#sugar momma! reader

[penvisions]

services requested {chapter four}

Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of your explosive interaction with Joel, you decide to get some space. He finds out in the middle of helping Ellie with something by the way of your mother bringing by a set of keys for him. Will he make it to the airport in time to tell you how sorry he is?

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, power dynamics, sexual undertones, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, light angst, mentions of infinitely (not joel or reader, mentions of past trauma, allusions to power imbalances within the tattoo world, reader is depicted to have a manic anxiety attack, reader is terrified of flying, use of prescription drugs to sooth anxiety, airport rush scene bc come oooooon lol, masturbation (male), i think that's it!

A/N: so i'm moving forward with stuff to prepare for a hip surgery. it's been a long journey of just managing the pain and finally finding an answer to eradicating it. unfortunately, my insurance will not be covering the testing that determines if i'm a good candidate, so that will require me to pick up a few extra shifts. i've linked my kofi if anyone is feeling generous but there is no pressure or need to. dropping this and running to get back to school work, love y'all!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The first deposit approval is staring you in the face. The payroll website that you use for your assistant and will be using for your own business once it’s all finalized and ready to operate is the only window open on your laptop.

Joel Miller – pending approval

It’s in bold since you haven’t pressed any buttons, any options. Because honestly? You’re at a loss as to what to do. You haven’t heard from the man since he all but berated you nearly a week ago. And the truth is that he had scared you when he did it. The way the whites of his eyes were visible in the faint light coming off of the streetlamps, the way he had raised his voice in almost a growl of frustration, the sheer size of him as he stalked into the house behind you.

Even if you knew, deep down in your very soul- he wouldn’t do anything to physically hurt you.

With a puff of your cheeks, you press a finger pad to the keyboard and press process deposit.

Sighing out your held breath, you move away from the laptop settled atop the desk and continue packing. Joel isn’t the only one going out of town, you reached out to a friend in California to go and work a guest spot at the independent shop they were opening. A break, a little breather to get out of a house all to yourself that you needed work done on to truly make the space yours.

You were too…everything right now to reach out to the man who you just paid to be in your services.

But you didn’t want to bother him, to agitate him, to make him feel any pressure about deciding what to do. Giving him the space and chance to make up his mind was both the polite and professional thing to do in this situation. That’s the comfort you told yourself in regards to your decision on how to handle the circumstances you found yourself in.

You’ve already taken his words and dissected them, going over them with your therapist. And she was right, he was reacting to the combination of outdated information and something from his own life. You want to forgive him, to move past it but it was going to take time, you know that. So you give him the space you know he needs, that you need to. As long as he apologizes, you know your heart will soften through the residual hurt and anger that you’ve already begun to work through.

Joel is staring at the dark screen of the new phone you sent. He’s plugged it in, the little charging symbol flashing at him before it disappears. He’s waiting now, for it to turn on. The code to synch up your schedule onto his calendar on a post it note alongside the password and username combination for him to long into the bank app to see the available funds on the work card you gave him with the contract. He hadn’t used it yet, feeling like he wasn’t worthy of the dollars and cents.

It hits him like a punch to the gut, when he see’s the bold words that spell out a phone call you’ve blocked off an entire hour for:

Case Attorney, parameters of protection. 2pm-3pm.

It’s nestled neatly among consultations and appointments that range from two hours to six hours, reminders to call and check supply orders and the status of the permits he’s already called after to secure timely dates. There are no dates blocked off, even if all there is listed on some appointments for nails, for hair, for everything and anything.

Busy. Always filling your time with something. And it all makes so much sense, if you’ve made a name for yourself, have the funds that you do.

He looks over at the blueprints for the house you finalized on, something you never mentioned until it was all set and done- inferring that this would be one the things he can handle for you in that initial meeting regarding the contract.

You were lonely, must be, he realizes it at the same time he feels it himself. He got so used to the daily conversations and interactions with you, the mundane tasks that didn’t feel so monotonous with you popping in and out of the house while they worked. Even just those first few days after the job was completed, you both continued to see each other. But now…

It’s been nearly a week since he’s seen you, more time since he’s interacted with you- like really, truly interacted with you. Since he yelled at you in your new home, demanded where your husband was and what role he would have in this agreement the two of you made. Joel likes to believe he’s got a level head atop his shoulders, but the truth is that he feels so all encompassing sometimes.

