#one hour before barbie thoughts

[sunni-stuff]

Standing outside your apartment, Simon tightened his grip around the wooden toy train, the corners of the box digging slightly into his palm. His heart thrummed uncomfortably in his chest—a sensation far too foreign for someone who’d faced down worse odds than this. He was used to calculating risks, taking them head-on, but this? This wasn’t a battlefield; it was something infinitely more terrifying. He was meeting his daughter.

He cast a glance at the train in his hand, a sturdy, well-crafted toy he and Johnny had spent hours picking out earlier that day. The shopkeeper’s amused expression still lingered in his mind—two grown men scrutinizing toy trains as though the fate of the world rested on their choice. You hadn’t been specific, just a train, no frills, nothing cartoonish. And so Simon had chosen the simplest one, figuring it was better to err on the side of practicality.

Beside him, Johnny leaned casually against the wall, spinning a plastic-cased mermaid Barbie in his hands. The vibrant teal-and-pink packaging clashed starkly with the air of seriousness Simon carried.

Simon scowled, his gaze darting to the doll. “I told you, no dolls. She said no dolls.” His voice was low and rough, almost a growl, though it carried more nervous energy than actual anger.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, smirking as he turned the Barbie over in his hands. “What kid doesn’t like a Barbie? Eh? You’re overthinking this, big man.” His Scottish accent lent an irreverent edge to his words. “Besides, it’s just a backup. If she doesn’t like the train—which, let’s face it, is a bloody long shot—I’ve got something she’s bound to love.”

Simon shot him a sharp look. “It’s not about the toy,” he muttered, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “It’s about… makin’ an impression. Proper one.”

Johnny’s smirk softened, his usual teasing tone giving way to something closer to sincerity. “And you think that’s all ridin’ on a train? C’mon, mate, it’s you she’s meeting, not just some toy. Kids aren’t daft—they know when someone’s tryin’.” He tilted his head toward the toy in Simon’s hand. “But, for what it’s worth, that train’s not bad. Proper classic. No gimmicks.”

Simon grunted in response, his attention flicking back to the apartment door. It was a quiet, unassuming building, but the pressure of what lay beyond that door was immense. You were in there with her—Adira. His daughter. The thought still felt surreal, even after the days he’d spent turning it over in his mind. He’d seen her before, from a distance, but that was different. This was too personal in a way he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

“I should’ve brought the others,” Simon muttered under his breath, more to himself than Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Aye, because showin’ up with the whole bloody team wouldn’t be overwhelming at all, eh? ‘Here’s yer dad, and here’s his army of uncles.’ Real subtle.”

Simon huffed a dry laugh despite himself, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. Johnny always had a knack for cutting through his nerves, even when Simon wasn’t in the mood for it.

The sound of footsteps on the other side of the door snapped Simon’s attention back to the moment. His pulse quickened as the lock turned, and the door creaked open to reveal you standing there, a mixture of caution and curiosity etched into your expression. You didn’t say anything right away, your gaze darting between Simon, Johnny, and the toys in their hands.

“Hi,” Simon managed, his voice quieter than he’d intended. He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the train. “Uh… thought I’d bring somethin’ she might like.”

You glanced at the train, then at Johnny’s Barbie, raising an eyebrow. “I see Johnny didn’t listen,” you comment dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

Johnny grinned, unbothered. “Insurance, lass. Always good to have a backup plan.”

Stepping aside, you gestured for them to come in. “Well, let’s see how this goes. She’s in the living room.”

Simon felt the air grow heavier as he crossed the threshold, each step bringing him closer to something he’d been equal parts dreading and hoping for. The sound of quiet giggles and the rustle of toys came from the living room, and he stopped short in the hallway, his hand tightening instinctively around the train.

“You okay?” you asked curiously, your question laced with something he couldn’t quite place—concern? Reassurance?

He nodded stiffly, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was convincing. “Yeah,” he said, masking his unease. This wasn’t the time to let emotions run wild, not when his daughter was just a few steps away. He needed to reel everything, keep composed.. “Just… takin’ a moment.”

Johnny clapped him on the shoulder, his grin unfaltering. “You’ve got this, mate. And if all else fails—” he held up the Barbie with a dramatic flourish—“I’ve got you covered.”

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Thanks for that,” he muttered dryly.

He took a grounding breath, then stepped into the living room. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks—Adira, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a miniature train set spread out before her. Her dark hair fell in delicate curls around her face, and her eyes, so startlingly like his own, lit up with delight as she guided a tiny train along the tracks.

The world seemed to narrow, every noise fading into the background except for the sound of her soft laughter. This was his daughter, and for the first time, he wasn’t just watching from afar—he was here.

Adira looked up, her curious gaze locking onto him. Simon’s heart leapt into his throat as she tilted her head, studying him with a mix of curiosity and caution. Before he could speak, Johnny stepped forward, a grin plastered across his face as he crouched beside her.

"Hey, bonnie lass," Johnny greeted, bringing in  warmth and cheerfulness. He held out the mermaid Barbie, its plastic casing shimmering in the soft light. “Look what I got for ye.”

Adira blinked at him, her small head tilting to the side in the same assessing way she’d done with Simon. Then, in a voice as sweet as it was blunt, she said, “Ugee.”

Simon held back a laugh, but Johnny froze, his grin faltering. Did she just call me ugly again? he thought, momentarily stunned before recovering with a sheepish laugh.

“Oh, come on, lass. That’s no way to treat yer Uncle Johnny,” he teased, though his pride was clearly bruised. He pushed the doll a little closer, his voice softening. “It’s for you. Look—she’s got a shiny tail and everything.”

Adira’s expression shifted, her curiosity piqued as she finally reached for the doll. Johnny’s face lit up with relief, and he turned to you and Simon with a victorious smirk. “Told ya,” he mouthed, his tone smug.

Simon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, while you merely crossed your arms, waiting for what you knew was coming.

The sound of plastic ripping shattered Johnny’s moment of triumph. His head whipped around just in time to see Adira pull the doll free from its packaging with surprising efficiency. She studied it for a moment, her tiny fingers gripping the head and the body. And then—pop—the doll’s head came clean off.

Johnny’s jaw dropped as he watched Adira inspect the decapitated doll with silent satisfaction. She set the head down beside her, then held up the now-headless body, apparently contemplating her next move.

Simon let out a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as Johnny gawked at the scene, his earlier smugness entirely gone. “Well,” Simon drawled, unable to hide his dry humor. “Guess she wasn’t a fan after all.”

Johnny turned back to you and Simon, his expression caught between disbelief and betrayal. “What… what kind of kid just does that?!” he demanded, gesturing wildly at the scene behind him.

You shrugged, biting back a laugh. “I warned you about the dolls.”

Johnny shook his head, still reeling as he muttered under his breath, “She’s Sid from Toy Story incarnate, I swear.”

Adira, seemingly unbothered by the fuss, returned her focus to her trains, contentedly adding the doll’s head to a makeshift pile of "cargo." Johnny looked ready to protest further, but Simon stepped forward, crouching to her level and holding out the wooden train.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his voice steady despite the lingering laughter in his chest. “I brought you somethin’. Thought you might like it.”

Adira didn’t respond right away, her eyes bouncing between him and the toy. Then, slowly, she reached out, her small fingers brushing against the train before taking it from his hands. Unlike the Barbie, she carefully opened the box, her movements deliberate and methodical. She removed the wooden train gently, inspecting it for a moment. Without a word, she added it to the tracks, her attention already back on her play as if nothing else in the world mattered.

Simon stayed crouched, watching her intently. A flicker of relief crossed his face at her acceptance of the gift. The room, heavy with unspoken tension just moments before, now felt lighter, though Simon could feel the enormity of the moment pressing against his chest.

You appeared at his side, crouching slightly to meet his eye, a small grin on your lips. “That’s a good sign,” you murmured, keeping your voice low. “She doesn’t usually let people touch her trains.”

Simon exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His gaze flickered back to Adira, watching as she carefully positioned the new train car alongside the others, her focus unwavering. It wasn’t much—just a small gesture—but it felt monumental. A start.

“She’s got good taste,” Simon adds, a touch of pride in his tongue as he nodded toward the tracks. “Knows quality when she sees it.”

You chuckled, the sound easing the edges of Simon’s nerves. “It’s not just that,” you replied, your eyes lightening as you watched Adira. “Trains are her world. If she’s letting you into it, even a little…” You trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Simon nodded, his throat tightening with a mix of emotions he wasn’t used to confronting. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply watch her, the curve of her cheek, the determined set of her brow as she pushed the train forward, creating a soft click-clack noise against the wooden tracks. He thought of all the moments he’d missed, all the firsts that had come and gone without him. But now, sitting there on the floor of your apartment, watching his little girl play, he felt something unfamiliar: hope.

“It’s a start,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for now, that was enough.

Johnny hung back near the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the tender scene unfold. Simon, a man he’d always seen as unshakable and stoic, was crouched beside Adira, his usually guarded expression diminished by a rare, genuine grin. Johnny didn’t dare interrupt—this wasn’t his moment. He was just a spectator, standing on the sidelines as a long-standing divide finally began to close.

The warmth in the room tugged at Johnny’s own heart, and though he wasn’t one for sentimentality, the sight was too good to pass up. Without a word, he slipped his phone from his pocket, angling it just right to snap a quick picture. Simon’s grin, lopsided and proud, was illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, his large frame almost comically dwarfed by the tiny train set and the little girl at its center.

Satisfied with the shot, Johnny smirked to himself as he typed out a caption: “Big man, small trains. Heart officially melted. ” He hit send, the photo shooting off to the group chat where the lads were bound to have a field day with it.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a flurry of responses:

Roach: “Never thought I’d see Ghost look so human.”

Gaz: “He’s got the ‘Dad Look’ down already. Almost feel bad making fun of him.”

Price: “I don’t. Send more pics.”

Stifling a snicker, Johnny shoved his phone back into his pocket. He glanced back at Simon, who was completely absorbed in Adira’s world, watching as she pushed the new train along the tracks with the utmost concentration. The sheer joy and focus on her face seemed to draw Simon further into her orbit, as if nothing else existed but the tiny, clacking train set.

Johnny shook his head fondly. Big, scary Ghost, he thought, brought to his knees by a wee lass and a wooden train. It was a sight he’d never forget.

Johnny slipped out of the apartment with a quiet click of the door, leaving the two of you in a silence that felt both comfortable and weighty. His absence left the air clearer, yet filled with the unspoken. As Adira remained engrossed in her trains, her murmurs creating a gentle rhythm in the background, you found your mind racing with a single, unrelenting question:

What now?

Giving her toys was one thing. Simon showing up, physically present, was a start. But the path ahead of you wasn’t so simple. Building a connection took more than gifts and fleeting moments. Adira was too young to truly grasp the gravity of this shift in her world. Telling her outright that Simon was her father didn’t feel right—not now. That conversation would be better left for a day when she could fully understand it.

You rose from your position near him, brushing off your knees as you took a real long look at her. There it was, in her little mannerisms, her sharp focus, the way her brow furrowed just slightly as she concentrated—it was him. So much of him. And the way Simon’s gaze relaxed as he watched her? You could see it, plain as day. He wanted to be there for her.

And you wanted her to be happy.

The realization hit you with clarity: the best way to make this transition smooth was to let Simon find his place naturally. He couldn’t make up for all the firsts he’d missed, but there was still time for so many more moments.

“So…” you began, your voice quiet but heavy, the word hanging between you like an unspoken question. You turned to face Simon, watching him carefully as he sat cross-legged on the floor, his broad frame surprisingly small in this intimate space. He was still holding that wooden train, his fingers gently brushing over the smooth surface like it was something sacred.

Simon looked up at you, his eyes catching yours, and he shifted slightly, his posture relaxed, but there was something else—something vulnerable yet determined. "So," he echoed, his voice unshakable, though you could hear the undertone of apprehension, a slight tremor of uncertainty beneath his calm façade. He wanted to be open, to show you he was ready for whatever was coming next, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that was.

You crossed your arms, not out of defiance but out of the need to ground yourself. It was a physical gesture, a way to hold yourself steady in the face of everything that had led to this moment. “This isn’t going to be easy,” you said, the words a simple statement, but they carried meaning.

“I didn’t expect it to be,” Simon replied, his voice firm, the same way it would sound in the midst of a mission, when the stakes were high. The seriousness in his tone wasn’t lost on you. But there was more than just the soldier in him now—there was a father. "But I’m here. I want to try. For her." His eyes darted to Adira, his gaze lingering on her as she lined up her train set with careful precision. It was a look filled with fierce, almost protective determination, and it tugged at your chest.

“For her,” you agreed, your heart swelling with the truth of it. “She deserves that. But it’s not just about showing up with toys. It’s about showing up for her. Being there when she needs you, even if it’s hard. Even if she pushes you away at first.”

Simon’s jaw tightened as you spoke, and you saw the muscles in his neck flex, as though he was fighting against something—maybe the grandness of what this all meant, maybe his own doubts. “I can do that,” he said after a pause, his voice low but resolute. “I will.”

“You’ll have to.” Your tone tender, but you still held that edge of playful taunting. It was your way of testing the waters, of gauging if he was truly prepared for what this would take. “She’s stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from.”

Simon huffed a quiet laugh, and a faint smirk forming on his mouth. For a brief moment, the walls he’d built around himself seemed to weaken, just a little. “Aye, can’t imagine,” he replied, the humor easing some of the tension in the room.

There was a pause, the room settling into a calm that hadn’t been there before. You watched as Simon glanced back at Adira, his eyes lingering on her as she placed another train down, her little brow furrowed in concentration. The sight was almost too much for him—this was his flesh and blood, sitting right there in front of him, in this quiet, domestic world he hadn’t been a part of.

“First things first—likes and dislikes.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. You turned on your heel and slipped into the kitchen, the quiet tension that had settled between you both diminishing. Simon, sitting cross-legged on the floor near Adira, was still absorbing the weight of everything unfolding. His gaze followed you as you disappeared into the next room, the brief silence stretching between the two of you.

When you returned, you were holding a file—nothing flashy, just a plain folder. You approached him and handed it over, watching as he hesitated, the weight of the paper in his hands heavier than it appeared.

The sight inside that greeted him threw him off guard—pages upon pages of meticulously written details. At first glance, it looked like a detailed report, every section filled with information about Adira’s daily routine, preferences, and even the smallest of habits. Her favorite snacks, the way she liked her sandwiches cut in triangles. Each page was packed with specifics: her reactions to certain foods, her favorite colors, how she responded to certain sounds and even what she liked to do on rainy days—took him completely off guard.

Simon blinked at it, flipping through the pages as if trying to find a sense of grounding in the flood of information. It was overwhelming, but what struck him the most was how thorough it was—how much you had put into it. Everything about her, everything you alone learned over the years, all laid out for him to see.

The file was thick, packed with details. The more he flipped through, the more surprised he became. Notes jotted in neat handwriting with labeled sections.There wasn’t just filled with cold, clinical notes. It also contained moments of tenderness, small anecdotes about how Adira reacted to certain situations or things that made her smile. You had carefully noted the songs she liked to sing along with, how she would curl up on the couch when she was feeling down, the exact way she liked her bedtime story read.

Simon looked up at you, his expression one of confusion and curiosity. “What is all this?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with surprise.

You offered him a faint smile, though there was no real humor in it. “Before you think I’m crazy or paranoid,” you began, raising your hands slightly in defense, “I work at the daycare around the corner, and Adira comes with me. It’s policy to keep these records—just in case. You know, since some kids have allergies, or there are specific things we need to be aware of.”

He nodded, still flipping through the file, as if seeing this list of Adira’s little quirks and habits for the first time made her seem more real. More like a child who had to be cared for, understood, and loved in ways that went far beyond simply showing up with a toy.

“I didn’t know you’d been keeping track of all of this,” A look of genuine surprise crossed his face. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you’d been doing so much.”

You shrugged slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s nothing. Just making sure she’s okay.” There was an edge of vulnerability to your words, as if you were downplaying the emotional weight of it all.

Simon’s fingers lingered on the pages, his gaze skimming the words as if trying to understand the depth of the commitment you had for Adira. It wasn’t just about her well-being, it was about every little thing that made her, her.

“You really do know everything about her, don’t you?” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his reaction. It wasn’t about control or being overprotective—it was about ensuring that every part of Adira’s world was in order, even when you weren’t looking.

“I know what she likes, what she dislikes. I know how she reacts when she’s tired or overstimulated. I know what makes her laugh and what makes her cry. It’s not about keeping tabs, it’s about making sure she feels safe. Especially with everything changing right now.”

Simon absorbed your words quietly, the weight of the file heavy in his hands. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. You had been doing this alone for so long—carrying the weight of all these little details, managing the complexity of motherhood without the support he should’ve been offering.

“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “You’ve done more than I can even imagine.”

You didn’t say anything at first. The simplicity of his words caught you off guard, making you feel a bit exposed. “It’s just what you do for them,” you replied, your voice softer now, more vulnerable. “You do what you can to make sure they’re okay.”

Simon closed the file slowly, processing what it meant. He felt a surge of something—guilt, maybe, or a quiet ache—as he realized just how much he’d missed. He’d been absent for so many of the small, seemingly insignificant moments that made up Adira’s life. And now, looking at the file, he could feel the weight of his absence more than ever.

“I want to know it all,” Simon said quietly, his voice full of resolve. “Every little thing. I don’t care how small it seems. I want to learn everything about her.”

Your heart skipped at his words, and for the first time, you felt a sense of stability knowing he’d be around to lift some of the hardship off your shoulders. For once, it wouldn’t just be you anymore.

“Good,” Your voice filled with quiet approval. “Because it’s going to take time. And you’ll need to be patient.”

“I can do that,” he replied, his jaw set with determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

By 6 AM sharp, there he was—a solid, familiar figure standing at your door with his sleeves rolled up and a faint, hesitant smile. He never asked if you needed help; he simply showed up, ready to lend a hand. Simon didn’t just want to be in your life—he wanted to belong in it. Every visit to your apartment wasn’t just about showing up; it was about figuring out how to bridge the gap between her world and his. You had been Adira's anchor, her everything. Simon understood that, respected it, but he was intent on creating his own place in her little universe—one small gesture at a time.

At first, his kitchen skills left a lot to be desired. You insisted you could handle breakfast on your own, but Simon waved you off, determined to prove himself. Adira sat in her highchair, small fingers clutching a slice of strawberry as she watched her father with wide, curious eyes. He wrestled with the stovetop like it was an enemy combatant, flipping pancakes that somehow always ended up sticking or splattering in every direction. A particularly ambitious flip sent batter flying, splattering across his shirt and the counter.

Adira paused mid-chew, her sharp little eyes zeroing in on the mess. "Messy man," she mumbled around the strawberry, her tone matter-of-fact but laced with childish amusement.

Simon froze, mid-swipe with a paper towel, and glanced at her, eyebrows shooting up. “What’d you call me?”

"Messy man," she repeated, a little more confidently this time, giggling as she pointed at the batter streaked across his chest.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Simon groaned, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “I’ll remember that,” he muttered, though there was no hiding the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

Despite the mishaps, he never gave up. Day by day, the kitchen disasters became fewer. He learned that Adira liked her pancakes shaped like stars if you had the time and that a dollop of whipped cream on top made her clap her hands with delight. He discovered she preferred her strawberries sliced thin, not chunky, and that she hated the crusts on toast but loved when it was cut into neat little triangles.

More importantly, while you were around, Adira began to interact with him in ways you hadn’t expected. She would babble at him as he cooked, her little hands waving animatedly as though she was offering advice. He listened as if she were telling him the most important secrets in the world, nodding solemnly and responding in his deep, rumbling voice.

One morning, as he handed her a plate with her favorite star-shaped pancakes, she looked up at him with a toothy smile, “Thank you, messy man.”

Simon froze, his grip tightening on the plate for just a second before he crouched down to her level. “You’re welcome, love,” The endearing nickname left his lips with ease, carrying an edge of something raw and tender.

You stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a lump in your throat. This wasn’t just about breakfast. It was about Simon trying—every single day—to show her that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was clumsy and imperfect, but it was real. And you couldn’t help but feel the faint stirrings of something like hope, watching the way Adira’s small world seemed to expand to make room for him.

After some time of this new, unspoken pattern settling in—one that felt like a quiet, gradual understanding—Adira seemed to begin warming up to Simon. It wasn’t as deep or instantaneous as it had been with you, but it was enough. Enough for her to sit at the table, nibbling on the pancakes he’d made. Enough to sit near him and listen to his voice without the immediate urge to run to you. And, perhaps most telling, enough for her to offer him a strawberry one morning before daycare.

Still, there were unspoken boundaries. She wouldn’t let him touch her trains, a sacred realm of hers he dared not trespass. And after a while of him being nearby, she’d often wander back to you, clutching at your leg or climbing into your lap, needing the reassurance of your proximity. 

You saw it in Simon’s eyes sometimes, the flicker of hurt that he quickly masked, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. But it did. You could tell. Adira was studying him from the safety of her bubble, keeping her distance as if trying to figure him out. You couldn’t blame her. Adira had lived her life with you as the constant; Simon was a new element in her world, one she wasn’t sure how to integrate yet.

But you couldn’t help but wonder: Did she need just a little nudge? A chance to have a moment with him—just the two of them—without you hovering nearby to catch her if she fell?

