling dizzy, she leaned forward, hanging her head between her legs. Goosebumps pricked her skin as the temperature dropped abruptly around her. She shivered in the direct blazing sunlight.

"It's the baby making you feel sick," an elderly female voice said.

Celeste kept her eyes closed and head low, too afraid to open them or move. Reeling, she prayed silently and hoped that she wouldn't pass out.

"Don't be afraid. You know I won't hurt you…I just have to talk to you."

Celeste opened her eyes and focused her attention on the grass beneath her feet. She looked slightly to her right and noticed a pair of feet encased in pretty yellow house slippers. Moving her gaze higher, she recognized the simple pink floral dress, and the pale wrinkled hands.

"I'm scared," Celeste said.

The hand of a dead woman pulled her up, and they looked at one another eye to eye on the bench.

"Is this real? Or am I losing my mind?" Celeste asked.

Miss Irma's eyes twinkled. She looked more alive and vibrant than her last days at the assisted living facility.

"Your mind is fine, baby. Just fine."

"You're really a ghost, then?"

"That indeed. May I?"

Miss Irma pointed to Celeste's stomach. Celeste sat back.

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Miss Irma rested her soft hand on Celeste's belly. The warmth she exuded seemed so real. Ghosts were supposed to be smoky and floaty. Miss Irma sat next to her like the most solid and alive person on the planet.

"Well, now…Papa didn't waste no time," Miss Irma said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are pregnant, child. It's still early, but you are about to become a mama for my great-granddaddy."

"That can't be true."

"Getting pregnant?"

"Terry being your great-granddaddy…he's not even…he's not…"

"You know it's true. I can see in your eyes you know his secret…what he is. On this side, they tell me that you've done the impossible, so now I must tell you something important…something I was too weak to say before I died."

Miss Irma cradled Celeste's hands, which shook so badly that the ghost had to clamp them down tight between her palms.

"You have my things. Look through them so you may know Papa's story. He was human once upon a time ago. I spent my long life documenting all I could for my grandson Michael, but he's gone and can't hold the secret for our family. Papa wanted me to tell his story. But my mind started fading and I couldn't finish my work. Now you have become my family, Celeste. There are beings in the world who mean Papa harm… and your baby, too. They hide in plain sight in other places, but because Papa came back here, they might come for him."

"Other vampires?"

"Les Gargouilles…gargoyles. They will seek him out and kill him. Their kind are enemies to Papa. Enemies to that child if they find out about you carrying a vampire's baby."

"I've seen a few gargoyle statues in the Quarter that were never here before."

"Oh no, then it may be too late."

Miss Irma rose from her seat and looked off into the distance. She paced in front of Celeste.

"They're not active in the daytime, so you're safe, even when they hunt at night. I've tracked many during my lifetime taking pictures of them all over the world. They protect humans and won't harm you because you're a child of God. The baby will be safe until it's born and out of your body…oh no…oh no…"

Miss Irma looked at her hands. They began to disintegrate, starting at her fingertips.

"Celeste! He loves you…he—"

Miss Irma's body broke apart and floated away like the graying ash of a dying fire.

Too stunned to move, Celeste sat on the bench for the rest of her shift. She wandered away only when the sun went down. Climbing into her car, she thought of what to do with the information given to her. After an hour of sitting in her driver's seat, she drove herself to the drugstore and bought an early detection pregnancy kit.

At home, she tested herself twice.

She was positive both times.

Chapter 11 HERE.

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