That opportunity came one morning when the daycare announced they would be closing down the toddler classrooms for renovations. Since Adira’s classroom was off-limits, she couldn’t come with you, leaving a gap in her schedule for at least a day or two. It was the perfect chance for Simon to step in and watch her alone, just the two of them.

That morning, Simon arrived as usual, but the atmosphere was different. You were already dressed for work, and Adira sat on the couch, her little frame wrapped in her favorite onesie—a fuzzy lavender number with tiny clouds on the sleeves. Her attention was fixed on the cartoon playing on the screen, her pillow hugged tightly to her chest.

You had considered this moment for a while, weighing the risks and the benefits. You knew how much it would mean to Simon if Adira let him in just a little bit more. But it was still a leap. You couldn’t help but feel the protective instinct rising in you, a sharp edge of caution in your chest. If anything went wrong, if Adira seemed uncomfortable or the situation felt off, you’d be home in a heartbeat. It was your job to protect her, to put her needs above all else—even Simon’s. As much as he was trying, as much as he cared, she was still your child, and her safety and happiness mattered most.

Simon raised an eyebrow as he noticed your state of dress and Adira’s lounging figure. “So, it’s just me and her today?”

You nodded, grabbing your keys. “her classroom is closed for renovations. Figured this would be a good chance for you two to spend some time together.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead Simon seemed to take everything in stride, breathing in deeply, knowing his moment was now.

You couldn’t help but study him for a moment longer, as if reading him for any sign that he was second-guessing himself. But then he smiled at you, it was genuine—reassuring. You had to trust him. You had to let him try.

Walking over to Adira, you knelt beside her, smoothing her hair as you spoke. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna hang out with Simon today, okay? I’ll be back soon.” 

Adira’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a tiny pout. “You go?”

“Just for a little while,” you reassured her. “Simon’s going to stay with you, and you’ll have lots of fun. Won’t you?”

Adira looked up at you with those wide, dark eyes, not fully understanding the implications, but offering you a small, shy nod. She then returned her attention to the TV, her little fingers absentmindedly squeezing the fabric of her pillow.

“She’s had her bath, so no worries there,” you swiftly explained, slipping into your role as her mother. “She’s in her onesie because it’s raining today, and for some reason, she loves wearing it on rainy days—I don't understand it but as long as she's happy. There’s food in the fridge, but after a couple of hours, I’d suggest cutting the TV off. Let her color, read, or maybe play with her trains. It gives her eyes a break from the screen. Oh, and rainy days mean pizza. Her favorite place is ‘Mario’s,’ and the number’s on the fridge. She’ll ask for the stuffed crust and extra cheese, light on the sauce.”

Simon absorbed the instructions like a soldier receiving a mission briefing, nodding along as you spoke. His eyes flicked to Adira, who was now idly kicking her feet as she watched the TV, and then back to you. “Got it. Anything else?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let it subside. “Just… be patient with her. She’s still figuring this out. You’re doing great, Simon.”

His lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Thanks.”

You gave him one last glance, scanning for any signs of hesitation or doubt, but his steady demeanor gave you confidence. With a final goodbye to Adira, who waved absently, you headed for the door. With that, you left, the door clicking shut behind you. Your chest felt tight, your every nerve on edge as you walked to work. This was Simon’s test, sure, but it was yours too—trusting someone else with the most precious thing in your life. Only time would tell how it would go.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Simon standing awkwardly in the quiet apartment. Adira stayed exactly where she was, her little form cocooned on the couch, eyes glued to the animated animals bouncing across the TV screen. Simon exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck as he took in the moment. This was it. His chance.

He crossed the room and sat down next to her, careful not to invade her space. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick and uncertain. Adira didn’t so much as glance his way, her focus unwavering as the characters on the screen launched into a cheerful song.

Simon cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the air like an awkward ripple. "So, uh," he started, his voice low and unsure, "you like it when it rains?"

Adira finally looked up at him, her big, curious eyes meeting his. She blinked a couple of times, processing his question, before giving a small, shy nod.

"Yeah?" he pressed, a soft smile creeping onto his face. "What’s your favorite thing about it? The sound? Jumping in puddles?"

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she shifted on the couch, pulling her pillow closer as if using it as a shield. Simon waited, giving her time, not wanting to push. Then, as if finding the courage, she mumbled, “The sound.”

“The sound, huh? Me too,” he said, leaning back a bit to ease the tension. “Kinda peaceful, isn’t it? Makes everything... quiet.”

Adira nodded again, this time a little more confidently. Her tiny fingers started to drum on the pillow in her lap, the rhythm mimicking the pitter-patter of raindrops. Simon caught it and grinned.

“You know,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I used to watch the rain all the time when I was little. Sometimes I’d sit by the window for hours, just listening. My mum always said I’d get stuck there.”

Adira tilted her head at him, her curiosity evident now. “Why?” she asked, her voice soft and a little unsure, as though she wasn’t entirely ready to start talking freely.

Simon chuckled, scratching his chin. “Dunno. Maybe I thought if I stayed there long enough, I’d see something special, like... I dunno, maybe the rain would make magic happen.”

Her eyes widened slightly at the word magic, and Simon felt a small victory bloom in his chest.

“Magic?” she echoed, her tone a mix of skepticism and interest.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, leaning in just a little, like he was about to share a secret. “The kind that only shows up when you’re really, really patient. You gotta look close, though.”

Adira’s gaze darted back to the TV for a moment before returning to him, her guard lowering inch by inch. She hugged her pillow tighter but didn’t turn away.

“Maybe,” she murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, “maybe I’ll see magic too.”

Simon’s chest tightened, a warmth spreading there that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, he wasn’t just a stranger in her world; he was someone she was starting to let in.

“Maybe you will,” he said softly, leaning back into the couch. He let the quiet fill the space again, content to sit beside her, waiting for the rain—or the magic—to come.

After a few minutes, Adira reached over to the side table where her sippy cup rested. She grabbed it, then paused, her hand hovering. Slowly, she stretched it out toward him. “Drink?” she offered, her voice small but steady.

Simon blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. It wasn’t much—just a sippy cup of watered-down juice—but it felt monumental. “Thanks, but that’s yours,” he said gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She pulled it back and took a sip herself, nodding like she’d made a grand decision.

Simon chuckled softly. “Fair enough.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small step, a tiny opening, and Simon took it as the win it was.

The hours slipped by quietly, the sound of the TV buzzing in the background, and before Simon knew it, the three-hour mark had passed. He glanced at the clock, then at the screen, and with a deep breath, he reached over and clicked the power button.

Adira's eyes widened in shock, her little fingers frozen mid-air as she pointed at the now-black screen. "Why?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and mild frustration. "I wanna watch..." Her words trailed off, her pout deepening as she looked back at him, like she couldn’t quite understand why he’d taken it away.

Simon bit his lip, fighting a chuckle. "You’ve been watchin' for a while now, kiddo," he said, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight hesitation in his voice. "Time to do somethin’ else, yeah?"

Adira stared at him for a long moment, her little brow furrowed as she processed what he’d said. She didn’t seem convinced at first, her gaze darting back to the black screen as if willing it to come back to life. When it didn’t, she crossed her arms over her chest, her lower lip poking out in a full pout.

“I don’t wanna,” she muttered, voice small but firm. It was clear she wasn’t happy with the decision, but Simon had a feeling it was more about the principle of the matter than the TV itself.

“C’mon now,” Simon said softly, trying to soften the blow. “We can do somethin’ fun. How ‘bout we build somethin' together? Or read a book?”

Her little frown deepened, and Simon almost felt bad for turning the TV off. But this was the first time he’d gotten a moment alone with her, and he knew it was important to break the habit, to show her there were other things to do in the world besides the screen.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the quiet living room. Then, with a small sigh, she uncrossed her arms and stood up, shuffling toward the toy box with little steps, only to find nothing that interested her.

"Books?" she asked, her voice still laced with uncertainty but tinged with the smallest bit of curiosity.

Simon smiled, feeling a wave of relief. “Books it is,” he said, standing up to join her. “I bet we can find somethin’ that’ll be just as fun as that TV show.”

Adira didn’t answer, but the way she grabbed a book off the shelf made Simon’s heart flutter with a tiny spark of victory. 

Adira returned to Simon’s side, holding a colorful book with a soft, focused expression on her face. The cover was bright, featuring two foxes—one with a bushy tail and the other a smaller, more timid-looking one. The title, No Matter What, was written in bold letters above them. She climbed up beside him and, without a word, placed the book in his lap, her small hands brushing gently against it as if offering him a treasure.

Simon looked down at the book, caught off guard by her quiet gesture. He glanced at her for a moment, meeting her eyes. She looked at him with a silent kind of expectation, waiting.

Slowly, he picked up the book, holding it carefully as if it were something precious. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though it was clear he already had an inkling.

“Foxes,” Adira replied simply, her voice soft but firm. “Mama read it. It’s ‘bout love.”

Simon’s heart tugged at the mention of you. He could imagine the way you’d read to her, the soothing cadence of your voice, the way Adira had probably snuggled up beside you during the bedtime ritual. But there was something in Adira’s face now, something that felt like an invitation—a little piece of trust she was offering him, too.

“Well, alright then,” Simon said, his voice soft as he began to flip open the book. Adira sat close beside him, her tiny hands still on the cover, watching his every move with an intense focus. She didn’t rush him. The silence between them felt comforting.

He began to read aloud, slowly at first, as if still gauging her reaction. “No matter what, the foxes knew that they would always be together, through the rain or the snow, through the darkest nights and the brightest days.”

Adira shifted beside him, her little legs crossing as she settled into his side. Her small hand reached for the page as he turned it, her fingers brushing over the illustrations. She didn’t interrupt, just quietly absorbed the words.

As Simon read on, his voice grew more confident, and the warmth of the moment started to settle between them. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they had bridged a gap, one word at a time, one page at a time. It wasn’t much, but it was something—something to build on.

Adira’s gaze remained fixed on the book, but her body had relaxed against Simon’s, the way a child does when they feel safe. As the last pages of the book came into view, she snuggled closer, her head resting against his shoulder.

When Simon finished reading, he let the book fall softly onto his lap. He looked down at her, her eyes half-closed, but still aware and trusting. She looked up at him again, her tiny voice soft as she spoke. “Foxes love each other... no matter what.”

Simon’s heart thudded in his chest, the simplicity of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant yet, but in that moment, it was enough to see her so close, so willing to share something so personal. A bond had begun to form—fragile, yes, but it was there.

“Yeah,” Simon said, his voice barely above a whisper, “no matter what.”

With the last of the kids sent off and the staff beginning to clean up, you closed up shop, ready to call it a day. But just as you were locking up, a loud clap of thunder rattled the building, causing you to jump in shock. Your heart raced for a moment, the suddenness of it making you freeze in place.

“Jesus, if Adira was here, she’d lose it,” you muttered to yourself, trying to laugh off the shock. But then, your words hit you like a ton of bricks.

If Adira was here.

A chill ran through you as it dawned on you just how careless you’d been. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had completely forgotten to tell Simon about her fear of thunderstorms. She hated them. Hated the loud crashes of thunder, the flashes of lightning. You’d seen her curl up in a ball, her hands over her ears, eyes wide with terror when the storms hit.

The sound of the storm outside was only getting louder, the thunder now booming and crackling as it came closer. You could imagine Adira, sitting there with Simon, eyes wide and full of fear, clutching whatever comfort she could find, and Simon… God, Simon probably didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t have any idea how to handle it.

Without thinking twice, you dropped everything—your bag, your jacket, anything that wasn’t crucial to getting home. You shot a quick look toward the staff, offering a hasty explanation and apology. Then, without another word, you bolted through the doors, past the remaining parents who were still talking in the lobby, and into the rain.

The rain beat down on you as you sprinted through the streets, the cold droplets stinging your skin as the thunder rumbled overhead. You couldn’t focus on anything but getting home. Adira needs me. Adira needs me.The mantra repeated in your head with each pounding step. Your feet splashed through puddles, the air heavy with the scent of wet pavement and the growing tension in your chest.

It felt like forever as you raced through the downpour, but at last, you reached the building, heart hammering in your chest. You fumbled with your keys, every second feeling like an eternity as the thunder rumbled louder, closer. Hurry, you told yourself, voice shaky as you turned the key and shoved the door open.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

The air felt thick, and as you stepped inside, your eyes instantly darted to the living room.  

On the couch, Simon was sitting with Adira curled up in his side, wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket. Her little body was nestled against his, her small form practically hidden in the folds of the soft fabric. On the coffee table in front of them were the remnants of their quiet afternoon—plastic plates with pizza stains, her sippy cup placed haphazardly next to the mess. Around them, the stack of books you always read to her was scattered across the table: I Love You to the Moon and Back, The Koala Who Could, What Color is a Kiss?—books that had been a staple in your bedtime routine for as long as you could remember.

The sight of them—Adira calm, safe, resting against Simon—caught you off guard. You’d expected panic, chaos, something more… uncertain. But instead, the two of them looked peaceful. Simon’s hand was gently resting on her back, his other arm loosely around her as she drifted in and out of sleep, her head nestled against his chest. She was calm. And that... that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

You hadn’t expected Simon to be so… natural with her. He’d stepped up in a way you didn’t think was possible, at least not this soon. Maybe you had underestimated him. Maybe—no, you knew—you had underestimated this. 

Simon, with Adira, was something real.

Hi so, this took a while, wanted to make this really long for yall. For me as im writing this, it's 5 AM! I've been working on this since 1 PM yesterday. Long Fics are not my strongpoint, I had so much trouble with this because I'm a perfectionist and my tiny brain often repeats words ALOT. I'm working on it and the best way to improve is to keep writing.

As things currently go, I may write shorter things for this family, I want to develop Adira and Simon's relationship more just not with super long stuff like this. I'd also would love to answer any questions or talk about headcanons anyone has about them. Feel free to send asks!

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed and by the time this goes up I'm sure I'll still be asleep!

P.S can someone tell me if I do tags wrong, like ive noticed sometimes when I tag it doesn't have the little underline so I keep thinking it doesn't go through </3

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[talaok]

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”

[sugarverse]

𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣

word count: 4.8k

dilf!tenya iida x babysitter!reader

warning: dilf! iida, praise!kink, size!kink, pet names, smut like almost immediately, iida is 43 yummy. reader is 22 and in school :) listen headcanons are headcanons if you don't like it, scram 👵🏾🤜🏾

It was almost 8pm on a Wednesday. Not that you minded, but your boss wasn’t the type for such late plans. What could be the reason he’s leaving? Does he have a date? You question, a small frown coming to your face as you packed some things to study over at his house. His daughter was probably one of the coolest 4 year olds you had ever babysat, well mannered and just a world of silly. There would be times you had to remind Ingenium there was still pink paint on his nails, or that he had glitter all over one of his ties because Melody thought “dad needed some fairy magic!”. You knock on the door to their home, fumbling with your rings. It was still very nerve racking to stand in front of such a big house. You weren't used to it, but the pay was something you could get used to.

"Good evening y/n, Sorry I needed you on such short notice. They told me there are some after action reviews that hadn't been updated..." He grumbled, a vein from stress in his forehead as he forced a smile through the annoyance. He pushed his glasses up, shaking his head to himself before pulling out his wallet and counting a few 20s in front of you. He handed it to you with a more sincere smile. “Thank you for always being there when I need you, y/n.”

Before you could answer, you hear a pair of small footsteps running down the hall towards you. “Y/nnnn!!” Melody comes running up to you, fake fries in one hand while a barbie was dragged in the other. She put her arms up to the best of her abilities, offering her fries out to you. 

You smile wide at the little girl, quickly folding the money and sliding it into the pocket of your bag and taking the fries. “These look so good! Do you have anything else for me?” The little girl nodded, running away to go find more.

"Take your time, I brought stuff to catch up on while me and Melody hang out!” You begin to set up in the dining room, sliding your shoes off at the door. It was spotless aside from the dollhouse next to the television, there were all kinds of toys hanging around it but what else could you expect?

He let out a deep chuckle before his wrist caught his attention. He huffed, poking around on the new Apple Watch he bought not too long ago. "I'll be back as soon as I can, it's just to refill out reports from lord knows how long ago." He was clearly irritated, mood changing as his daughter came running down the hall once more. 

He kneeled down to kiss Melody on the forehead, giving her a big hug. She hugged back, giggling and handing him the fake food as well. “Are you gonna play too?”

He frowned for a moment, shaking his head no. “Daddy has to go to work for a little bit. He'll be right back, But Miss l/n is going to have the best time with you.” He smiled, watching his daughter cheer and hug you next. He stood, wiping his knees off and leaning in to talk to you. “There's money on the table to order anything you're hungry for, I should be back in two hours.” And with that, he left.

It didn't take long for the toddler to get tired, only about an hour in and she was letting you tuck her in. You turned on her nightlight for her, watching stars cover the ceiling from the pillowpet she had. Her room was so colorful, you could just tell he'd do anything for her. It was incredibly sweet. You leave her door cracked upon her request, walking back into the living room to get started on your work. You put your hair up and out of your face, making sure everything was put away before you sat cross-legged in front of the glass coffee table before you.

The main reason you had been babysitting for The Turbo Hero, Ingenium, was to pay off the hell that is college. He paid you almost a thousand a week for watching his daughter. It wasn't like you didn't love her! She was easy to take care of. Never cried a lot, says funny stuff, lets you do her hair instead of running.. But the first reason had always been the money. Now? It might have been seeing her father come home with ruffled hair from combing his hands through it so much throughout the day.  Always in such an unresting state, irritated from the world just to come home and be so loving towards his daughter.. and quite frankly, you. There would be times you cooked for him as well as his daughter,  those were the nights he said he'd be home by a certain time and couldn't be.. which happened more than once a month. He always repaid you with more than just money, not that it was a big deal. You repeatedly told him it wasn't. But he was raised better than that. Other nights when he'd come home earlier, he'd ask you to stay for dinner.  Melody loved when you stayed longer so why wouldn't he?

Maybe he felt the same way I did?  You thought to yourself. Who am I kidding, Hes a Pro-Hero, he seems so engrossed with being perfect and keeping an outstanding reputation.. There was no way! He was older anyway, what would he want with his 22 year old babysitter.. You bit the sides of your mouth subconsciously, trying to focus rather than doodling in the margins and thinking of your boss. It was unprofessional. But that still didn't stop you from showing up in shorter clothes, wearing lip gloss from time to time to see if anything in the air changed. A man with money was the dream. But a man with money, a sweet heart, and towers over you? That's a different kind of blessing.

Tenya sat at his desk, groaning quietly as he slid a rough hand over the tip of his cock to cover it in his own precum. It helped the friction and helped him distress.. plus there was hardly time to unwind except in the comfort of his office. It was almost embarrassing. He let out a low groan, bucking his hips into his hand as he threw his head back. Teeth bit harshly on a navy blue tie, letting his mind wander. He had met hundreds of people throughout his life.. but no one as gorgeous.. As heavenly as his babysitter. Now that was embarrassing. The way he'd have to hide his erection when you wear that specific skirt, or the way he couldn't help but stare when your tits were out. 

Did you care that he could see? Did you just need someone to put you in your place? He thought about how he wouldn't mind.. bending that pretty little ass over his lap until you'd had trouble sitting for days. Maybe it would knock the common sense right back into that little brain of yours.There was no way you dressed like that by accident. The more he genuinely thought about it, the faster his hand moved.

Shuttering at the thought of you, he shut his eyes tightly. Thinking about the times you wore those too short shorts, Or being bent over to grab the remote that mysteriously fell as soon as he got there and had been ‘too far’ under the couch. Seeing you in those pretty blue panties you wore. It was on fucking purpose wasn't it? God. Why has it taken so long to put it together? He sees the looks you give him but he just thinks its in admiration and he could be confusing it but.. now he's sure that's not all behind your eyes.

He bit harder onto his tie, feeling his cock twitch as he came onto the bottom of his desk. His head began to spin, Having held in that orgasm a bit too long. He gave a small huff as he spit out his tie, looking down at his mess. He groaned, going to clean his mess with a tissue as he tucked himself back into his boxers. He was going to have a talk with you when he came home. He couldn't help bouncing his leg impatiently after cleaning up his mess. He just couldn't stop thinking about you. The little things.. like touching more than his hand to get his attention, touching his thigh to lean over and grab the remote. You had to have known you were being such a tease.. how could he be so blinded to see it.

By the time he was on the way home, You had gotten some studying done… Along with ordering food, washed some clothes for his daughter, emptied the dishwasher, and vacuumed. After counting what he had given you? You felt the extra things were almost necessary. You heard the keys jingle from the other side of the door as the lock finally clicked, watching the door open. And there was Ingenium, disheveled with eyes glossed over from under those sharp square glasses.. Tie already loose and the top buttons of his dress shirt undone. 

“I'm sorry I didn't think it'd take..” He started before you cut him off, smiling and starting to close your notebook for school. 

“You don't have to apologize, Mr. Ii-..Tenya.” He had corrected you on it before, using first names was fine to make you feel more comfortable around him. It just wasn't often that you needed to say a name at all. You could hear him sliding his shoes off at the door, setting the keys in a bowl. He locked it after him as always, setting his tie against the couch as he undid his sleeve buttons.

"Do you mind staying a bit longer? I need to talk to you." He shined a smile at you as he watched you nod, you had just begun to get up but your butt landed right back in the spot you'd been in. He walked past the couch and to his daughter's room, shutting it slowly so it didn't wake her. He then went across the hall to his own room to change into something comfier than a suit and tie.

It didn't take him long to change into an old white t-shirt, gray and black checkered pajama pants hanging onto his long legs. He walked into the living room, pulling his glasses off and wiping his face with his hand. "Y/n.?" He put his glasses back on to focus on your pretty grin, watching your thighs press themselves together as you sat up to prove he had every ounce of your attention.

"Your clothes are always very.." He huffed, looking up at the ceiling fan before right back at you. In your eyes, this time. "Your clothes are often too short for appropriate attire. It seems like every week or so your clothes get shorter and shorter. Are you trying to get my attention? Because now you have it." He couldn't believe the last few words coming from his mouth. Did he sound like a pervert talking to you like this? He wasn't trying to jump so far. He was just trying to let you know you really do have his attention. It's hard to focus as the day goes on, he thinks about you so much.. he thinks about what you'd say in certain situations, what kinda things you'd like when he stops for lunch. There have been plenty of times where you needed to accompany his pretty girl for the beginning of a field trip and he met in the middle of the day. You both would stay and Melody would have a ball.. He really couldn't stand when you weren't around.

You could feel your face flush, looking down at your outfit and tugging your shirt up slightly to cover your chest better.  "I.. I wasn't meaning to- It's just been very.. hot." That had some truth to it but your voice still cracked. Although it was hot, it didn't take away from the fact you were trying to at least see if he was into you.  Maybe he's not into-

"Come here, y/n." He stood with his arms crossed, his chest puffed out slightly. His ruby eyes followed your body until you stopped in front of him, watching you nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

"Do you think I don't notice when you bend over?" He grabbed your jaw with a large calloused hand, attempting to be gentle with firmness to his words. "How you look at me?" He could feel the blood rush to your face, not letting his eyes leave yours at this point. He leaned down a bit, not wanting to tower over and intimidate you too much. He wasn't actually upset. In fact…

"Do you think I could have you?" The Pro-Hero leaned down even more, rubbing his index finger across your bottom lip. He let his thumb and middle finger pucker your lips from gripping your face just a bit harder, feeling you nod in his hand as response. 

“p..please..” Was all you really could muster out before he slid his index finger into your mouth. You could hear him mumble some sort of praise, giving your temple a small kiss.

He didn't care about the small whimper you let out, loosening his grip on your face to slide in his middle finger. "Suck, sweetheart.." Letting the pads of his fingertips brush over your tongue sloppily. He watched as you involuntarily drooled all over your chin and his hand. "Good girl. You're so obedient for me already.." Tenya grazed his fingers over your teeth before shoving them deeper into your mouth, seeing you gag a bit with a smirk. 

You didn't mind the feeling, staring up at him as he began to stand up straight. He watched your pretty eyes fill with a few tears, starting to gag once again. You could feel him pull the digits from your mouth and replace them with his thumb. He cupped the side of your face and gave you a kiss on the opposite temple. "You're just so gorgeous." You shivered at the thought of him, Letting a few tears spill as you attempted to blink them away before trying to pull away from his hand. 

"I.. I wanna kiss.." You spoke quietly, feeling him tap the side of your face with his index finger. He let his 6'5 frame tower over you for a few extra seconds, leaning back down to press his lips against yours. You whimpered into his mouth before wrapping your arms around his neck since you were still having trouble reaching him. He lifted you into his arms, his hands holding your under thighs as he walked towards his bedroom. You slid your tongue into his mouth first, before he followed suit. 

You let out soft moans, squeezing him between your legs even tighter. You tried not to bite his tongue, sucking and swirling around it as you felt him sit onto his bed, pulling away only for a moment to leave room for words. "Are you okay with this y/n? Do you want this to go any further?" He cupped your face softly once more, breathing uneven and heavy but you knew by his tone that he meant it. "We can always stop my darling, I'd never wanna make you uncomfortable.."

You nod, scrambling to speak instead so he knew you were for certain. "Yes sir.. I want you.” You gave him a smile, watching as he kissed down your neck. You let out a happy sigh, squirming impatiently. He got the message, stripping your curves of the thin clothing that clung onto you.

His face burned at the sight of you, holding you closer to him by your hips. You could see him twitch inside of his pants, hands going to massage his scalp. He leaned into your touch for a moment, sighing in mostly relief as you slid to your knees and helped him out of his pajamas. 

“You're so sweet to me Tenya.. I'm so glad I can finally show you how much it means..” You teased, eyes focused on the navy blue trail with sprinkles of gray led down toward his cock. You started to feel nervous, looking at his length and then back up to his face. which was bright red, his mouth covered by his hand as his glasses hung from the edge of his nose. It sure was a sight to see. 

“Look at what you do to me, y/n..” He teased, his cock visibly twitching from the cold air in his home. You stared at him for a moment, feeling your legs press together tightly before sitting up on your knees.

You started closer to the base, licking upward to his tip before trying to fit him into your mouth. He rested a hand behind your head, massaging your scalp as you took as much as you could down your throat. He didn't want to force you, but he couldn't stand not watching you struggle. 

You started slow, bobbing your head and using your hand to make up for what couldn't fit in your mouth.  He let out a drawn out sigh,  head tilted back in enjoyment as he took a fistful of your hair. “You take me so w..well..” He laughed nervously, breathing starting to get uneven as you sped up. he didn't expect it, but gladly enjoyed it. He started shoving your head down gently, not pushing with much force but definitely pushing. 

You gag, rushing to move away from his cock before he told your head still. “Breathe- Breathe through your nose, pretty girl. ..That's it. Look up at me, hm?” He pulled your hair, tilting your head back enough that he could see those pretty brown eyes.

You blinked the tears out of your eyes, doing as asked. Your head spun from the lack of oxygen, but it was worth it to see him moan and buck at your touch. Especially when he talked so.. properly. And here you were, watching him crumble.

His mind was fuzzy. Thoughts everywhere as he let out noises of pleasure. Rocking his hips against his bed slightly to reach deeper in your throat. Once he reached where he wanted, he let out a sharp gasp. You watched his face contort, shoving your head down roughly as he chased his own orgasm selfishly. 

You moved your hands onto his legs, nails digging into muscled thighs as he abused your throat. You shut your eyes tightly, slobbering as gags and gulps came from you. He came quickly after speeding up, letting you go as you pushed away from his length. You cough, swallowing what you could as your tears fell onto the floor. It was a lot more than you thought, but definitely worth it.

Your nose scrunched at the taste, wiping your droll from your bottom lip with the back of your hand. You stared up at him, watching his cock twitch and stay hard even after all that. You whined at the sight, thinking about how sore your jaw is going to be. Before you can continue, he moved to sit up. He wiped the fucked look from his face, “Get on top of me, sweetheart.”

You got up slowly, feeling your legs shaking from sitting on them for so long. You ignored the ache, climbing over him and hovering over him carefully. Your eyes drifted to the detailing in his room, trying not to be too nervous. He held your hips to steady you, kissing your collarbone and leaning in to inhale your scent. 

He felt like it was almost addictive, nibbling and leaving small red kisses over your breasts. “Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away and looking up at you. His glasses were still tilted, trying to see you through the little bits he could.

You nod, hiding in his shoulder with a nervous laugh. “It's just a um.. a lot. is all..” You muster out, feeling his tip rub against your slit and against your entrance. He chuckled nervously,  rubbing your waist and ass slowly.

“You can do it my pretty girl. Come on, Try..” He pulled away from your chest, looking up at you to let you know how serious he was. If you couldn't do it, he'd stop and just eat you out. He gave you time to get used to it as he pushed in, watching your back arch and you squirm in his arms. He mumbled praises against your skin before bottoming out inside of you.

Your mouth hung open, whining at the friction. “O..Oh fuck- ohmygod..” You dig your nails into his shoulders until you feel comfortable enough to move, moans coming from both of you as you readjusted yourself. He rubbed your back in circles, letting you sit as long as you needed.

“That's it, like that..” He kissed your temple, feeling you slowly raise yourself and lower back onto him. His eyes fluttered, trying to concentrate on you. He hugged your waist tightly, grinding you down against him so your clit was simulated too. After a moment he decided you were moving too slow, bucking his hips up into you. “Come on y/n, Don't give up on me now. You can take it,” He encouraged, watching your face contort with pleasure. 

You could feel his skin under your nails as you drug them upwards against his shoulders. It was truly a lot. “I..Im trying sir..” You stutter out, biting your bottom lip and moving faster. He adored how gorgeous you were in his arms, wincing at your sharp nails and practically drooling as he pushed his face into your tits. You could feel his cold glasses smoosh against your skin, tangling manicured hands into his hair and holding him close.

It was definitely more intimate than you imagined, listening to the sounds your body made as you held each other so close. It was different from any other time you had had sex, besides what.. Maybe your first time? It felt nice for someone to be so loving behind it. He looked up at you, leaving small amateur hickeys for someone older than you. He moved his hands down to the curve of your ass, Big hands grip your ass, helping you take it just a bit more by moving into you at the same time. You were almost seeing stars.

“Does that..” He panted out, head moving back slightly so words could escape.  “Feel better?” He soaked in your facial expressions, watching you nod slowly and lay your head on his shoulder. He'll take care of you from here, you didn't have to overdo it. 

He made sure to stay steady, moving from your tits to stare into your eyes. He listened to your cunt squelch, looking down at your sexes before back at you. Your puffy lips tried to stay locked with his but you couldn't help but be loud. You hid your face into his shoulder to muffle yourself before he pushed you to sit down fully. “Let me see you angel, Just C..Cover your mouth..” He gave your temple another soft kiss, feeling you slowly sit back up to cover your mouth. 

Tenya stared at you with lust clouded eyes and a smirk. He groaned, tilting your hips upwards. He began doing all the work to fuck into you, wanting to watch come undone as he abused that poor sensitive spot so you could finally finish.  You covered your mouth with both hands, feeling as if the room was spinning as he held onto you. You tried your hardest to stay quiet, thighs already aching from the vast difference between your laps. 

You get louder behind your own hands, eyes rolling back as you came hard against his cock. Your body began to shake, laying your head onto his shoulder and staying in his touch. He stayed inside of you, letting out a deep chuckle. He stood with you in his arms slowly, turning to lay you on the bed instead. “Look at that pretty face.. I knew you'd make such expressive faces..” He held your legs against his chest as he slammed into you once more.

You raised your back off of the mattress, nails gripping onto the soft blue sheets. Your knuckles turned white, moaning into the pillow beside you. He held your ankle with his hand for a moment, kissing your legs softly as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. “Faster– ah sh..shit- harder..” You whine softly, trying to hold him closer with your legs. 

Iida was obviously close for a second time, his brow twitching as he concentrated on reaching deeper inside of you. He hugged your legs at your knees and slid your hips up towards his own. He moaned against your soft brown skin, kissing your calf. He began snaking a hand down your thigh, rubbing your clit so the two of you could cum together this time. You shut your eyes tightly, moaning into your hand or into his shoulder whichever was closest when you needed it. He sped up like you asked, watching you squirm under him with a very satisfied look in his eyes.

"Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me..” He stopped moving, holding your hips to stay still against his. He lightly touched your clit as he spoke, watching your eyes struggle to look up at him. “I want you to cum, y/n.. Watch you come undone for me..” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before continuing his movements once more.

He let out low groans and grunts into your skin, hips moving desperately against yours. He stared into your eyes, strong hands keeping your knees pinned to damn near your shoulders. Your hands found their way to his back, tapping it slightly to let him know you were close like he wanted. Shoving his lips against yours, you could feel him slam into that spot before coming to a halt. You could feel him twitch inside of you, earning a whine as you came against his cock as well.

You clung to him as tight as you could, shaking from the stimulation as he slowly pulled your legs down. He chuckled, making sure to be slow when pulling out. “I..” He stuttered, ears turning pink as he stared down at the mess you two had made. “I couldn't help myself.. Apologies..” He said nervously, looking up at your face and holding it in his hands gently.

“Are you alright, angel?” He asked with genuine concern. You nodded, arms loosely hanging around his neck. He smiled, kissing your cheek and pulling away to stand. He lifted you into his arms, resting you against his abdomen as he walked down the hall. “Let's get you cleaned up..”

“My thighs are sore..” You mumble from his shoulder, giggling quietly and drawing swirls onto his soft skin. He frowned slightly, turning to kiss your cheek as he stared into the tub. He gave you a quick kiss, turning the hot water on and resting you on the side of the tub. 

“I'm sorry– Is that a good thing or bad?” He asked as he searched for towels in the linen closet. Once he found one, he wiped off his fogging glasses and grabbed some soap to pour into the tub. He wanted you to be as relaxed as possible, especially since none of this was planned and normally he is much more gentlemanly about wanting to have sex. Maybe he was overthinking it.

You shook your head no, giggling once more and leaning up to give his arm a kiss. “I prefer to be left that way..” You tease, watching his face turn all pink again. He set his glasses down on the counter next to the towels and continued to make the water juuuuust right. 

You spun your legs around, the smell of lavender filled the room. He stopped the water, kissing your temple and rubbing your back. You felt the warmth cover your body, sinking down into the big bathtub. You let your head stay above water, giggling and watching him get in as well.

This was something you could get used to.

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the bomb ass art boarders! will def be using them more :)

and thank you @fizziedoodle for the moodboard !!

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[blue-boulder]

house md in 2020s headcanons

keep seeing people make these and i thought it was silly, so here’s my contributions:

- house finds wilson’s account on grindr and decides to catfish him. once the jig is up they silently decide to never acknowledge this again

- comphet cameron. nonnegotiable

- foreman has and posts somewhat frequently on instagram threads. nobody finds out because nobody else has threads

- before working at princeton-plainsboro taub specialized in BBLs

- house livestreams DDXs to put more pressure on the ducklings when he feels as though they’re underperforming. he has a decent amount of followers on twitch

- also i’m not sure how hospitals ran during the pandemic but i think at least one DDX during covid was conducted through among us. don’t ask me the logistics of that

- a few of chase’s old musical.ly videos resurface and he gets bullied for it relentlessly

- thirteen was one of the first people to reblog the weed smoking girlfriends post

- house and wilson watch love is blind, the ultimatum, love island, etc etc when skipping clinic duty & place bets on which couples are going to last and which aren’t

- despite dating at the time cuddy went to see oppenheimer and lucas went to see the barbie movie. at the same time in different theatres

- house makes a joke about someone having blue hair and pronouns. also that one post about how he spends two hours researching every pronoun in existence just to use the wrong one on someone would be real

- wilson listens to either broadway soundtracks on his way to work or hozier, no in between. he uses spotify but refuses to look at his wrapped out of fear

[januaryembrs]

WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [10]

description: the one with Cat Adams + the one where she tells him.

length: 13k

warnings: literally just watch 11x11, mention of vomit, blood, alcoholism. mention of pregnant wives??

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

‘who’s afraid of little old me?

you should be,’

She remembered when she was little when she would wake up so early even the birds hadn’t uttered a morning chirp, her stomach grumbling because she usually hated the fancy stuff they had for dinner and ended up leaving it on her plate. She remembered thinking her mother would be no use, that Elizabeth would tell her to go straight back to bed, even if she whined and cried that she wanted breakfast, remembered thinking Louise, the au pair that usually took the morning shift, wouldn’t be in for another hour or so, and she certainly wasn’t tall enough to reach the cabinets yet. 

Which left her with Emily. 

Nineteen year old Emily, who was already in and out of the house with college, her hair a box dyed black, singed from all the crimping and hair spray. Emily, who liked to take her to the park even if she pretended she was too old, who played Barbies with her and helped her cut all their hair off probably because she figured that was better than her constant urge to do whacky things with her own locks. Emily, who had never wanted a little sister really until Elizabeth had brought home the carrier and suddenly she had never loved ten chubby fingers and toes so much.

She remembered waking Emily up, usually by pulling herself up onto her sister’s Mötley Crüe themed bedding and prodding at the girl’s shoulder until she stirred, how Emily would lead her down the long, ornate hallway into the kitchen, when the only sound in the house would be their bare feet padding along the cold tiles. How Emily would yank two bowls out of the cupboard, tipping a generous dose of coco pops in each of them, back when they were full of sugar and real chocolate, not the healthy crap they sold nowadays. 

It would just be the two of them at the breakfast table, crunching on their spoons, five year old Bugsy no doubt dribbling the brown milk down her chin and pyjama top, but she was happy. Because she had her big sister.

She stared down at the dregs of cocoa that whirled into the white milk as the cereal sat there longer, because she was only picking at it really, and it had nothing to do with the fact she was almost certain they had changed the recipe since she was little. 

“I was thinking,” She said after a moment or so, while Spencer pottered around the kitchen, fixing them both a pot of coffee that she usually was usually bouncing over to grab at this point in the morning. Except today she felt sluggish, lost in that maze of thoughts that only Spencer could really unpick, and the second she’d started speaking his head whipped over the counter to where she idly stirred her breakfast, “About what you said when Gideon… We could probably afford to start looking at buying a house soon, what with the mortgage rates dropping,” 

She looked up at him hopefully, hoping he couldn’t sense the hesitation on her breath because he usually knew what she was thinking before she said anything, and for once she wished he didn’t have that crazy ability to read her mind, only to see him with a small if not saddened smile. 

When Gideon had passed, Spencer had gotten in his head that they needed to leave the apartment, that if the Jason Gideon could have been caught unaware, then they weren’t safe either. Of course he hadn’t meant it, at least not entirely, but Gideon passing had spun the logic half of his brain that spouted the statistics that they were no more in danger now than they were before he’d gone, but still it was something he’d been thinking about. A house meant more space; more space meant they could stop tripping over each other's laundry, meant they could get the bigger shower they’d always talked about, maybe even a tub. A house meant the garden he knew he always wanted Niko and Sergio to have now they were grey around the whiskers and couldn’t run so fast. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Spencer said, picking up their mugs of steaming hot goodness and carefully stepping towards her, gently sliding the drink over to her as the liquid sloshed and threatened to dip over the edge, “Is there any place you want to look?” 

He left his own mug in favour of circling his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a soft hug, her head falling beneath his chin where she sat on the barstool. 

Kissing her hairline gently, she heard him inhale her shampoo scent, and she plonked her spoon back in the bowl to wrap her arms around his waist, squeezing herself into every crevice that they weren’t already touching. 

“I don’t care,” She said, tilting her head to look up at him with love sick eyes, only to see him already besottedly gazing at her, and she guessed by the way his lips draw up at the corners that he didn’t realise he was still smiling, “Anywhere with you is good enough for me,” 

He looked down at her in that way he usually did, expression soft and sweet and entranced, but she saw the traces of worry in his gaze, “You feeling okay? Today is going to be… hard,” 

Bugsy’s expression faltered slightly, and she turned away to push her face into his stomach so he wouldn’t see the doubt lingering in her eyes. She nodded anyway, even though she knew he would catch her in the lie.

After Scratch, Hotch had ordered her to take three months off for a psych evaluation, had granted Spencer at least a month of holiday to watch over her because he knew Reid’s head would be all over the place with worry if he’d returned to work without her. It was like asking Garcia to leave her computers and fluffy pens at home; it just wouldn’t work. 

By the time she was cleared to come back, despite the recurring nightmares of that day still eating away at her sleep, Hotch had set her up to work solely from the office, strictly no field work.

He liked to think it was for her own safety, for her own good since he saw the way she pounded coffee like it was juice while Spencer lingered around her with a worried stare. But if he had to be honest with himself, Hotch couldn’t get away from the things Scratch had made him see just as much as she couldn’t. He couldn’t escape seeing her throat slit like she was a lamb for slaughter, the life leaving her eyes as she faded away. And it was the thought of her carotid artery spraying over his boots that made him want to lock her up in bubble wrap and never let her go. 

But that was feasible in their job, not really. So desk duty it was. 

“You don’t have to go with us into the field, you can always stay with Hotch and Garcia,” He offered, stroking her hair behind her ear and tempting her to look back up at him with gentle fingertips under her chin, and when she saw the unease in the muddy hues, she squeezed him tighter, knowing the past five months had been just as hard on him. 

“No, I want to,” She protested gently, her hands weaselling under his shirt and onto the warm, soft skin of his back, pawing at him like a cat trying to settle. “If you’re being made this woman’s number one target, I want to be there on stand by,” 

And he couldn’t really argue. Because no matter what frame of mind he was in, even if it had been him captured and tortured, he would never let her go out as bait and not be there breathing down her neck. 

He sighed, the urge to protest stuck in his throat and all he could think to do was bring his lips to hers gently in a soft kiss, because his resistance to her being put in the line of danger would only be futile. 

She hummed into the kiss, his hands skirting over her back and she swore she would be content if the rest of her life was spent in Spencer’s arms, in the warm mornings at their kitchen table just the two of them, and the idea of that last part spun her stomach into turmoil all over again. 

What if he freaked out? No, scratch that, he was definitely going to freak out. Spencer hated change, hated having things dropped on him, and Diana was already getting worse with the symptoms of Alzheimers she had begun presenting. He had more than enough on his plate as it was, and she knew she was the only thing that could keep his head from exploding with the worry, even if she was sometimes the cause of it. He’s always been a worrier, and part of her despised herself for the fact that he had shot out of bed every single night she’d been in the midst of a night terror, when the room spun and Peter Lewis seemed so real and so close and she woke up screaming. Because she’d brought him enough stress and trouble, and now she had an extra helping of it dished up and ready. 

It wasn’t one of those things she could keep to herself, not even if she so desperately wanted to sit on it and mull it over for a few months. She needed to tell him soon. 

Spencer looked down at her eyes, the way they’d glazed over slightly, and he wished he could crawl into the space where her thoughts bounced between one another if it meant he could figure out what had gotten her so twisted up the past few weeks. She hadn’t been herself entirely since Scratch, but she had been getting better. She’d started getting more sleep, seemed less jumpy when they were in the quiet of their apartment, and part of him thought maybe that was why she wanted to look at houses. A fresh start. And yet overnight, she’d had this guilty look in her eye like she was suddenly a million miles away, and he hated it. Bugsy had never been distant, which seemed odd to think considering she was burying her hands and face into him like she had no intention of letting him leave. But there was something in the depths of her brilliantly big mind that seemed to hold her tongue for her.

He kissed her again, hoping it was all in his head, hoping she wouldn’t keep things from him because it was them and they always told each other everything. Even if it was gross and weird and inappropriate, everything. 

And he thought maybe it was because he was going on a date with another woman, using himself as live bait to flirt and charm and seduce an assassin in order to take her into custody without fuss. Yeah, that was probably it. He couldn’t say he would be all too pleased if it had been the other way around and he would be watching her ravish another man even if it was just for the job. 

That was definitely it. There couldn’t be anything else. 

“You know I love you,” He said as a statement, yet she nodded as though it was a question, and he kissed her again because he’d regretted not doing it a hundred times a day the second he’d seen her in that closet, regretted not seeing the fact she was more than likely uncomfortable with her boyfriend of two years wining and dining a murderer. “Whatever I say when I’m there with her, you know I love you, more than I could ever love anything else,” 

He seemed so sincere, his eyes turning into that soft puppy like frown, and it only served to drive the knife in deeper as she nodded, her hands wrapping into his hair and pulling him down to kiss her again, this time just a little harder like his lips could wipe away the pit in her stomach. Because it was Spencer, and she was lying by omission, and god did she need him to know how much she loved him before things went wrong and they changed and-

“We have a little time right?” She said, his hands taking the hint as they pulled her to her feet gently, cereal long forgotten in a chocolate slush, and his hands reached down to cup her ass in the way he was more than used to doing now. Didn’t stop him from blushing however. 

“Y-yeah we have time,” He said, and she barely let him finish his sentence before she’d claimed his mouth again, not that he was complaining. She looped her fingers through his belt buckle, stepping backwards with his guidance towards their bedroom, and he hummed through a moan when he felt her run the other hand through his already messy bedhead, tugging on the ends of his curls gently.

“Good,” She responded, with a drop of that natural Bugsy cheekiness he was used to, and the sound of it made him smile. Maybe it was just the job after all, “I think I need a demonstration on just how much you don’t mean whatever you need to say to her,” 

He smirked, because she was more like herself than she had been in days, and god was she pretty when she smiled at him before they had sex, like she knew what was coming, like she knew what she did to him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear his heart thumping in her ears just as clearly as he could. 

“I think you’ll need multiple demonstrations,” He said, his fingers looping in between her buttons on her trousers and popping them apart softly because they’d done this before, rushed it so they weren’t late for work, and ended up ripping good jeans, “Gather multiple sets of data before you draw a conclusion,” 

He kissed down her neck and her small laugh became a moan, “I think it’s pretty much the only way, Doctor Reid,”

He laughed, and she felt it against her pulse, the sound of it making her shiver as he shoved the door open with little remorse for the way it slammed into the wall. And she made a promise to herself that once they’d caught their UnSub, she would tell him, even if it meant all of this would change. 

–

He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, his suit steamed and neat, a single red rose in his hand. His skin was already crawling at the idea of flirting with another woman, but Spencer knew none of it was real, knew he was just doing his job. Still it didn’t diminish the desire to glance where Bugsy and Rossi were sat in a booth, because he’d seen her in that red dress a thousand times before, and yet it still made his jaw drop the second he saw her in it.  

The brief had been black tie, something to fit in with the five star restaurant, and god had she delivered. He ought to have protested, told her that she was too distracting and maybe insisted she stayed in the office if she looked so striking, but then again she could have worn a bin bag for all he cared, he would still be fighting the urge to look over at her. 

He chose the seat with Bugsy at his back as to eliminate his urge to stare at her, because Dave could keep her safe, the rest of his team could watch her, he had to trust that. 

He lay the rose on the other side of the table, fiddling with the other parts of the cutlery to make sure everything looked perfect, even though in his mind he was thinking of all the things Bugsy would have been saying if she was his date tonight. She probably would have made a comment on his suit (she already had before they’d even stepped out the hotel, just as he’d given her arse a quick squeeze with cheeks even more crimson than her dress because she looked divine), probably would have offered to go to the in-and-out down the street instead because she never cared about splashing out on dates, just being with him was enough. 

Adjusting his jacket a little, he waited, trying to keep his head far away from his girlfriend, although that was much easier said than done. He couldn’t remember what his brain was like before it was filled with thoughts of her.

The ring sat in his sock drawer, buried in one of his older pairs that he hoped she wouldn’t go after since he’d made the mistake of putting it in with his boxers and almost got caught within a day when she went to steal some ready for bed and he’d chided himself for the sloppy work. He knew he wanted to ask her, thought he might even bring her to a fancy place like this, maybe prepare a small speech that attempted to tell her how much she meant to him even though he knew there wasn’t enough words for such a thing. Would he hide it in the cake? No that would be cheesy, she found cheesy overdone. Would she even like it done in public? No, she would hate that, he would wait until they got home, maybe even try that thing she’d wanted to do in bed for a few weeks, and then when they were done-

“Spencer?” A woman appeared at the table, a woman who by all accounts was objectively pretty, yet he felt that small kick of victory when he recognised her from the FBI database. 

Cat Adams. Assassin. Mastermind. UnSub. 

“Cat?” He said with practised naivety, and this time he forced all thoughts of his loving girlfriend from his head like they were about to be tainted by the woman standing in front of him, “Hi,”

“Hi,” She replied, her grin too bright and sparkly for anyone to ever guess she was a killer though he supposed that was the point,

“Hello, it’s nice to finally-” He cut himself off when she leaned up to hug him, her face drawing closer to his suddenly and she looked like she was gearing up for a peck on the lips. Forward. Much more forward than he’d given her credit for, and his stomach flipped in discomfort as he leaned away, “Oh s-sorry, I have kind of a germ thing,” He excused, which wasn’t a total lie. 

Also my girlfriend is sat ten feet away and I can already hear her clenching a fork ready to ball your eyes out like a melon, he wanted to say, though he kept his snark to himself. 

“Oh, sorry,” Cat said, holding her hands up in surrender, and looking up at him with what he knew to be false innocence. But he played along, because the sooner they caught her, the sooner he could be done with the entire thing.

“I’m kinda weird with hugs,” He explained, his face boyish as he gestured her to take a seat, because at least then he could put some distance between them, “Please, sit down,”

She smiled dizzily, slipping her jacket off to reveal a blue dress that accentuated her pixie short hair, her collar bones that could cut glass, her small, sleek figure, and she adjusted her straps as an excuse to divert his attention to her breasts.

“That’s like the oldest trick in the book, get some new material, bitch,” Bugsy mumbled under her breath, drowning her venom in sparkling apple juice disguised as champagne from where they sat in a dark corner booth and Rossi chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I wouldn’t worry about boy genius having a wandering eye, kid. Reid is more devout than my mother on Easter Sunday,” He said, picking at the starter they’d ordered as a way to seem busy. She hummed, diverting her attention into her chicken salad, making sure she wasn’t looking at the happy couple for too long as they talked awkwardly, “Do you think you could take her?”

“I know I could take her,” Bugsy responded in a clipped tone, and Rossi sniggered, and they heard Tara and Derek do the same down their earpieces. 

“It was a joke,” Cat said, to something they hadn’t quite caught, though by the looks of it they were still just making small talk, “A bad joke,”

“No, no, it was funny,” Spencer said reassuringly, and he chuckled, though Bugsy knew off the bat it was fake because she loved making him laugh and it sounded nothing like that. They fell into an awkward silence and she could hear Spencer scrambling for things to talk about because if she walked away their lead to the other assassin went right with her. 

“Can we start over? Hi, I’m Cat,” The woman said, fixing her skirt with a shy smile. She certainly didn’t seem like a killer, Bugsy thought, where she glanced at her in her peripheral. She certainly was pretty, spritely even. A little too eager to kiss a guy she just met. 

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” He replied, in that nervous tone he usually got when she flustered him. 

“Is it true you have three PHDs?” Cat asked with, well, cat-like eyes flicking between sly and seductive, and Bugsy could see how any man who wasn’t as smart as her boyfriend would fall for the act.

“Yes, that’s true. I do have three PHDs,” 

“What’s your favourite book you read last year?” She pressed and Bugsy sipped her juice to stop herself from answering for him.

“I’ve honestly never read a book I haven’t loved,” He said, deflecting the subject, while his girlfriend smirked into her almost empty plate. 

Demons by Fydor Dostoevsky, she corrected to herself because she knew he’d gone back to it more than a handful of times. 

“Tell me about your wife,” Cat went in for the kill, her timid smile morphing into something wicked as she watched Spencer squirm. 

And the second she’d said it something had reared its ugly head inside him. Because try as hard as he might, all he could think about was Bugsy’s face and that damn ring. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d er…” He cleared his throat, wondering why it was so difficult to get through a single conversation when they’d ran through the plan a million times. He knew she would ask, and yet all he could do was get defensive thinking about Cat damn Adams setting her hands on the woman he wanted desperately to marry, “I’d rather not talk about her,”

“Might as well get it out in the open right? I mean, it’s why we’re here,” She said smugly, like that innocent bounce in her step had wiped right away, revealing the murderess underneath, “How long have you been married?”

“Four years,” He lied, though he thought back to JJ’s wedding that same amount of time ago and how beautiful she looked in her dress and her cast and how he’d wished it was theirs. 

“When is she due to give birth?” Cat’s eyes narrowed at the man, pushing her hair behind her ear in a playful manner. 

Bugsy stopped, licking her lips and hoping Rossi wasn’t watching her as she finished off the last of her sparkling juice, raising a hand to a passing waiter to order a second round. 

“You having another one, Grandpa?” She said innocently, despite the stink eye he gave her and nodding to the non-alcoholic beer he’d ordered. 

“Watch yourself,” He said as the waiter retreated, and she snickered into her meal, “Grandpa will knock you on your ass,” 

“You would never, Hotch would hate that kind of paperwork,” She said setting her cutlery on the side of her plate to signal she was done, “HR would have a field day,”

“I wanna hear you say it,” The line crackled in their ear as Bugsy’s drink arrived at the table, and she couldn’t help but think the woman’s seductive voice could easily pass for a call girl. She chanced a quick look over at their table, her heart rate spiking when she saw the woman all but eye fucking Spencer with a bit of her lip, like the thrill of the chase was half the fun for her, and Bugsy felt the disgust settle in her stomach. 

“To have her killed,” Spence replied, and she looked away then, the bitterness settling on her bottom lip in a sneer. She didn’t think for one second that Spencer would think the woman was alluring, it didn’t make him flirting any easier to watch. 

The UnSub smiled wryly, looking down at his arm, “Let me see your ring,”

Spencer froze, holding his hand out hesitantly, the feeling of the gold band entirely alien on his finger even though he was trying to get used to it for the sake of the case. Cat’s hand shot out like a snake striking, holding his ring in between her perfectly manicured fingers, her eyes roving over the jewel.

“You know what that is?” She said with contempt, shaking her head, “A noose, only it doesn't kill you all at once it kills you slowly, day by day,” 

And he couldn’t have disagreed more, in fact the only thing that was killing him was the fact he had been dumb enough to wait so long to propose to the woman he loved more than life itself. 

Spencer Reid, dumb and in love.

“You ever feel that way?” She said, ripping him out of his thoughts, and he nodded wordlessly, sighing for effect.

“I feel that way all the time” Except his every day was spent wondering just how he ever got so lucky, how he managed to fall in love with the same woman who gave him apple cake when he couldn’t remember the last real meal he’d had because he was three months deep in an opioid addiction and having her look at him like he hung the damn cosmos. 

“Take it off,” She ordered, and Spencer tried flashing her a surprised if not charmed smile, though his hackles were slightly raised, “As a sign of your commitment. To me,” 

He bit his cheek, knowing better than to argue back if he was playing the part of the down beaten husband, and began twisting the gold ring off his wedding finger, handing it over to her expectant palm. 

“If she sticks to the pattern, she’ll take him to a secondary location and then kill him.” JJ observed, sipping on her mocktail in her own fancy, ruffled dress, shooting Tara and Derek a look where they played the part of a sweet couple on a date. 

“I’d like to see the bitch try,” Bugsy said through a wide fake smile, her face showing no symptoms of anger except the flash of teeth. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’re not letting it get that far,” Rossi added, and the two of them clinked their drinks together in a ringing chink, “Hotch, do you two have a visual?”

Penelope confirmed with a few taps of her keyboard, and Hotch nodded as Spencer confirmed with a small flick of his eyes he could hear the feed, ”Alright, all agents stand by. Dr Reid will give the green light, don’t move until we have it,” 

“Twenty four carats?” Cat asked, twisting the ring in between her fingers with a smug grin like she already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” Spencer replied, looking down at the band and back up the soulless dark hues of the black widow woman. 

“Twenty four k times… four years. Means this ring should be dinged and nicked, but,” She huffed, reaching into her purse under the table, and Bugsy damn near spat out her juice when she heard a gun load through the mic, “This sucker is brand new. You’re not married.”

“What was that, was that what I think it was?” Penelope’s stressed tone rushed through the ear piece, and the sound of it plus the smell of the chicken she’d just eaten made Bugsy’s stomach turn again. 

Except this time she felt it coming up into her throat, the same way she’d found herself feeling queasy for a few days. Spencer had thought she had a stomach bug, had tried to get her to stay home with some mint tea, but this was more than the last few times. It was like her anxiety clenched her gut in a tight grip and twisted painfully, and she lurched forward, slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“Kid?” Rossi said, his brows frowning at the expression on her face, and she immediately began untucking her napkin from her chest. 

She needed to make it to the bathroom now, hoped on everything that the sudden movement didn’t distract where Cat held a gun to Spencer’s midriff beneath the table. 

“What is she doing?” Morgan hissed into the mic, while Hotch and Penelope began barking protests. 

“Oh, good lord, Bug, stay down, you don’t know what that psycho is going to do!” Penelope squealed, watching Bugsy rush out of the booth seat, a hand firmly over her lips, and Aaron brought a hand to his head, a splitting headache forming at the sight of the youngest agent rushing for the bathroom. 

“Prentiss, what are you doing, you could blow your cover,” He snapped, though there was no anger there, and she could only switch her mic off for what was about to happen, knowing the team had much bigger things to worry about. 

Bursting the doors open, she dived for the nearest stall and fell to her knees, head in the bowl before she could hock up her guts over the floor, and then came a horrid retching sound. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at the table, hearing his team yelling out orders at the one person he couldn’t keep track of, and it took everything in him not to turn in his seat to investigate for himself what happened for her to flee the safety of the table, or go after her even. Because even if he wanted to, even if he needed nothing more than to make sure she was okay, he couldn’t move an inch. Not with the gun being pointed at all of his important organs by the experienced killer with a smile.

“Do you know why I’m so good at my job?” Cat asked in a sweet tone, her eyes cold and calculating as she cocked the gun beneath the seat. 

“Because you kill without compunction or remorse,” Spencer bit, the flirty look in his expression long gone the second he’d heard the rest of his team calling for his girlfriend. He needed to keep his head, Bugsy was safe so long as she was far away from the woman pointing the gun at him. Having the weapon aiming for him he could deal with. 

“That only gets a girl so far in life,” Cat agreed with a nod, her jaw setting in a hard clench, “No, it’s because I think through every possible outcome and then I plan accordingly,”

And Bugsy’s stomach seized hearing her voice so cold and viscous, and she would give anything to hear her partner flirting with that bitch of a woman if it meant she knew he was safe. She emptied her stomach again right as she heard their UnSub speak once more.

“You see, I didn’t walk into your trap. You walked into mine,”

And with that Bugsy gave another hurl.

–

“Spencer, why did you take time off from the FBI?” Cat insisted, her voice nails on a chalkboard, and he felt the apathy on his face flick into slight annoyance. 

Bugsy. Because Bugsy had been ill, because she hadn’t been sleeping, because she hadn’t been herself for a few months, because his mom had gotten worse, because they needed him. 

Spencer would take the bullet before he ever told her about Bugsy, because he knew for a woman who loved male attention, telling her about the girl he loved most in the world would only draw a big target on her back, and he would never dare to put her at risk. Never again. 

Not a single hair on her head, he’d promised. Not even a scratch. 

“You can ask me as many times as you want but I’m still not going to tell you,” He snipped, making sure to keep his face expressionless if he really wanted to sell the deal that she was a nobody to him.

Her mouth tightened in frustration, “Then you’re cheating, and I don’t like cheaters,”

“You don’t get everything you want just because you’re pointing a gun at me under the table.” He stated blankly, his team waiting on bated breath to see if they needed to send in their back up since JJ’s cover had already been blown. “You’re not the first killer to point a gun at me, you’re not even the first woman to point a gun at me. Sorry.” 

Cat’s smile shifted into something akin to a snarl, and she leaned forward on her elbows, and Spencer matched her challenge with cool ease. “You’re really gonna take this all the way, aren’t you?” 

And Spencer smiled wryly, because her composure was collapsing beneath her, “Yeah,”

“So am I,” 

“Dave, go,” Hotch ordered, and Rossi drew his gun beneath a napkin, shuffling to his feet, “Prentiss, where the hell are you?” 

And she knew she was wasting time, but her stomach had picked the worst time to flip. Perhaps it was the anxiety, or the pressure of a gun being pointed at her love, or maybe it was bad chicken. Either way her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, her legs weak where she’d crouched on the floor, and she chided herself for not being able to pull it together when Spencer needed her. 

And as if her nerves weren’t rattled enough, she heard Spencer’s mic mute out, and she knew then that the time for sticking her head in the bowl and screaming at herself to get up was over. Spencer was in trouble. Two of their agents' cover was blown. With Tara and Derek sitting the opposite end of the restaurant, he was alone if Cat Adams decided to pull that trigger. 

Spitting the rancid taste from her mouth into the toilet, she reached up for the flush, wiping her mouth with a handful of toilet paper. 

“Hotch,” She tuned in, and she heard the sighs of relief as he and Penelope seemed to both ease slightly at hearing her voice, “I’m back, how’s Rossi?”

“His cover’s blown, he’s heading out to find JJ,” Hotch responded, his heart rate in his throat the second he’d heard her sound through. He knew it would be unfair if he pulled her from field work for another three months, but the second she’d disappeared from their screens, he’d already began thinking of the excuse he could give if it meant he knew she was kept out of harm’s way, “Where are you, are you hurt?” 

“No, no, just,” She cleared her throat, leaving the stall and heading for the sinks, “Bad chicken I guess,”

Taking a handful of cold water up to her mouth, she swilled the liquid around to try freshen herself up, sputtering it back into the sink and running the back of her hand over her lips. 

“Do you need to get out of there?” Hotch asked, the concern thick in his tone, almost as clear as it was on his brow as he leaned in to Penelope’s monitor, “Lewis and Morgan have got eyes-”

“No, I’m not leaving him out there,” She protested, leaning over the sink with an exhausted huff, “I can’t head back to the table, she’ll know I was with Rossi,” 

And as if she had spoken a plea to the universe, one of the waitresses waltzed through the bathroom door carrying glass cleaner and a bunch of fresh toilet paper under her arm, smiling sweetly at Bugsy who seemed like any other patron of their restaurant. 

Her eyes snapped over the girl’s body, figuring she was about the same size, perhaps a tiny bit bigger than herself, she almost audibly heard the click of the idea and before she knew it she had reached out to grab the girl’s attention. 

She just hoped it worked, because otherwise the scolding she was going to receive from Hotch wouldn’t be worth it in the slightest. 

“Here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna penalise you by adding ten minutes because I actually did learn something important.” Cat said with a smirk, her finger flicking over the clock on his phone as she prolonged the countdown, and Spencer squirmed where she shuffled closer to him, close enough that their knees were touching and he could feel where the toe of her heels were teasingly stroking up his calf, like threatening him and his team for information was getting her off. He felt filthy, like he’d need a dozen showers before he fell into his girlfriend’s arms, and part of him considered skipping the whole dinner and speech, asking her the second he saw her again if she would be his wife. 

Because this, having another woman so close, was making him sick. 

“Oh really? What’s that?” He snapped, his patience wearing thin as his lips pressed in a straight line. 

“Your back up, I flushed them out,” She replied with a smirk, looking around the room with an arrogance Spencer wished he could wipe right off of her face, “It’s just me and you now,” 

“Hi, how are we all doing this wonderful evening?” A chirpy voice came from the end of the table, slamming two menus down between them hard enough that their attention snapped to her immediately. Spencer felt his eyes morph into horror, though he fought hard to hide it, as he saw a familiar face, the same one that had been running through his mind since, well, forever. Her red dress was gone, replaced with a maroon shirt and a black pencil  skirt, her hair tied back in a neat bun and she had a pen pushed behind her ear for good measure as she smiled at them tightly. 

Bugsy had really done it this time. 

“My name is Emily and I’ll be your waitress. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

–

“Prentiss, what in god’s name have you done?” Hotch barked, as she waltzed behind the bar, ignoring the looks from the barman that clearly had never seen her working there before. 

“I’m making sure Spencer has back up if she decides to get trigger happy,” She bit back, snagging a pitcher of water from the fridge and two crystalline glasses, placing them on an upturned tray. 

“And what happens if she gets trigger happy towards the waitress that won’t leave them alone?” Morgan snipped, shooting her a look where their table faced the long, walnut coloured bar that wrapped around the back of the establishment. 

“Well then, I guess we pray there’s a doctor in the house that isn't Spencer,” She huffed, plastering a fake smile on her lips, and carefully shuffling the tray onto her palm, “You’re going to have to take me out yourselves if you think I’m leaving him there alone,”

And they huffed, Hotch running a hand through his hair. Because they knew she wasn’t kidding. God help the man who tried to stop Bugsy when she had her mind to something. 

And with that resounding silence, she listened to Spencer’s mic, hoping to catch a foot in to the conversation.

“You should have seen right through me the moment you walked in, but you didn’t,” He said, and she didn’t need to take a glance at Cat’s face to know she was getting more than riled up. Why was she here? What happened to staying with Rossi where it was safe? It was her first day back in the field, what was she doing? He didn’t think he’d ever been so angry, though he knew if he scratched the surface of the feeling he’d find it was fear. And unfortunately for the woman sat opposite him, he’d stopped pulling his punches because of it. “You couldn’t. Because you can’t get to the man you really want to hurt, so you need to hurt every man who reminds you of him,”

Cat’s face flashed with what he could have sworn was hurt, before her eyes steeled back over and she shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t hit straight home, “That’s kind of boiler plate psychology, isn’t it? I’m just another girl with daddy issues,” 

“You’d be surprised how many killers do what they do because of their parents,” He snapped back, because he couldn’t dare take his eyes from their UnSub, no matter how desperately his gut told him to check on Bugsy. “If it’s so boilerplate, let's test that theory. How hard did you look for him?”

Her mouth screwed up in bitterness, “Very hard,”

“And how disappointed were you when you realised you will never find him?”  Spencer drove the knife in deeper, watching Cat’s resolve fade under his hateful stare, “You needed some other outlet for your rage and for a while this worked, but it also tripped you up,” 

And Bugsy stopped, because Spencer always had a way of saying the exact right thing that made her brain tick into genius, like everything about him made her the best version of herself even if he didn’t mean to. That was what tripped her up. Her father. 

“Hotch, it’s her dad,” She murmured, flashing a couple of customers an easy smile as she took the plates off their table, because Cat would catch on way too fast if she seemed to be the only person not be doing a job, “That’s what she wants, that’s her endgame,” 

And there was only a single second between them, before Hotch caught up to that wonderfully big brain of hers, “Serial killers with an endgame will do anything to get to them, even if it means taking themselves down with it,”

“Why would I make you sit here for thirty minutes?” Cat’s voice crawled down her ear piece as she burst through the kitchen doors, dumping the plates at the pot wash and looking to where JJ and Rossi were talking with the manager. 

“Because you’re stalling,” Spencer said, though he didn’t have that usual tone that told her he was sure of himself, and she knew from the direction it was going that something was missing. They’d missed something, otherwise they’d have Cat in cuffs by now.

“Then you don’t know me at all,” She hissed back, and Bugsy shook her nerves out through her fingers, peeking at where they were sat through the thin glass pane on the door, “Do you think I would show up here without an escape plan. Or is that just what another girl with daddy issues would do? Maybe if you hadn’t fallen victim to your own gender bias, and yes all men have gender bias, even you Dr Reid, you would have recognized that your entire strategy was based on one faulty detail. Can you see it?” 

Spencer paused, his frown shifting on his face, “You’re not here alone,” 

“And my partner? Less paranoid than you think,” She said, and by the sounds of it the smirk was back on her face, and Bugsy fought the sneer twitching at her lips. 

“You planted a bomb in the building,” Came Spencer's response, the grave realisation setting all three agents into motion. JJ’s head whirled to where their youngest stood by the door, her eyes widening at her partner’s words. 

And for a second she wanted to beg Bugsy to take cover outside, to get out while she still could, because it had been a miracle the last time a building had exploded around her and she’d only broken a few bones. JJ didn’t think she could stand to grieve her for good, not the girl who had already gone through so much for them. All because they had missed it. 

But she knew better, knew Bugsy would fight tooth and nail to stay if Spencer was still in the building. Knew that that argument would only be futile, a waste of time, because the Prentiss girl was not leaving. 

“We’ll go check it out, you stay put,” JJ ordered, drawing her gun to her side as Rossi did the same and Bugsy nodded, “Don’t do anything stupid, don’t draw attention to yourself, Spencer knows what he’s doing,” 

And Bugsy paused before she answered, choosing to give them a slow nod because she already had a good idea of what her next move would be, and it absolutely did not involve staying put. 

Like hell she would stay put while he was there. 

With that, JJ and Rossi turned on their heel to head for the stairs leading underneath the building, and Bugsy picked the tray back up, right as Lewis burst through the revolving doors, a serious look on her primped face. 

“We need to evacuate,” Tara said, and Bugsy nodded, flicking a look behind her to where the rest of the kitchen seemed to be waiting on their order, because the second JJ had flashed the FBI badge, they had frozen.

“You get the customers out safely, I’m going to buy us some time,” Bugsy said, and Tara watched her slip through into the restaurant, the tray pressed against her stomach. 

This was stupid. Stupider than she’d ever been, but her thoughts struggled to make sense whenever Spencer was in trouble. And it was like she saw the splash of his brains against the table, the same way she’d seen it in Lewis’s house all on the ceiling, like she could see now just what his organs would look like when Adams shot him however many time in the abdomen. 

She couldn’t think like that. They would be okay, they would figure it out together, they always did. They always managed to put their heads together when they were in trouble. 

Being in danger together seemed like a much better bet than having to watch the love of her life killed in the middle of this damn restaurant because she hadn’t done anything. She wanted to do everything with him for the rest of her sorry life, and if that meant sitting at the nozzle end of a pistol with him, then so be it. 

She just hoped he would forgive her quickly. 

“All we want to do is-” She heard Spencer begin, the other waiters filtering out of the kitchen with shaken looks on their faces, as they carefully slipped their patrons the bill that had already paid off, asking them to leave calmly and quietly. 

“Minimise collateral damage, I get it, I’m not mad,” Cat snapped back, rolling her eyes, “It’ll give me the cover I need to slip out. I just need to know it’s clear, so do me a favour and tell your boss that nobody leaves until its safe for me to do so,” 

Spencer chewed his tongue. He couldn’t let her leave, not when they had her so close, not when they were pursuing Penelope, not when they were so close to catching the woman responsible for so many kills. 

Spencer hated losing, he hated knowing that she was about to get away because he had been too wrapped up in his overwhelming thoughts to figure out her plan, too busy fretting over the two women who meant the most to him to think ten steps ahead like he usually did. 

He’d been sloppy, even though he knew he should cut himself some slack. His fiancee, girlfriend, had been tortured, his mother facing a different kind of terror in her mind altogether. He hadn’t been thinking about work, he’d been thinking of the house they were going to buy with the picket fence and the porch swing and the mortgage, and the damn ring-

“Well?” Cat’s goading voice ripped him out of his reverie, and he huffed in defeat, “Spencer?”

“You can leave,” He murmured, the agitation scratching at his skin because he was struggling to think of a final card to play. He was usually so good at games, usually won every single one of them. But his head couldn’t settle when Bugsy wasn’t near, when he couldn’t make sure she was safe. 

Cat shuffled out of the side of the booth, her eyes flicking across the restaurant for her contact, and Spencer had barely opened his mouth in protest before he watched the UnSub walk straight into a waitress, a false smile slipping on her face as to not raise alarm. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” And yet his breath hitched when he spotted the hair he’d ran his fingers through just that morning yanked into a bun, the lips he could kiss for an entire lifetime curled in disdain, the body he worshipped refusing to move out of the way for the woman in a hurry. 

And it seemed Cat only realised that the woman who had brought them water wasn’t a waitress at all, despite her plain face that had faded into the background, despite the fact Spencer hadn’t given her a second glance; Only when she heard a gun cocking behind the serving tray at her stomach did the fake smile drop from Cat Adams face. 

Because she hadn’t flushed out Spencer’s back up. Not while Bugsy was still alive and breathing. 

“Sit back down,” Bugsy growled, keeping her tone low but with enough bite that Cat’s eyes narrowed to hide the surprise. 

“Well, well, seems I hadn’t planned for everything, I thought a pretty face like you would know better than to pull a gun on a woman with her finger on the big red button,” Cat said wryly, though Bugsy caught her eyeing up her chest as if to be checking for a bullet vest, “Move out the way, sweetheart. You don’t want this to get ugly,”

Spencer’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, though he kept his breathing even. What was she doing? 

He didn’t care that he had no more power over her than anyone else on the team, he wanted to drag her out of the room himself if it meant she would stop throwing herself in the way of danger. 

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, that’s not happening.” Bugsy snapped back, her expression melting into something rogue, something teasing as she leaned towards Cat with a challenge in her eyes. “You’re going to sit back down, and I’m going to show you exactly why you should have accounted for a pretty face like me,” 

“You’re stalling,” Cat snickered, trying to push past the waitress, who wasn’t a waitress at all but an FBI agent, only for her hand to shoot out and grab her wrist, tossing the tray on the table. 

Spencer felt his heart lurch into his throat as he saw both of them pull their guns to waist height, a blink and you’d miss it kind of movement, and it was like he’d seen the game set and matched then and there. 

Bugsy wasn’t backing down. And neither was Cat.

“I make it a habit of knowing what kind of women are going on dates with my boyfriend,” Bugsy’s hand tightened around her wrist, watching the surprise flicker in the woman’s eyes, and she scoffed, “What? You really thought all that flirting and nervous glances were real?”

And the woman said nothing, her ego clearly a little hurt, though Bugsy was just sticking to the profile, and the profile said she revelled in male attention. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Bugsy snipped through a grin, even if her chest was pounding at the feeling of the gun pointing at her abdomen, “Well, lucky for you I have a present for you. On the condition you sit back down and play my game,” 

“You think I’m going to fall for that shit?” Cat seethed. It was one thing to outsmart a man, that was fair game, that was easy pickings for a woman like her. But a woman, a woman who seemed to love playing with her food as much as she did. That was different, “What is it, a reduced sentence? The good TV in my two by four cell? You can keep dreaming, I don’t want your worthless promises,” 

“I’d hardly call your daddy dearest worthless,” Bugsy mused, and she watched Cat’s expression falter, “A dead beat drunk maybe, but worthless? A little harsh considering you waited so long to meet him,” 

Cat paused, eyes flicking over the woman’s face for any signs of a lie, “You have my father?”

And Bugsy smirked, “Do I look like I’m bluffing?” But her face was set in stone, and Cat hated to admit she seemed too confident to be lying, “Why don’t you make this a little easier for everyone and sit back down. I’m not done with you yet,”

The murderess scowled, her shoulders straightening as she ripped her wrist out of Bugsy’s grip and retreated back to the booth. 

And it was only then that Bugsy looked at Spencer, his eyes wide in a horrid mix of terror and rage, and it was a sight she swore she never wanted directed at her again. But she couldn’t leave him, he had to understand that. Because if all the bets were off, if all the cards were dealt, she knew he would need to be dragged screaming from the building before he left her to deal with a hostile UnSub alone. 

And Spencer knew that too, of course he knew that. Yet it didn’t diminish the sickening worry bubbling up in his chest as the women sat down at the table, and their game had a playing field. 

“So, I take it this is the darling wife you wanted killed,” Cat sneered, and Spencer didn’t dare take his eyes off the woman with the gun, even if Bugsy did have one pointed right back at her, “I don’t blame you, I’d want to be rid of her too,”

And they both knew it was a dig, a stab in the interest of getting them both riled up. But it wouldn’t go far. Because despite the anger Spencer felt dwindling in his chest, he always worked better with her. Like a puzzle piece in the tangle of his mind had clicked into place, and suddenly they were a team again, and she seemed more like herself than she had in months, an ease about the way she leaned back in the plush seat despite the fact her finger was resting on the trigger. 

“Have you ever played Cat’s cradle?” Bugsy asked her, knocking her knee against his as if she’d heard his thoughts. They were together in this. Together. Even if the building went up in flames and bullets and the plan went to shit. Just the two of them, the way they’d always been. 

And he felt himself ease back too, something akin to security shifting over him. They always were safer together. 

Cat’s eyebrows raised as Bugsy dodged her comment, “What, do you want to braid my hair like sixth graders, too? What about it?” 

Bugsy shrugged, reaching over with her free hand to the glass of water she’d set down for the two of them, “The way I see it, Cat, you have got those little paws caught in yarn and are scrambling to get out of it,” She chuckled, taking a quick sip, “Now, if we were to let you go, you’d end up walking out of here scot free, and who knows, might even blow up the whole building anyway. But, if we help you out of this little tangle you’ve got us all in, then maybe we cut a deal that doesn’t involve all of us going out in a ball of flames and champagne. Sounds good right?”

The woman’s lips pursed tightly, her head tilting in annoyance, “Alright. Get on with it, no one likes a show off. How did you find my father?” 

Bugsy smirked, “Well that was pretty easy once you have access to the files we have. We traced your birth record to a Daniel Adams, who did in fact leave the country in 1987 but returned in 2012. Based on confidential records in rehabs and sober living houses, which in turn pointed us to flophouses and soup kitchens.” 

The brunette’s eye twitched, like the girl had just spat in her face, which was what it felt like, and she felt the taste of her own medicine was just as sour as she’d always presumed. 

“He couldn’t put twenty four hours together sober, sweetheart,” Bugsy summarised, shrugging her shoulders as if it was no big deal to her, just another bum on the street, “You can probably imagine our surprise to find that he lives here in DC,”

“Where?” Cat hissed, and Bugsy snickered, shaking her head and taking another sip of her water. 

“I’m an agent, not a miracle worker. It wasn’t that simple,” She replied, boredly tracing her finger over the restaurants emblem they had printed on the napkin, “I found him on the street, showed him your picture and said I’d like to ask him some questions about his darling daughter,”

Cat’s lip pulled down in annoyance, her matt red lipstick smudging with her pout, “And?”

And perhaps Bugsy was being cruel. Perhaps she was playing into the profile that indicated Cat needed someone to match her wit and zeal if she was going to listen. Men, she could squash like bugs. Bugsy, ironically, not so much. 

Perhaps she was thinking about how she’d reached into Spencer's pants to retrieve his gun, and wanted some of what she was saying to hurt. 

“He didn’t even know he had a daughter,” Bugsy said simply, with a small shrug of her shoulders, and she watched the woman’s onyx brown eyes glisten with unshed tears as the realisation crashed on her, "Didn't really seem to care,"

“He-he didn’t remember me?” Cat asked, the tease that had been there half an hour ago wiped clear from her tone, and Bugsy shook her head. 

“Nope,” She said, popping the last syllable, “Alcoholism really rocks your brain. Sorry, honey,”

Adams scoffed, shaking her head with venom, “You’re not sorry. Sorry is what people say when they don’t understand,”

And Bugsy’s brows raised, a bitter empathy flicking in her gaze. Quick, but not so quick that Cat didn’t catch it, and she shuffled in her seat. 

“Oh,” Their UnSub paused, the trodden down look on her face rekindling with interest, “But you understand, don’t you? What, does your father like a good beer or ten, princess?” 

Bugsy snickered emptily, “Ofcourse I understand,” She said, leaning over the table to hold the woman’s glare, because like hell would she back down just because Cat was treading on home ground, “I haven’t spoken to my father in five years. He picked the hot wife and holidays to Aruba over his little girl and he thought a new pony or two would make up for all the times he forgot Christmas. I can’t even remember the last time he sent me a birthday card on time, and yeah he was a bit of a mean bastard once he'd had a whiskey,” She shook her head with contempt, and she felt Spencer knock his knee against hers gently, but she only watched the viper woman with careful eyes. And to her shock, Cat seemed like she understood her, like she had some kind of respect for her telling the truth. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m very good at making sure old guys like that get what’s coming to them. Or is that just what another girl with daddy issues would do?” 

Cat’s face seemed to shrivel in frustration when she heard her words repeated back to her, “Is that really why you came here today? To help me?” And Bugsy tilted her head, knowing their UnSub was running out of time, that her window of opportunity was closing with the patrons of the restaurant getting antsy to leave. “Do you know how many men have told me they want to help me?”

Letting her expression smooth into empathy, she leaned forward, her tone dropping into a hushed murmur, “That may well be true, sweetheart, but from where I’m sitting, I’m not a man,” 

And Cat paused, something like regret drifting over her face, before she spoke again, “Do you want to know how that worked out for them?” 

And with that, JJ and Rossi watched the C4 charge’s switch to green, indicating their line was live and ready to blow. 

“Hotch, she just armed the bomb,”

Bugsy’s expression dropped an inch, the sight of it making Cat’s lips curl into a cheshire smile. 

“You’re not the only one with a loyal partner, honey,” 

But the Prentiss woman was quick on her heels, watching Morgan and Tara rise from their place at another booth, heading towards a woman sitting at the bar on her phone, and she forced her lips together to stop herself from looking too smug to cause suspicion. 

“It seems so,” Bugsy agreed with a nod, handing her gun off to Spencer beneath the table. 

If he was confused, he didn’t show it, probably because he trusted that big brain of hers with everything in him, even if he was mad enough he could feel the annoyance oozing from his hot cheekbones. Yet to the rest of the restaurant, Cat Adams, included she hadn’t moved an inch. 

“But, there is one thing I can guarantee about this partner of yours,” She said, leaning over to pour herself another glass of water casually. 

Cat hummed in content, “Oh, right? What’s that?”

And Bugsy smirked, barely raising the glass to her lips as Morgan pounced on the Bomber, ripping the phone out of her hands and causing the patrons around her to yelp, “She’s sure as shit not as clever as me and my husband,” 

Cat’s head whirlled around to see her partner’s face slamming into the hard wood of the bar, Tara yanking the cuffs from her belt, and she barely had time to flick back to the two agents facing her before a pitcher of ice cold water was thrown in her eyes, her thick mascara running down her cheeks and blurring her vision. Spencer dove over the table and grabbed her gun from her grasp as Bugsy ripped her out of the booth with rough hands. 

She threw her to the ground in the few seconds she was disorientated, her hands tightening around her wrists as make shift cuffs, and she saw Spencer hurrying to grab the real things from his pockets. 

“That was a cheap shot, you’re a cheater, you said you’d play fair,” Cat barked, her cheeks pressing against the rough carpet as the agents cuffed her, ignoring her protests and shoves. 

“Honey, this is me playing fair,” Bugsy snapped with a cruel smirk, “You threatened my friends, you stuck your hand in my boyfriend’s pants, and pointed a gun at him. Believe me I could have done so much worse,” 

And with that Cat Adams was hauled off the ground by the two of them, as they led her out to the police van waiting outside the restaurant. 

–

The doors pulled open, empty, and Cat’s face dropped, because her only silver lining on the entire outcome had been that she’d be able to meet the dead beat dad that ran out on her. 

That agent’s face had been so genuine as she’d said it. It had seemed so real, and yet… 

“You lied to me,” She said as Bugsy set her down on the bench, Spencer pulling another set of handcuffs from his belt and the two of them looked up at her, her lashes lining with disappointment. 

“If it helps, we really did try to look for him.” Spencer said, his tone blunt because she had a crazed look in her eye he didn’t like one bit the second she stared at his girlfriend.

And even though she was the one in chains, heading for prison for a twenty year sentence at the minimum, she laughed. Cackled. 

“It doesn't matter anyway, I still won,” She said, that venomous gaze turning to Spencer because she had learned atleast two thing in the time she’d been sat with the two agents that ruined her life. 

One. Spencer’s mother had Alzheimers, that he hadn’t been lying about. That she was sure was too real to be a story he’d pulled out his ass. 

Two. The girl wasn’t phased by insults or bites or cruel words directed towards her. Yet when it was at Spencer…

“How do you figure that one?” Bugsy said, her brow furrowing as she shook her head at the woman.

“In ten years, Mommy dearest won’t remember anyone’s name,” Bugsy’s head shot up at that, her lips curling into a snarl, and she forced her fingertips into her palm to stop herself from throwing a slap at the woman’s face, “But I’ll remember yours,” 

Bugsy daren’t react, no matter if her chest boiled in anger at the woman’s callous words. Spencer had to give that information up, give a small bit of his soft underbelly to get the woman to trust him enough not to shoot. 

And she couldn’t exactly blame him when he rose to his feet, darting out of the van with a clenched jaw, because the day had been an entire shit show, and she knew by the growl of annoyance he let out that their was a big conversation looming over her head, one she could only see ending in a fight.

It was just the two of them in the van, Cat entirely bound to her seat, and her painted lips had pulled into a grin the second he’d stormed off, her sleek eyes snapping to Bugsy who looked ready to slit her throat. 

“Oh, come on Princess, it was tit for tat,” Cat shrugged as if she didn’t seem destroyed, “You took my dad from me, I guess I had to do the same for that hubby of yours,”

Bugsy looked down at her, swallowing her rage with a purse of her lips, feeling her breath rattle with unfiltered animosity.

“You’d make a shit profiler, for what it’s worth. What you profiled about him was all off,” She snarled, stepping away from the woman and looking down at her as if she was shit on the bottom of her shoe, “At least he’s going to make a better father than the bum who would rather sleep on concrete than know you,”

And with that she slammed the doors closed behind her, darting off on Spencer’s heel. 

+1. The one where she tells him.

She saw his stress lines, the way the day’s events had weighed heavy on him. He sat on the sofa, his shoes thrown by the door after a tense drive home, and she'd found a space on the coffee table in front of him.

He was quiet, he had never been quiet with her, not in the years since they’d kissed that first time in her room. He wasn’t one for the silent treatment, she knew that much. Yet he was just that. Silent.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked, her voice that of a child as her brows scrunched together in worry. She felt the words bubbling in her throat, the thing she’d needed to tell him for a week gnawing at her tongue, crawling it’s way out, only she worried that after what she had done, he might just be ten times more annoyed at her throwing herself in the line of danger. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, and she thought this might turn into their first real fight in the two and bit years they’d been together. Her skin went cold at the words that loomed over them, and she knew by the way he sighed alone he was pissed. 

“You can’t do that,” He said, his voice a restrained bite, and he shook his head for good measure, “You can’t put yourself in the way of danger again, I can’t do that again, not after Scratch.” 

Her throat closed up with tears, and she glanced at him, her fingers itching to take his warm hands in her own, her body begging to preen into him, have him kiss her and tell her he wasn’t mad, that he still loved her, that everything was okay. But he wouldn’t. Not because he didn’t feel any of that, of course he still loved her, but the wet that lined his lashes told her all she needed to know. That seeing what Scratch had done to her had scared him enough that even the idea of her coming close to a hostile UnSub with a loaded gun, that straying from the plan that was designed to keep everyone safe, had tipped him into a grey area that had him both wanting to hold her close and never let her go whilst yelling at her in that broken cadence to show her just how hurt he was. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” She choked, her eyes becoming watery and pathetic and she hated crying during arguments, not wanting to look weak but that was exactly how she felt. Weak. Like she had no backbone to lean on because she knew she shouldn’t have intervened, but the snake-like woman undressing her boyfriend with her eyes while cocking a weapon at him had pushed her over the edge. 

“Oh, you’re sorry, that makes it much better,” Spencer shook his head, furrowing his brows and it was only when he leaned forward that the salty hot tears dribbled down his cheek. “You- you can’t just do that, Bugsy, you know that right?”

She nodded, the words building in her trachea like word vomit, like she wanted to scream the confession at him that she should have given him the second she’d found out. “I know, I’m sorry,” She said again, her words entirely warbled with guilt because she’d never seen him so distraught, and she thought back to the horror that had spread on his face when she’d sat down. 

“You can’t do that to me, sweetheart, do you understand?” His tone had shifted, something a little softer and he grabbed her hands tightly when her shoulders hunched together, and she leaned forward to try to hide her cries in her lap, sitting silently like a scolded child, “What were you thinking? You just got back into the field today, you could have been hurt, you could have gotten someone else hurt-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She sniffled, her expression truly guilty, because everything he was saying was exactly true, she could have gotten him shot. “I didn’t think, I wasn’t thinking, I just was worried that…” She trailed off, her heart rate spiking when the words almost slipped from her tongue. She couldn’t tell him, not like this.

“What?” Spencer pressed, because he didn’t like the look of whatever had just passed over her face, and she shook her head in denial, “Bug, tell me,” 

“No, I can’t,” Her breath clogged in her chest, coming out in a shaky rattle, and it was then that he leaned forward even more, trying to dip his head down to catch her eye, "Not like this,"

“Please tell me,” He begged, his eyes still stinging where another wave of tears threatened to burst at the seam when she shook her head again, her chin pressing down into her chest because he hated this. He hated arguing with her. “I’m sorry I yelled, I didn’t mean to, honey, I just got- worried.”

“I know,” She said quietly through another sniffle, rubbing her cheek on her shoulder to dry it, “I know, I’m sorry I didn’t think it through I just,” She took a deep breath, because she knew she needed to tell him, knew there was no more running from it. 

He lifted a palm to her cheek, his thumb skirting under her eyelashes, and he forced himself together because he could never stand to see her cry, not when it was partially his fault, “What?” 

“I just can’t do this without you,” She murmured, her heart in her throat, and it only made it difficult to swallow. She chanced a look at Spencer, his eyes wet and red and worried as she continued, “I can’t be the one to tell this kid their dad died because I didn’t do anything,” 

“What..” He started, his brows immediately falling into a frown as he looked at her. She swore she could hear every single contraction of her heart muscles in her ears, the blood rushing through her veins making it sound like waves crashing on a shore right in her eardrum. 

“It’s still fixable,” She jumped in, before he could say anything, like she needed to justify immediately what she’d said, or even just talk to fill the silence because she hated not knowing what he was thinking, “It’s only five weeks along, I still have time to… fix it-”

“Five weeks- you-you’re pregnant?” Spencer’s eyes were wide, with horror or shock she had no idea, nor did she want to find out judging by the way he had turned pale, reading between the lines, “W-What- fix it? Is that what you want to do?” 

She stopped, because he seemed to be keeping a lid on his emotions, trying his hardest to sound calm and somehow that made it all the more worse. Because she would rather him get angry, or get frustrated and tell her this was too soon, or tell her there was no way he was ready to be a father, because at least then the pressure of it wasn’t on her back to decide for both of them. 

But he would never, and she didn’t know why she’d ever second guessed him. He wasn’t yelling, or turning away, or leaving her the second things got tough, because it was Spencer. And Spencer would never. Spencer gave her the choice of what she wanted to do. 

She stopped, her lungs suddenly feeling just that bit tighter, as she shrugged pitifully, and she thought this was perhaps not the most ideal way to tell someone you’re pregnant, “I-I don’t know, I think…” She stopped, because what did she think? She’d been so wrapped up in worrying about what Spencer would think, worrying about his mom and her nightmares and Cat God Damn Adams that she hadn’t even let herself entertain the thought of a little them. 

But if she said she didn’t like the idea of a little boy with Spencer’s hair and glasses and smile, if she said she couldn’t see the photo album his mom had handed her full of pictures of their kids butt naked and watering the flower beds, she would be a liar. 

“I think… it would take a lot of work, I mean it’s a baby for christ sakes, Bugsy, of course it’ll take work,” He nodded slowly as she chided herself, but she felt his hands tighten on hers, and the tiny gesture gave her the encouragement she needed. She took another breath, that boy with brown curls and her eyes in a jedi costume flashing through her head, “But.. I think having a mini you is everything I could have ever wished for,” 

His lip quivered for a minute, and she worried she’d said the wrong thing. And then…

He smiled, wider than she’d ever seen him, like she could count every single one of his teeth, and she copied him despite the way a frog leapt into her throat, and she saw his eyes line with a fresh set of tears. 

“Really, we’re really doing this?” Spencer asked, quietly, like someone could hear them, or perhaps he couldn’t believe himself even as he said it. He thought his chest was about to explode, thought his heart could never love someone so much as he loved her, thought it would never beat the same way again as it had before he’d been told he was going to have a baby with the woman he’d been in love with for nearly nine years. She nodded, her shy smile turning into something happy, maybe even excited as he pulled her in for an achingly sweet kiss, his hands cupping her cheeks as he kissed her lips over and over and over again, ignoring the salt that trapped in her skin, and he realised then he had started crying just as much as she had. Two wailing saps sitting in their living room, happier than they’d ever dreamed they were allowed to be. “I love you, I love you, I love you more than anything, I was so stupid, I’m so sorry I shouted-” 

She chuckled, shaking her head, and drawing him back in for a long, silencing kiss, “I was stupid, very stupid.” Bugsy said, the weight lifting off her chest like a dumbbell had been moved, and she could breath again. Because Spencer kissed her like he wanted to merge their bodies into one, like he didn’t care for breath anymore as long as he had her lips on his, and she couldn’t help think if that was what he thought of her too, “No more being stupid from either of us. Kid’s got to have at least one smart parent,“

He smiled, enough joy in his eyes to make her think she was handing him the universe. And yet that was exactly how he felt. Like everything he dreamt of as a kid, when he was in his room wishing his dad had stayed because sometimes looking after his mom was tough on a twelve year old, or when he’d held Henry for the first time and thought maybe he wouldn’t be terrible at it by the time it was his turn. 

He looked at Bugsy, the idea of their kid growing inside her, about the size of a petit pois pea at five weeks, and Spencer damn near felt like he’d won the lottery. 

And all thoughts of Cat Adams were gone from both of their minds, the viper woman she wished she had gotten a good right hook to when she’d had the chance entirely unimportant now. 

Because they were going to be a family, more so than they already were. And Bugsy felt as though she couldn’t love Spencer any more than she already did, but she could love his baby more than she’d ever thought possible. 

--

taglists:

@littlemadamred  @stainedpomegranatelips  @mcntsee  @release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08  @caramelised-onions  @the-tpd-bau  @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches  @sammy-4103  @starmansirius  @yeonalie  @delusionallooney  @sadbae-33  @mdanon027  @swag13r  @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey  @mindfullycriminal  @mrsbellastyles  @imagines--galore  @bluejaysaysstuff  @imaginexred  @flow33didontsmoke  @spicyspirit  @mywellspringoflife  @lovelyygirl8  @pleasantwitchgarden @rosylnsworld  @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters  @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist  @theoraekenslover  @niktwazny303  @alyeskathewave  @yondiii  @cultish-corner  @lllucere  @escapismurmom @stillhere197  @hiireadstuff  @queermaxwooo  @telengraph  @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers  @busy-buzzing

[halfmoonshines]

Just Damon being soft and protective with his gf please! :) love ur work

love this and love you!

only you

damon salvatore x f!reader

summary: Damon only ever had that smile for you.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

You groaned as you trekked behind the group, fully convinced that this could not get any worse. Not only was the southern heat creating a shine of sweat on your skin, but the constant bickering from the rest of your cohort was driving you crazy.

"If you're annoyed Elena, imagine how the vampires feel. We could've just zipped through the woods without you guys." Caroline made an excellent point.

"So why did we even come?" Your question was exasperated and Damon's light laugh came from behind you, one of his hands coming to rest on your lower back.

"The more eyes there are, the more likely we are to find this tomb." Stefan replied.

"I would argue that you guys could've covered five times as much ground by this point if we weren't slowing you down." You paused your walk for a moment, head thrown back to try and gulp in some of the balmy air.

That air promptly left your lungs, however, when Damon swept you into his arms. You couldn't help but shriek a bit, hastily wrapping your arms around his neck. "Damon. I'm sticky and stinky."

He raised an eyebrow at you, lips arranging themselves in a mirthful smile. "My favorite version of you."

Caroline shook her head violently. "Ew, guys."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

The darkness in the room was almost suffocating you but you didn't have the strength to not suffer inside of it. You didn't know how long you had been sitting there, or when it had gotten so bad, but somewhere along the way you had stopped caring.

You had days like this sometimes, where your mental health was virtually nonexistent and you would rather sit alone in the dark with your thoughts rather than flick the light on and reveal the very real things behind those thoughts.

You vaguely heard the door open downstairs, and Damon's voice was like a lance through the fog in your mind. "Babe? Are you upstairs?"

You stayed silent though, brow furrowing while you tried to overcome the block in your brain that was stopping you from speaking. All that came was a frustrated sigh.

That was enough for the vampire, who quickly appeared in your room, seeming unperturbed by the thick blanket of darkness and despair. He came to sit next to you on the edge of the bed, hand finding yours to interlace your fingers.

"Bad brain day?" His tone was gentle, not a hint of judgement tinged into it. You appreciated that.

You gave a nod, slumping into the safety of his arms. He was always so sturdy, a rock against whatever storm you encountered.

He hummed low in his throat and pulled you both back onto the bed, turning on the fairy lights hanging around the room and tucking you under his chin.

That was where you laid for hours before he convinced you to have dinner, more than happy to let you feel whatever you needed.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"Are we sure that she is not going to lose her mind when she finds us doing this?" Damon sounded incredibly unsure, paintbrush dangling from his fingers.

You discarded your own, placing hands on hips before you replied. "It's washable paint and it's Caroline's 18th birthday!! Decorating her car is a great idea, trust me."

He raised an eyebrow at you and approached, coming chest to chest and threatening to get the paint dripping from his brush onto you. "Painting the most OCD Barbie I know's car as a surprise? Seems risky."

Your smile was devilish in return. "Since when does a little risk scare you, Salvatore?" You had barely finished your sentence before a gasp escaped, a line of paint now going down your cheek.

"Literally never." He lunged away as you grabbed for him, and you ended up painting yourselves much more than you touched the car.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids || You Already Had Kids From A Previous Relationship

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan absolutely adored it whenever the kids were around him, since he'd been around the guys so much he was used to chaos around him all of the time. So on the nights he spent at your place, he found himself able to focus on work even when you did your best to calm your two kids down so that they wouldn't bother him,

"It's fine, baby." Chan laughed as you sat down beside him, already out of breath from chasing your two boys around the living room trying to get them to stop annoying Chan. 

"But-" You tried to protest but Chan shook his head at you. This was nothing compared to what he used to handle at the dorms and besides, Chan adored your two boys and treated them like they were his own.

"Trust me, I can handle it. Besides," He clicked on his laptop a few times before shutting it, reaching behind the sofa and pulling out a Nerf gun.

"I owe these two a war!" He yells before chasing after your two boys making you giggle at them all watching in amusement as your boys scream and hide in different directions. 

MINHO:

 "You don't have to do this," You giggled as Minho dropped beside you on the sofa, his hands reaching for your ankles as he carefully placed them on his lap and his eyes met yours.

"I know, I want to do this," He winks at you as he carefully starts to massage your swollen feet and sends your head back against the sofa and you let out a small whine of happiness. You'd been on your feet for most of the day, which isn't normally a big deal but being pregnant only made it worse for you.

"You're a lifesaver," You whine out, fully relaxing against Minho as he massages your feet. The two of you had met when you were almost two months pregnant and you'd worried at first that he wasn't going to want to stay with you when he found out but he threw himself into the deep end. Attending birthing classes with you and trying to make sure he was there for every doctor's appointment you had. He might not have been the father biologically but it certainly felt as though he was.

CHANGBIN:

"You're not- scared? Annoyed? You don't even...hate me?" Your voice shook as you spoke to Changbin trying to get to the bottom of how he was feeling about all of this. The two of you had been together for a month when you'd discovered you were pregnant with your ex's kid, and you were almost five months along now but you'd only just found out.

"Why? You didn't know." He chuckled softly and placed his fingers on your stomach, softly running his fingers along your skin as you shivered a little. You'd been scared all morning of telling him the news that you hadn't even thought of what his reaction would be if it was a good one.

"You're so understanding it's creepy," You laugh weakly and he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Can I come with you to scans and stuff?" He questioned, making your heart race at the thought of him wanting to be openly involved with your pregnancy and you nodded at him

HYUNJIN:

"Hyunjin...I thought-" You were cut off as he held up a bag of groceries for you, you'd been stressing all day about not having enough hours in the day to do what you needed to do and so he took the liberty of doing one of the most daunting tasks on your list.

"I also got-" He smirked as he pulled out another toy for your eldest daughter, the Barbie doll she'd been begging to get for the last few weeks and you gasped more than she did as she took it from his hands.

"Thanks!" She squeals, running off to go and open it while you bounce your 6-week-old on your hip, smiling weakly at him. You must have looked like a state but Hyunjin kissed you anyway, taking the bags through to the kitchen and putting everything away for you.

"Where did they make you again? AI.Boyfriend.Com?" You teased as he smirked at you, winking in your direction as you carefully put down your sleeping baby and made your way over to him.

"I'll make dinner," You tried to speak but Hyunjin kissed you softly and shook his head,

"My turn, mummy gets a night off." He tells you sternly before turning his attention to the kitchen, cleaning everything before starting a meal, letting you have some time off for the first time in weeks.

JISUNG: "Mama, I don't wanna watch it. It's boring." Your 8-year-old son said as Jisung played Howl's Moving Castle on the screen, an audible gasp leaving both you and Jisung as you stared down at your kid. 

"It's a masterpiece." You whined at him before Jisung nodded in agreement, popping some popcorn into his mouth and shaking his head.

"Not only that, it's a great love story." He added but your son was having none of it as he shook his head at you both again,

"It's a girly movie, no one wants to see them kissing," He folded his arms over his chest and you giggled a little, turning to look at Jisung who playfully narrowed his eyes at your son before attacking him with tickles.

"Maybe we should find something you'll both enjoy then." You tease, flicking through the selection while your son runs off from Jisung.

FELIX:

You'd been dying to go on a picnic date with Felix for the last few weeks but your babysitter cancelled at the last second, leaving you completely alone with your toddler and no chance of going to see Felix so you'd cancelled the date.

"Lix?" You giggled as he walked into the apartment, sporting a picnic basket and blanket as he set up on your living room floor, sending you a smile as you watched him.

"You couldn't go to the picnic, so the picnic came to you." He smiles warmly at you as you watch him, your toddler slowly making her way over to the picnic blanket and plopping herself down on it.

"I also made sure to get your favourites," Felix tells her as he bops her nose, holding up the jars that your daughter had been adoring for the last few weeks. That was the thing about Felix, when he'd found out you had a kid he didn't run off like many others would, he took the time to get to know you AND your daughter, making sure you were both important in his life.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin wasn't even sure what he was doing there but when you'd called him in a panic telling him you were in labour he rushed to the hospital like a concerned father-to-be and stayed by your side the whole time.

"You'll need to change into scrubs." A nurse said as she threw Seungmin a set of scrubs and he stared down at them.

"As the dad, we'll assume you want to come into the delivery room." She told him and he looked at you for permission, your eyes lingered on him as you nodded letting him know it was okay with you if it was with him.

"I'm a dad," He winks at you, the two of you laughing softly at the thought of it. The father of your child wanted nothing to do with you and Seungmin had been the one that was there every single step of the way. Every appointment, every scan and every birthing class he was always by your side, just in case you ever needed him. 

"Come on then," You giggled as he rushes to get changed into the scrubs to join you in the delivery room whenever it was time.

JEONGIN: 

"Don't tell your mum," Jeongin laughs as he finally finished the fourth book he'd been reading to your son. Jeongin had come round to spend the night with you but after hearing him show up your son decided he wanted a story reading to him, which had turned into four books and almost a fifth but your son could barely keep his eyes open. You watched from the doorway and smiled at the scene in front of you,

"Goodnight," Jeongin whispered to your son, gently tucking him into the sheets when he suddenly stilled.

"Goodnight, Dad." The words were simple to your son and yet had you and Jeongin reeling as he rushed out of the room, softly shutting the door as his cheeks burned bright red.

"He just-"

"He did," You giggle, kissing Jeongin softly as he wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a tight embrace. It wasn't like he was trying to replace his father but he'd been around ever since your son was born and he was happy your son felt comfortable enough around him for the big word.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie

[kbaji]

❝ 𝐒𝚸𝐋𝐈𝐒𝚮 𝐒𝚸𝐋𝚨𝐒𝚮 ❞ FEAT. YOUR FAV JJK & TOYKOREV MEN !

w. sfw, fem. reader, slightly suggestive @ end, use of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’, reader and character are married and have a daughter, pretend it’s summer thxs, not proofread

n. this is so ass but i wanted to write, enjoy (◕‿◕)♡

“Alright, jump to Daddy, princess!” Your husband extends his arms to his daughter with a comforting smile plastered on his face, “you can do it!” (D/n) stares back at him nervously, bringing her hand to her mouth, sucking on her thumb.

It’s blistering hot outside. Any liquid that hits the pavement evaporates within milliseconds, and you drip sweat despite having a fan blow cool air on you and an umbrella shielding you from the sun's rays. So, having a family pool day was perfect for you, your husband, and your daughter to cool off.

From the sidelines of the pool, you stared at your husband, then at your daughter, switching between the two as she stood there, mortified that her father would disappear once she jumped towards him.

“Jump, baby! Daddy will catch you!” You shouted, and her eyes shifted to where you were sitting. She stared at you, her expression laced with concern, before she shook her head. You sent her a warm smile and a thumbs-up as she sighed and looked back at her dad, checking if he was still there. “I’m scared, Mommy! What if I drown?” She voiced out, bottom lip wobbling as her head filled with thoughts of worse case scenario, scaring herself to step back from the ledge.

“You won’t drown, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you, pinky promise.” Your husband dropped his arms before dragging one back up towards her, holding his pinky out for her to grab. She anxiously stared at his pinky finger then huffed, dropping her thumb from her mouth and reluctantly reaching out to interlock pinkies with him.

After a few seconds, (D/n) stood there, still hesitant to jump to him. You noticed your daughter's nervousness and sighed, getting up from your chair and walking to the pool stairs. You stepped in and paddled over to both of them once you acclimatized to the cool water. Looking up at your husband, you grab his bicep before leaning up and whispering, “I know what will get her to jump in.” He turns his head to look at you with an amused smile, slightly doubting you knew how to get (D/n) to jump, considering she has always been scared of the water. “Enlighten me then, my love.” You send him a smirk before turning back to (D/n). “If you jump, Daddy will buy you ice cream and get you the Barbie dream house you’ve been wanting!”

Her ears perk up, and her anxiousness turned into determination as her eyes locked on her father like a target. 

Your husband’s eyes grow wide, and before he could protest that ‘Santa would be getting her that for Christmas,’ your daughter took a leap of faith, cannonballing into him, splashing water on the concrete and the two of you. You turned away as the water splashed and laughed heartily as your husband grunted from the impact, sending both of them under the water.

“Good job, baby! You did it!” You exclaimed as your husband and daughter emerged to the surface. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her on his hip as she wiped the water from her face. You smiled, sneaking your arms around the both of them and placed a kiss on top of her wet hair, then one on your husband’s cheek.

As the hot summer afternoon continued on, you and your husband helped your daughter float and swim around the pool, splashing each other while sharing laughs and smiles.

So suddenly, hours passed. You noticed your fingers had become pruney, and the sun was about to set, signaling it was time to get out of the water and prepare for supper. You voiced that it was time to get out to your husband and daughter, and they both pouted before you all hopped out of the pool and dried off.

You made your way inside and entered the kitchen, your husband and daughter following behind you, smiles plastered on their faces. (D/n) walked up to you and hugged your leg, telling you that Daddy would help her get ready for dinner. You smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "I’ll order Chinese for dinner. Sound good?” She smiled and nodded before running off to her room.

Your husband chuckled at his daughter and turned back to you, walking up and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Chinese for dinner, huh?” he asked, his tone laced with mischief. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a knowing look, leaning up and kissing his cheek softly. "You want something else?” He looked away, a blush dusting across his cheeks as his hands trailed down to your hips, tugging at the hem of your coverup. "Yeah, but I guess it’ll have to be dessert.” You snorted and placed a hand on his chest, patting him lightly to get him to look at you. Once he tuned back to look at you, you send him a soft smile, sliding your hand from his chest down to the towel that wrapped around his hips. You lightly trace your fingers along his skin teasingly, smirking up at him before pulling back your hand. “You’ll get to have me later, promise.���

He let out a groan as he threw his head back, and before he could whine out a protest, (D/n) shouted from the top of the stairs. “Hurry up, Daddy!”

You giggle as he grumbles, sliding a hand down your back to playfully smack your ass. He turned around to walk toward the stairs, not before stopping and speaking up.

“Can’t wait, Mommy.”

NAVIGATION, MASTERLIST ⋆ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can I request #1 from your drabbles challenge, with Jack Hughes please?

Drabble Challenge Drabble Masterlist

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

Tonight you were going out with some of your coworkers for a happy hour but it always turned into a crazy night. Jack didn’t have a game or anything to do today so he decided to lay on the bed while you got ready. Walking out of your master bathroom, your makeup and hair done. Walking over to the outfit you laid out earlier for tonight. A simple black skater skirt and a lacy navy bralette. Jack was busy scrolling through Instagram on his phone he didn’t notice you adjusting your bralette in the mirror, or you putting on some gold jewelry. Jack always said gold was your color, he said it made you look hot espically the thick gold chain he got you for your birthday a few months ago to replace the cheap one from target he broke by pulling too hard one night.

“Okay how do I look?” you asked, casually doing a little twirl to show your boyfriend.

“Fuck your beautiful” he whispered, you’re not even sure if you were meant to hear it. Either way his words still left a pink blush on your cheeks.

“T’ank you” you mumbled shyly. Before you could ask him what shoes he thought looked better with your outfit. He let his eyes rank your body again and then again as if it was a double take to make sure his eyes weren’t lying to him.

“Baby, your skirt suppose to be that high up.”

“Yeah, the skirt is suppose to be this short.” You answer, Jack starts slowly approaching you and suddenly you’re looking at yourself in the mirror debating your outfit for tonight. “Why does it not look good?” Your voice skeptical as if you no longer were confident. Suddenly Jacks behind you now, his hands resting on your exposed upper thighs, barely pushing the skirt up.

“No you look fucking beautiful baby. But I’m not letting you leave in that.”

“Jack” you sigh.

“Not unless you let me come with you cause you know I don’t trust others.” He argues.

All you do is look at him through the mirror. Both of you are in a silent argument but neither of you are speaking just your eyes are. You are begging for him to trust you and he telling you no fucking way.

“Baby you know I’d choose the bear for our hypothetical daughter to be in the woods with not a man. What makes you think I’d let you be in a bar, looking this fucking hot, with a skirt that barely covers your ass with drunk men? Fuck no” he reasons but your mind is lost on the fact he even knows about that trend from months ago on TikTok.

“Jacky how do you know about that trend?” Not even bothering addressing the skirt or going out anymore. Your mind now stuck on how your precious boyfriend who didn’t wanna watch Barbie or Oppenheimer when they came out this summer. Or the fact he didn’t know the “how often do you think about the Roman Empire?” trend know about the “who would you feel safer in the woods with?”

“I have social media Y/N I just play dumb because it’s more interesting and the interns are less likely to bother me if I don’t give them good content.” He admits. “But my point still stands you are either changing or im coming with you.”

“Fine. I’ll change.” You sigh sulking back to your closet.

[princessofangiemania]

𝑺𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚: 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝑺𝑷 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒑𝒂𝒅-𝒆𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

First and foremost, I would like to apologise for my inactivity ;w; I've been so focused on school, it was HECTIC and boy do I have a lot of success stories, this being one of them. So start of the school year, I wasn't planning on manifesting a boyfriend. I just wanted good grades, beauty and stuff. Long yapping session ahead!!

I was friends with this guy. Our whole friendship started because I was bored and wanted to play cupid (He liked another girl). So I was talking with him a lot, I was his right-hand woman. But this guy, he's not fond of making first moves but the girl isn't either. Long story short, he got rejected they didn't end up together. Let's call my SP "Coco" for good measure. You thought that was the end of it and we just remained friends? Wrong, I started developing feelings for him and womp womp (I actually thought he was physically attractive when I first saw him but backed off when I saw he liked another girl because I wasn't that attached yet). An even funnier story, we're in a four-person friend group. (2 boys and 2 girls), the other two are a couple. So our friend-group was more like a double date if we did end up together. Since my 18th birthday party was coming up, I had to pick a partner for the cotilion. And I picked him (He was convinced) and I even proposed a solo. So while we were practicing, we had lots of moments and I'm pretty clumsy, you can pretty much imagine that. There came our field trip. And it was mostly water sports. After that, we were all given free time to play in the pool for about two hours. I began carrying people randomly and they started doing the same to me. I actually carried Coco too and of course he carried me too. Around dismissal, I switched places with the other guy in our friend group and sat next to him. Average romance anime cliche moment, I fell asleep on his shoulder. To fast forward through, I confessed to him but he gave me a "You deserve better, I love you as a friend" but not a definite no. The rejection is implied but what does our LOA Barbie girlie do? We persist. That time wasn't the best, I was more than awkward around him but all I thought was, "This is for the plot" over and over again.

Like a Wattpad love story, it started picking up on the day of my 18th birthday, when we sang Photograph. Not relevant? It played our part in 18 Roses (In Philippine culture, it is customary for a girl to dance with 18 bachelors to signify her coming of age). And of course, I just had to experience all the cliche moments like him holding an umbrella over me, carrying my bag, going to get ice cream, walking somewhere and exchanging longing glances when the other wasn't looking and it all came down to a pool party we had when the school year ended. I got drunk (My dumbass thought the punch was orange juice and filled my cup all the way through) and I was just mostly chilling by the jacuzzi because of it. Coco over here, if we weren't hogging the karaoke machine, we were just chilling in the jacuzzi by ourselves (And the annoying pick-me girl of the class occasionally) and when I got too drunk, apparently I asked if I could hug him and for the last 2 hours or so, I was just hugging him. It was weird because Coco would usually join water sports going on in the other pool but he decided to just chill with me.

Before we got together, just like how I would write a wattpad fanfiction, there was the mandatory angst misunderstanding. The confession was really something. Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift was playing in the background and we became an official couple at exactly 12 midnight. Now, we're in a happy and loving relationship! Honestly, I was scared of what he'd be like in a relationship (Cuz I thought he wouldn't give me what I needed, E.G. princess treatment) but since I persisted and said to myself that what I wanted would always be given to me, I'm proud to say I'm dating a guy who practically worships the ground I walk on, not afraid to show his affection and respectful. I could go on and on about how good my relationship is how he treats me so well but I'd save you all the sappy stuff.

[adrienneleclerc]

Shopping Trip

Pairing: Lando Norris x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N go to the mall and Lando is bored

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: based the scene from the Barbie Movie, you know the one.

Lando was in Monaco, came home after the triple header and like most drivers, he missed his girlfriend. Lando was asleep in his bed when he heard Y/N getting dressed.

“What are you doing up, sweet thing? I thought we could stay in bed.” Lando said.

“Mm, I would love to, mi fresita, but I can’t. I have a nail appointment at the galleria.” Y/N said.

“You mean the metropole shopping center?” Lando asked.

“It’s a big indoor mall, I’m calling it a galleria. I’ll probably have a look around too.” Y/N said.

“Can I come with you?” Lando asked.

“You wanna come with me to get my nails done?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I could pick out your nail color, I’m paying. Let me shower real quick and we can go.” Lando said.

“Okay, amor.” Y/N said. Y/N had a quick snack and looked for Pinterest photos of nail designs while she waited for Lando to shower and get dressed. Once dressed, Lando got out of the room and sat next to Y/N. “Great, pick which design you like.” Lando took Y/N’s phone and searched through her Pinterest board until he landed on a design he liked.

“This one is very you. Plus, it’s cute and girly, and the color suits you, you ready to go?” Lando asked. Y/N nodded and both of them left the apartment to go to his car.

Though the rules are ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole’, Lando let Y/N pick the music. Once they arrived at the mall, Lando opened Y/N’s door to let her out and they walked into the mall, some people were asking for photos on their way to the nail salon. Y/N walked in first.

“Hello, I’m Y/N, I have an appointment.” Y/N said.

“Ah yes, we were expecting you, we have your chair ready right here.” The employee lead Y/N to the ‘nail station’ while Lando sat in the waiting area. As soon as Y/N was settled, they began their work, using the nail drill to buff her nails. The acrylic isn’t even on Y/N’s nail when Lando decided to stand next to her.

“Darling, I’m bored.” Lando said with a pout, Y/N turned her head.

“Cariño, you wanted to come with me. Just entertain yourself, find something to do.” Y/N said, turning her head back to make conversation with the nail tech. Lando looked around the nail salon.

“What am I supposed to do?” Lando asked.

“Lando! Go for a walk or something.” Y/N said

“By myself?” Lando asked.

“Yes!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Where?” Lando asked.

“Anywhere!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Can i go that way?” Lando asked, pointing to a store across the nail salon.

“Yes.” Y/N said. Lando started walking but he didn’t leave the salon yet. “Don’t go too far.” Y/N said.

“Okay!” Lando exclaimed. He walked back to where Y/N was sitting. “I’ll text you what store I’m at, here’s a couple hundred bucks, I love you.” Lando said, kissing her temple, adding the couple hundred bucks in her bag.

“I love you too, stay on the first floor please.” Y/N said.

“I will.” Lando said before leaving.

An hour or so later, Y/N’s nails are finished, she paid the nail tech, and checked her phone to see what store Lando is at but she found him sitting by the water fountain, eating chicken wings.

“You got food?” Y/N asked.

“I was hungry and I came here to spend time with you, which means we will check the stores together. Let me see your nails.” Lando said and Y/N showed him her nails.

“Beautiful, they did a great job. Maybe when it’s time for me to propose, I’ll send you here to get your nails done.” Lando said, getting up from the fountain edge to walk with Y/N,

“Wow, you think about proposing to me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” Lando said,

“You are the sweetest. Think we can go to Sephora?” Y/N asked.

“You spend too much money at Sephora.” Lando said,

“It’s not my fault Ulta isn’t available in Europe. Which is stupid, by the way, Sephora is so expensive for no reason, they don’t have my favorite shampoo and conditioner.” Y/N said.

“All right, let’s go to Sephora.” Lando said.

“Yay!” Y/N said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, short but cute, do you think Lando would be like this?

[daylighted]

──ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpre-show pregame ㅤ ♫ ⋆ ｡ ♪ ₊ ˚ ♬ ﾟ .

manager!dean & sunshine. now playing ! greedy, tate mcrae. find sunshine's setlist here.

content warnings. pining. it's a warning bc it's BAD. also john winchester hate. but pls just consider that a given on this page.

he'd loved you since you were kids, dean did.

and he thought he'd been obvious. he thought he'd been obvious when you were both kids, and he'd handmake the dandelions you loved so desperately into rings ─ hell, he'd proposed to you with it.

but you were always destined for things greater than a childhood best friend from your small town you were always bound to outgrow. and so dean winchester did the most irrationally rational thing he could think of at the time, not wanting you to slip through his fingers like water.

he followed.

dean was actually still following you, trailing like a lost puppy.

"opener starts in ten," he says, flipping through the notes in his clipboard, "set should take around 40 minutes, give or take. that means─"

"i love you so much, dean," you say when you spin on your heel, and he's long past ever thinking those words will mean anything besides being platonic and useless to him, but it still makes his heart thump in his chest at the idea they could, "but you do not have to explain my set to me."

dean huffs his annoyance. "i was saying," he grumbles, grabbing a water bottle from the pack set up in the wings of the venue's stage, "before you rudely interrupted to try and be cruel to me ─ worked, by the way, gonna keep me up at night ─ that you have about an hour to eat, drink, do the social media thing, whatever you want. just in the hour constraint."

you were so pretty. your makeup was half done. you had the thickest layer of white powder underneath your eyes that he'd ever seen, and your lips were chapped, still. always chapped. because you're always running your mouth, he'd told you once. still true.

you weren't even dressed yet, either. there, on the rack outside of the dressing room he'd been following you to, was your allotted outfit. so glittery. everything was so damn glittery in the pop scene.

the things he did for you, really.

"you know i can't eat big before a show," you say, as if this is supposed to be new information to him, "did you get─"

"fruit tray, veggie tray, cold water, all already in the fridge."

"and─"

dean slow blinks at you. once, twice. "and your special good luck wine."

your smile is so grateful that it could make him a molten mess, right in the floor of sunset blvd's backstage area. you just had that effect on him, even when he wished that you didn't hold so much power. people looked at you and saw a star; dean looked at you and saw the stars.

he saw the little girl that climbed to the top of the monkey bars to balance on the thin bars, just so you had a wide enough berth to scream barbie movie songs at the top of your lungs to anyone who gathered beneath you. he saw a girl who burned through the school's printer paper to have sheet music of every song you liked. he saw a girl who used to come and sit on his bed while his dad screamed or snored downstairs, and sing half-finished songs to him while writing and rewriting their endings to cover up the sound of it.

they were still dean's favorite songs on your setlist, those ones that he watched come to fruition before his eyes. watching your passion bloom was prettier than any flower, made you prettier, somehow.

"dean?"

embarrassing. he clears his throat, straightens his spine, as if he hadn't just been caught in a daydream by the very person who haunted them. "go ahead."

"don't talk all professional to me," you chide, your lips giving way to the gentle tone of your voice, "i asked if you'd come in and have a glass with me. to celebrate."

your hand is closed around the big clothing rack, the door half open. dean's maybe not very observant when it comes to situations involving you, but he's also not a complete dope.

"you're changing."

you slow blink at him now. "and?"

dean does not know how to explain to you that this is a very bad idea. even if technically, the both of you were married by fairy forest law. you'd said that. he was just still playing make believe, still, whereas your ring fell off and into the thick green grass the same very day he'd given it.

so, he's incredibly mature, and instead says, "whatever." and follows you into your dressing room.

a chaotic mess of niceties, as always. all of your makeup is spilled out on the vanity, but it's not cluttered anywhere else but the vanity. flowers and fan gifts line the couch's arms and the coffee table. the tv is set to a nature documentary, a koala slowly eating a piece of bamboo while the narrator's voice rumbles lowly throughout the room.

two wine glasses in the center of the coffee table. horrible of him to let that get into his head. god forbid he start thinking you want him around and not just to monitor your performances and the finer details.

dean carefully slips around you to the mini fridge in one corner of the room. "just a glass, or─"

he never thought that something as simple as turning over his shoulder would cause so much regret within him. you, half naked, the oversized hoodie you'd shown up to the venue in halfway over your head. your bare stomach. your bare legs. the wire of your bra, now the cups, and─

he cleared his throat and turned away. dean needed to get his shit together.

"just a glass. it's the first show of the tour," your voice is muffled through that big ass hoodie, the big ass hoodie he knows you're currently changing out of, jesus, "can't be half drunk on stage. i'm not jensen or charlie."

right. his ( extremely one sided ) competition. what you, or they, didn't know couldn't hurt them.

so, instead of saying everything that starts spiraling when you bring them up, dean practices the underappreciated art of keeping the not nice words to himself, and moves to the wine glasses on the coffee table. fame hungry idiots, the voice in his head grumbles anyways as he pours one glass, egotistical pricks that don't deserve you, no one deserves you.

dean gives himself three minutes before he looks back at you again. just in case you're still practically strip teasing him, taking off your clothes painstakingly so.

no, you're in that sparkly dress now. the matching shoes sit beside your vanity amidst your chaos, right next to the chair you've planted yourself in. your eyes are lined dark, the white powder beneath them dusted away; your lips shine with pink gloss, no longer chapped but just as swollen. jesus. he's off his game.

dean watches as you swipe the lipgloss applicator across your plush bottom lip. he thinks he could die. "can't you tell," he starts slow, as if the words are pushing through his mouth without him being able to stop them, "that i want you?"

it's not the first time that he's confessed to you. but as always, you have this complex in your head, now, since getting famous, that seems to stop you from believing anyone could want you beyond what art you provide to them.

so it's no surprise when you meet his eyes in the mirror's reflection, a little smile pulled onto your lips, and you say, "i would want myself." your fingers lift and make a grabby hand for the wine glass he offered. "besides, what's to want? you already have me."

dean guesses you're right. still married, even if your ring has wilted and become part of the earth again. still married, even if your only obligation to him now is the fact that he works for you, or something like that. still married, even though he knows your hatred for the other bands under your label is a front. you don't look at dean like you look at jensen. you definitely don't laugh like you do with him like you do with charlie.

but who was he to be greedy? they didn't get to watch you put your ensemble together for your tour's first show. they didn't get to watch you eat blueberries that stain your lips brighter pink. they didn't know that the only thing that calmed your pre-show jitters was the national geographic animal documentaries.

so dean would wait, as he always had before, for his wife to turn the light back on for him, and lead him back into the forest, to the altar of their long forgotten vowed promises.

being greedy wouldn't get him anything.

song credits. making this an interconnected universe was such a good idea i cannot wait to write dean beefing (somehow LMFAO) with jensen. and charlie. but mostly jensen bc that's just so funny. wdym they're gonna look the exact same and never acknowledge it while they're throwing hands PLS.

sunny's monthly listeners. to play / pause on being tagged, comment sunshine! @titsout4jackles @moonstruksandco @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @itzavahere @sagegreen17 @bruceewayne @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @deansbeer @blushpinkdoll @warpedless @sabrinasopposite @k-slla @deansbite @foolinthera1n @honeyryewhiskey @angelblqde @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @fallbhind @jackleslvr @figthoughts @beausling @chevroletdean @mccartneyqp @bluestrd @sthefferrete @rubyvhs @tortureddarkstar @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @theosaurous @blushpinkdoll

[cxrsed-angel]

Long Distance Calls| Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut

summary: You call Eddie for you routine phone dates, since you're away at a college and it elevates to phone sex. (late 80s/ early 90s college AU)

warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation (Both m and f), use of a dildo. dirty talk, pet names, (lmk if I forgot anything please)

wc: 2k

a/n: Im in college and was missing Eddie so this was the result and wrote this. Sorry for the shitty header. not proof read or beta read

You lay on your twin XL bed in your dorm, lying on your sheets, on your stomach, fidgeting with the pink phone cord on your pink barbie phone you've definitely outgrown, but your dad said if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, so it came along with you to college. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand. 

You’ve moved a few hours away for college, and since then, you and Eddie have had to get creative with how you spend time together. You would have date calls a few times a week, and then on the three-day weekends or breaks, you would drive up to Hawkins to hang out, or he would drive to you. 

You wait impatiently for Eddie's call, glancing at the clock on the nightstand of your dorm room again, back at the phone, then at the phone, counting the seconds until 10:30 PM. The moment you hear your pink Barbie childhood phone ring at 10:30 PM, right on time, the clock showing 10:30 PM, you pick up, immediately answering.

“Eddie?” you answer, responding faster than usual, too excited, honestly. You really missed Eddie this week. Nothing particularly bad happened this week. You just wished you weren't 5+ hours away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you hear his voice greet you, and you immediately start smiling. The familiar pet name makes your heart race, and even though he says it all the time, you still feel giddy hearing it. 

“Hey Eddie, how was your day?” you ask as you lay in your college dorm bed, the phone in your bed so you're more comfortable. You grab your brown teddy bear, holding it closely. It's the teddy bear he had given you for your one-year anniversary. You hold on to it as he starts sharing about his day. 

“Well, it was pretty boring at the shop. I fixed some cars, the usual. But then I got home to the trailer, and Wayne told me I got a small package from you. Now, I thought it was your usual package with cute little gifts and pictures and stuff, but I was surprised when it was a little naughtier than the usual package from you.” 

Since you’ve gone away to college, you send each other little care packages, small gifts, pictures of things you did that month, letters, small candies, and stuff like that every now and then. 

You frown, trying to remember what you sent since it has been a while since you sent it, but when it comes back, you feel flustered as you remember. You were particularly horny that month, a few days before your period started, and really missed Eddie, so you decided to take some explicit Polaroids while your roommate was away, it was just supposed to be you in some lingerie and suggesting poses, but with your mood, it escalated to photos of you enjoying a toy. A few with the dildo in your mouth sticking out tongue, and you got a little carried away taking some with your pussy wet evident you had cum while the dildo was on display covered in your arousal. 

You smile, flustered. “Oh, did you enjoy it?” you ask, a bit embarrassed, wondering if you had gone too far. You hear him laugh through the phone. 

“Did I enjoy it? Baby, I just opened it and almost came in my jeans. I had to call you and hear your voice. I liked the letter you added, gushing about how much you missed me and wanted me to touch you all over, rubbing my hands along your body and eating that pretty pussy of yours. You were really horny, huh, babe.” 

You nod, feeling yourself getting wetter at his words and the memory of taking all those photos and how you fucked yourself hard on the dildo, thinking of him wishing it was him. “Yeah, Eds, I was-must’ve been ovulating or something,” you laugh lightly, joking as you feel your body getting hotter. 

Eddie hmms, obviously condescendingly, teasing you. “Aww, poor baby. Is your roommate there.” 

“No, she is visiting her family for the weekend.” You hear ruffling through the phone speaker for a few minutes before hearing his voice again. 

“You must’ve really wanted a baby in you sweetheart, because god. These pictures are killing me. You look so sexy posing for me like this. Fuck.” You're quiet as you hear a rhythmic movement through the phone, and once you hear Eddie quiet moaning. 

“Eddie, are you jerking off?” you ask, already knowing the answer. You set the phone down, take your shirt off, and slide your shorts off before picking up the phone again. “Hell yeah, I am, sweetheart. I couldn't help it once I saw that one picture of your pussy wet and swollen from fucking yourself. He grunts as you hear his hand rubbing his shaft.

Your own fingers slip under your shorts and underwear, rubbing your fingers along your wet folds, getting more aroused hearing your boyfriend get off. “You're touching that pretty cunt of yours, got a finger or two circling around your sensitive clit, huh? Imaging it was mine and having my cold rings touching you?”

You nod as your fingers move a bit faster around your wetness, imagining they were his fingers, thicker and rougher compared to yours. Feeling his cold rings against your clit. You close your eyes as the phone rests against your shoulder. You let out breathy moans as you think of the countless times Eddie fingered you when you were back in Hawkins. In his van, under the table while he was waiting for the rest of the party to join the campaign, against a wall at the renaissance fair. You could go on. 

“C’mon princess, this only works when we’re both vocal. I know I have a huge, active imagination, but it can only go so far. Need you tell me whatcha you’re doing over there.” His voice brings you back to the call as a rush of heat floods your body, you’re head getting foggy a little by your arousal. 

You nod even though he can't see. “Sorry baby, your voice is just really sexy.”  You hear Eddie’s deep chuckle from the speaker for a bit before his moan replaces it.  

“ ‘Are you touching my girl for me since I can't be there?” You nod as your face flushes as he refers to your pussy as “his girl.” You pretend to be annoyed when he does it, but you love it. It never fails to make you wet. Your fingers continue circling your cunt as you hear his moans and the sound of Eddie pumping his hard cock.  

“Yeah, Eddie, I am. It feels good, but I want you,” you beg and whine as you continue touching yourself to Eddie's sounds.” 

“She’s missing me, huh? Sounds so fucking pretty, baby, wanna talk to her? Put her on the phone for me, princess.” he groans after speaking a string of curse words coming out under his moans. Your fingers pause, stopping you to turn to look at the phone, confused about what he had just asked.

“Wh-what?” You're met with Eddie’s laugh before he answers. 

“I wanna speak to my girl. Put her on, let me hear her.” you pause for a minute, and you nod your head before slowly putting the receiver to your pussy, slipping your fingers in and out, slowly letting Eddie hear the lewd sounds of you finger fucking yourself.

“Oh fuck…there she is, sounds so fucking good, bet she's all puffy and needy and soaking for me, huh, begging to be fucked.” Eddie moans as you hear him stroking his cock through the receiver. You swear it was the hottest sound. You loved hearing him. 

“Miss you so much, Eddie, fuck…fuck me.” You whine, begging for him. The phone is still close to your cunt, letting Eddie speak to “her.” 

“Fuck I miss her so much, baby, see her in my dreams. God, listen to her, soaking for me isn't she.” You hear his arousal through the speaker, imaging his leaky cock, wishing you could taste him. 

“Eds, I wish I could suck your cock, so bad.” You whine and hear Eddie let out another moan.

“Yea baby? Fuck wish you could too. Shit princess, ‘got that dildo I sent you?” you nod, humming in agreement as you sit up a bit. 

“Go get it, baby wanna hear how you use it. How you fuck yourself with it.” 

“Okay, hold on.” You set the phone down on your bed before hopping off the twin XL bed, going over to your drawer, and grabbing the dildo you have hidden under a pile of socks, along with a bottle of lube. 

“I got it.” you pick up the phone, pulling your underwear down your thighs, taking them off, and tossing them somewhere down on your bed. Waiting for Eddie to respond, but you’re met with gasps and groans and the pornographic wet sounds of his hand moving up and down his shaft. Clearly, he didn't hear you. 

“Eddieeee, this only works when we both talk,” you repeat his words earlier, getting his attention. You hear him let out one deep groan before he talks to you. 

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart, just looking at the picture of your soaking cunt, and its killing me, babe.” you feel yourself getting wetter as you remember the day you took the polaroid. 

 “You got the toy? Rub it over your pretty pussy. Get it wet for me.” 

You listen, grabbing the toy and rubbing it along your slit, covering it in your wetness, teasing yourself with it. The size and length are almost exactly like Eddie’s. You remember seeing Eddie’s face light up when he spots the “Clone-A-Willy” box in the sex shop in Indianapolis, and you remember when he snuck it into your dorm desk drawer while you were moving into your dorm with a pink bow tied around the box and a note. “Not the real thing, but a close second - Eds.” You moan as you slowly rub the head of the toy along your wet folds. 

“Jesus-fuck, you sound so good, baby. Go ahead and put it in for me, baby. I Can hear her begging for it over the phone? She’s been so good suffering all this time without me, go ahead and fuck for me.” 

You nod, listening to him, slowly sliding the toy inside you. You let out a moan as you push the toy in deeper. You still missed Eddie, feeling his hand grip on your waist as he’s inside you, the way he kisses your chest as he thrusts into you, or the way he would move your leg onto his shoulder fucking deeper inside you. Or when he would manhandle you, flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass was up, the sting you’d feel when he would plant a few spanks onto it. 

But the fact that it was a model of his cock, did help, you moan, feeling the familiar stretch of his thickness inside you. 

“Fuck Eddie!” You cry out his name as you continue fucking the dildo into your pussy, the phone lying on the side of your head as you lean back on your pillows, moving it deeper inside you. “Jesus Christ, you sound perfect, like an angel fuck baby. Go on fuck yourself for me, sweetheart.”

You move the toy faster in and out of your achy hole while you’re other hand rubs your clit, the sounds of Eddie jerking off making you wetter.

“Fuck Eddie, I miss you. I miss you so much.“ You moan louder into the phone, getting closer to your release, more from Eddie's moans than anything else, honestly.

“I know, baby, I miss you too, shit. Miss you so fucking much, sweetheart.” He grunts before moaning more, “Goddamn honey, Im…Im about to-“.

You hear eddies moans through the receiver you can tell he's cumming by the sounds of his moans, the string of curses he lets out, and how he gasps before groaning loudly. You can practically see his hard pretty cock spilling his cum onto his hand, probably his stomach too. You wish you could be there, wish he was spilling his cum into you.

You move the dildo and continue to fucking yourself, getting closer as your fingers rub your clit a bit faster, closing your eyes, imagining Eddie hovering over you fucking your deeply, moving your leg over his shoulder, feeling his balls against your pussy.

“E-Eddie…” you whine into the phone, getting closer. 

“You close, baby? I can tell, I can hear it. Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me hear her.” Eddie’s voice sends you over the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over you, moaning eddies name over and over. You open your eyes, coming down from your release, dropping the dildo somewhere on your bed. You breathe heavily, grabbing the phone and putting it back to your ear. “Eddie?” you call him through the phone, and all you hear is Eddie’s laugh. 

“Sweetheart, that was so hot, Jesus Christ. Next weekend I’m coming up there and fucking you in that shitty twin XL all day.” you laugh a bit, sitting up in your bed, you twirling the cord line around your finger and glancing at the brown teddy bear. 

“Promise?” You light up at the thought of spending time with him, seeing him, and hearing his voice in person, touching him. “Yep, I'm taking Friday off, so I can drive up on Thursday and spend the whole weekend with my girl, well, my girls.” You hear him laugh as you hear him shuffling through the phone You roll your eyes at him and his personification of your pussy. You shift, holding the phone with your shoulder as you grab your blanket, pulling it over your legs. “Do you have to go now, or can you talk for a bit?” You ask Eddie, hoping he doesn't have to hang up. You really did miss talking to him.

“No baby, I'm yours all night.”

[mwahbabe]

drop more loser!Chloe content and my life is urs

loser!chloe headcanons♡

mdni, fluff, switch!chloe, nsfw, cunnilingus(r!recieving) (c!recieving) strap on sex,(r!recieving),(c!recieving),scissoring/tribbing, perv!chloe.

a/n: you got it baybee!! omg i need her so bad it’s not a joke nomo😩

✦ loser! chloe who was so scared to hold your hand when you first started dating, doing that pinky thing, inching it closer to yours while you were sitting together or would brush her hand against yours while you’re walking together.

✦ then hesitantly takes your hand and acts nonchalant until seeing your sweet smile and she gives you a goofy grin.

✦ when you started getting closer and more comfortable around each other she just spoils you.

✦ is such a sweet girl.

✦ we’ve seen how she is with those she cares about and trusts

✦ acts like the badass tough punk lesbian but when seeing a hot chic can’t even form a sentence.

✦ once before she met you ofc when a tatted up girl at a concert wearing little to nothing came to ask her where the bathroom was she was standing there with this dumb look on her face before pointing in the direction of it and then proceeded to walk into someone when she turned back around😭😭

✦ still has her “gee wizz that’s my girlfriend? awesome!” moments when she sees you. especially when you’re undressing or getting ready.

✦ sends you stupid memes while you’re in class/at work

✦ like the ones that are so random and unfunny to the point they are funny😭 and the “feeling sad rn send boob pics” ones.

✦ and she sends you stuff that she thinks you will find funny.

✦ was a weird kid in middle school.

✦ argues with little kids on minecraft servers.

✦ golden retriever gf. she will do anything for you and whenever. oh your dvd players broken? all of a sudden she’s a handywoman. you need a specific snack at 3am when it’s raining? she’s getting in the car.

✦ soooo puppy coded. just- look at her. puppy eyed masc.

✦ the type to burn a cd for you with songs that remind her of you.

✦ has tried to pierce herself but couldn’t handle the pain.

✦ 100% tried to act tough during her tattoo but whimpered the whole time.

✦ definitely watched those creepypasta internet videos when she was 13-14 and max got scared while she pretended they didn’t scare her but couldn’t sleep for weeks.

✦ was secretly a fan of monster high even if she had barbie dolls growing up. thought they were all hot. and def had a crush on clawdeen. cuz she’s a lesbian in love with her bsf? lol get it?

✦ her instagram is probably so empty except for a profile picture of a dumb shark meme she just hasn’t bothered changing. and maybe posts once a month and somehow has lots of followers.

✦ definately loves sharks because they’re “badass and eat people”

✦ but it’s so fitting because they’re actually so misunderstood and seen as mean and aggressive but are mostly just sea puppies

♡

nsfw

✦ loser!chloe who absolutely begs to eat you out. she loves it. will have her face buried between your thighs for hours.

“please babe… c’mon just one more? please?”

✦ gets so carried away she forgets you’re overstimulated, she just enjoys eating your pussy so much.

✦ even came in her pants from your sounds and the taste of you alone.

✦ loves when you ride her face. she doesn’t care if she can’t breathe. just sit on it. breathing is overrated anyway.

✦ loser!chloe who cums too fast during tribbing and has to pull away and eat your pussy a little before putting your leg back over her shoulder so she won’t cum before you.

✦ such a loser she steals stuff of yours, like bracelets, lipgloss, hair ties, …your panties from the laundry hamper.

✦ sniffs them while her fingers are pumping in and out of her cunt that’s embarrassingly soaked. her eyes rolling back as her cunt clamps down on her fingers smelling the fabric before putting it back acting like nothing happened.

✦ SERVICE TOP!!!

✦ loves making you feel good. it’s her purpose. her job. and she’s damn good at it. round after round of turning you into a mess gives her a sense of pride and like she’s doing right and making the love of her life feel good and satisfied.

✦ gets off on you getting off.

✦ if you’re a pillow princess she love love loves you.

✦ lay there and look pretty with your legs spread or over her shoulders orr on your stomach face down ass up while her strap is buried in you? absofuckinglutely.

✦ this girl is a whimperer. idc. she has pretty moans and gets embarrassed by it especially how she moans like she’s the one being pleasured when fucking you.

✦ loserrrr chloe who has wet dreams about you while you’re sleeping next to her and has to rub one out and muffle her moans and whimpers to not wake you.

✦ if you’re more of a dominant person she also loves you.

✦ sub chloe is so needy and such a brat<3

✦ when you eat her out she’s a mess. trying to conceal her moans letting out grunts and covering her mouth until she gets close and these pretty whines and groans come from her as she cums all over your face.

✦ when you first use the strap on her, she gets so flustered at how slutty she sounds as the toy slides in and out of her and the angle you’re fucking her in making her lose her mind.

✦ then will deny anything she said or how she sounded if you bring it up.

“shut up! you’re such an ass.”

✦ yea her loser ass loves you<33

[starkwlkr]

banned | charles leclerc

Charles and Y/N were in bed watching some netflix documentary. It was a Saturday morning, the couple didn't have any plans so they decided to stay in bed for an extra hour. Ruby was in her room playing with her dolls, but as time went on, she walked into her parent's room, still in her pajamas, and told them she had gotten bored of her barbies.

"Papa, can I play a game on your phone?" Ruby asked, climbing onto the bed and laying ontop of Charles.

"What happened to your iPad?" Charles questioned.

"Its with grand-mère, I forgot it." Ruby frowned.

"Okay, but not for too long." Charles sighed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "If someone calls, bring it to me, okay?"

Ruby nodded and climbed off. Her little feet took her to the living room. She sat on the couch and tried to find the game Charles had installed for her to play. Instead of clicking on the game, a certain colorful app caught her eye. She clicked on the Instagram app and the first thing she saw on Charles' feed was a picture of Y/N that she had posted recently. Her chubby fingers clicked on the heart then clicked on the comments. She knew how to spell since Y/N and Charles were teaching her so she slowly typed out a comment.

charles_leclerc MOMMY

seconds later, hundreds of notifications came flooding in.

f1lucyyy CHARLES WHAT

forzacharles SAME CHARLES

gasly10pierre he's so real for that

back in Charles and Y/N bedroom, Charles was too focused on giving his wife her morning kisses. They had completely forgotten about the documentary that was playing on the tv. Y/N was also too busy to even notice the notifications going off from her phone.

Ruby was having too much fun with her dad's phone. She kept liking photos and even took some up close photos of her face with funny filters. That's when she saw the LIVE option. Ruby, being the curious girl she is, clicked on LIVE and wondered what it was doing.

charles_leclerc started a live video

The screen showed her face, but nothing was happening. She was extremely confused. Then the comments started popping up.

schumacherlegacy BABY LECLERC

vettel.jpg BABY LECLERC WHATS YOUR DAD'S CREDIT CARD NUMBER

f1weekly yooo house tour

f1paddockgirlies omg someone screen record this iconic moment

"What's a credit card?" Ruby asked as if someone was going to tell her. She thought it was recording so an idea popped up in her head. She raced to her room with Charles' phone in hand and grabbed her favorite barbies. As she ran back, Charles called her name, unaware that his phone was capturing everything.

"Ruby! Slow down, I don't want you to fall." Charles called out.

al0nz04 OMG HER NAME IS RUBY

norriswag RUBY OMG WE FINALLY KNOW HER NAME

leclercxl/n i feel like i shouldn't be watching this 😭 she probably doesn't even know what's going on

y/nscloset guys don't screen record!! she's a child, we shouldn't be spreading information about her without y/n or charles knowing

"Sorry, papa." Ruby apologized.

"Its okay, baby. Are you hungry?" Y/N asked her daughter.

"No," Ruby quickly said and ran back to the living room.

"Ruby Jules!"

f1gossip omg they named her after jules 😭

wagstyle ok charles come get ur child before she leaks your address

Ruby positioned the phone against her mom's favorite candle and showed the camera a barbie that her uncle Lorenzo had gotten her.

"I like this one. She has pretty hair and my uncle Enzo got it for me." She brought the barbie extremely close to the camera.

leclercfamily she's in her vlog era

Ruby then set the barbie down and grabbed her favorite american girl doll that Charles got for her. "Papa got me this one. She has purple hair and has a crown, see?" Ruby showed the camera yet again. "I have more. And I have things for her hair." This time she ran to her playroom where most of her dolls were located. Instead of taking the phone with her, she left it propped up against the candle.

This game the users a clear view of the Leclerc family home, well some of it.

maxsupermax they really have a giant ass piano in their living room.

buttonvettel IS THAT THE MONZA TROPHY JUST SITTING BY THE DOOR

Ruby came back with all her american girl doll accessories. They were in the classic american girl red bag, but Ruby decided to dump it all on the floor.

"Ruby! What are you doing?" Y/N called out as Charles kissed her neck.

"Playing." Ruby said casually.

"Charles, get up. This girl might be writing on the walls." Y/N said, but Charles wouldn't get off of her.

"She's playing on my phone, she's okay."

"Still, let me get up. My amazon package gets delivered today. Get up, Perceval!" Y/N pinched his side, causing him to groan in pain and finally get off his wife.

Charles dramatically rolled onto his side. "It hurts. It hurts more when you don't have a shirt on."

"You're alive, dear husband." Y/N rolled her eyes and got up from the bed. She put on her slippers, not bothering to put on a proper shirt so she walked to the front door in her matching black silk shorts and lace top. She failed to notice her daughter on Instagram live.

y/nisamilf Y/N TURN AROUND

ricciardofiles RUBY GET UR MOM

verstappenxpiquet does she even know how to read?

"I know how to read." Ruby said to the camera.

Once Y/N opened the door, she heard her daughter say something. "What did you say, baby?" She said, still not looking in Ruby's direction as she retrieved her package from the front door.

"I said i know how to read." Ruby replied.

"Yeah, you do. You're a smart girl." Y/N nodded and went to her office that was right next to Ruby's play room.

Ruby continued showing the camera her toys.

leclercstype american girl haul slay

formulahoe STOP THIS IS GOING ON FOR TOO LONG

paddockbitches ruby is MY world champion

Then Charles finally came into the frame. He was shirtless so all the comments went by too fast for Ruby to read. Like Y/N, he didn't notice Ruby trying to read comments on the phone.

As Charles was about to ask Ruby what she wanted for breakfast, Y/N's phone started to ring. Charles quickly made his way back to the shared bedroom. He looked at the phone screen and saw that his brother Arthur was the one calling. He answered the call.

"Hey, good morning-"

"Get your phone! Ruby is on Instagram live!" Arthur said.

"What?"

"She's live, Charles!"

Charles quickly ran to the living room to find Ruby showing the camera a framed photo of Charles and Y/N's wedding. "Ruby, give me the phone!" Charles raised his voice, making Y/N come out of her office wondering what was going on.

"I was showing the pretty picture!"

Y/N ran to Ruby and saw that she was showing the viewers her wedding picture. "Baby, give papa his phone back."

"Okay. The game was boring." Ruby handed Charles his phone back and went to her playroom.

Charles quickly ended the live and put his phone on the coffee table. "She's never playing on my phone ever again."

"Who told you she was on Instagram?" Y/N asked.

"Arthur. He called you, I answered. He probably got a notification that ruby went live." Charles sighed. "Well, I think everyone knows her name by now."

"Oh my god, wait give me my phone. I have your post notifications on." Y/N gasped.

Charles handed her her phone. He watched as she scrolled through all the Instagram notifications. She then held the phone out for him to see. "She used your account to comment on my picture. Look what she said."

Charles laughed at the comment. "Well she's not wrong. The fans did call you a milf."

"Imagine the ones that missed Ruby's live, they're going to see this comment and think that you have some weird kink. Good luck explaining that, Perceval." Y/N kissed Charles' cheek and went to Ruby's playroom.

"From now on, Ruby is on a phone ban!"

ruby is so chaotic i love her, she's my fav leclerc fr