With Sarah, with Elle, with his brother- all three of them pull his heartstrings, strike the match of annoyance and anger, fuel his fierce protective side.

With a sigh, he pulls up your name in his messages. There is no previous thread, nothing transferred from his older phone due to the incapabilities of the new software. He isn’t sure how to reach out so he falls back on being professional. He settles with a summary of the good bones of your house, the suggested work being something he can more than aptly make a reality and then ends the message with a question for the best start date.

But you don’t respond, either busy or sleeping- he realizes the early hour and scolds himself. Of course you’re asleep, it’s only five in the morning. He sighs and looks out the window that his dresser is pushed up against. The sun is barely beginning to peak over the horizon, the sky a deep blue that a few stars shine in.

He startles when his phone beeps where he discarded it on the comforter.

A date, where the samples of what tile and paint you want will be left on the island in the kitchen for him. You’ll be busy with work most days, will probably miss him completely and he doesn’t think anything of it.

Until later that day when Ellie brings you up.

“Hey, I think I saw something about Grey going on a trip online.”

“What?” Joel does an amazing job of keeping his cool at the sudden news, the screwdriver in his hand drops and falls to the floor. Landing in the carpet with a dull thud before bouncing and hitting the top of his bare foot where he’s crouched down and fixing a loose shelf in one of Ellie’s bookcases. He hisses as it thunks, pain shooting across the muscles there and swelling immediately.

“It looks like she’s going to be a guest artist at a new place opening in LA.” Ellie says from where she’s cross legged in her desk chair, laptop open and displaying the piece of art she’s using as a reference for a project that’s due later in the week. She’s in one course this summer, going back to full time in the fall when that time of the year rolls around.

“She would’ve told me if she was going out of town.” At least he thinks you would, how else would he be able to begin working on the renovation of your home?

“I mean…are you sure about that with how things…?” Ellie hesitantly says, her brow furrowed in much the same way that Joel’s does, despite no direct blood relation.

“I…I would hope she would tell me, considering I have the blueprints for her house and the details of the renovation with a start date.” He picks the screwdriver back up and makes sure that his task is complete.

“Have you reached out?”

“…no.” He doesn’t turn to her, despite feeling her eyes on him from across the room.

“Well, there you go.”

“We leave in four days, there’s…”

A knock at the door has him whipping his head in that direction, completely blindsided by the direction of the conversation and someone calling upon him in the middle of the afternoon.

When he swings it open, your mother is standing there with a soft smile. She greets him, dangling a ring with three keys securely looped on it and announces that they’re for him.

“Grey left these for ya, said you’d need them to start on the job when you get back from Philly?” She pins him with a smirk, knowing she’s caught in the middle of something between the two of you. The higher pitch of your voice at the end of her sentence telling him that she’s looking for confirmation.

“Doin’ the reservations on her house.” He entertains her, though she probably already knows if she has the keys in her grip.

“Oh! That’s so lovely, you’ll do an amazing job just like you did with our house, I just know it.” She winks at him, offering the ring to him and plopping it in his palm when he holds it up. “Just make sure to lock the door back behind you and I’m sure she’s left a note of which lamp to leave on so the house doesn’t look empty at night.”

“Noticed she has a lot of late nights, I can definitely do that.” Joel feels his smile begin to melt the longer he realizes that your mother is talking so casually about the way he interacts with her daughter. How he’s watched you enough to notice certain mannerisms and routines.

Lydia stares at him over the threshold. Her sharp eyes finding the cracks in his demeanor, the effects of his harsh words, sleepless nights, and nose to the grind days. Joel’s heart beats steadily as she regards him, racketing up the longer the look lasts but especially when she gasps in the middle of her next sentence.

“She does normally, but- oh dear, she didn’t tell you?” The woman blinks and concerned wrinkles form in her brow and around her nose as she scrunches it in much the same way you do when you laugh.

“Tell me what?” Joel croaks, unable to dispel the anxiety and fear that bubbles up to fill his chest painfully. His breathing shallows as his mind works through all of the worst-case scenarios of you being in the hospital or something happening to you at the shop. His fingers tighten around the keys in his hand, the metal bites into the calluses from wielding tools his entire adult life.

“She’s gone to do a guest spot at a friend’s shop in LA for a few weeks. Manny is dropping her off right now, her flight leaves in a few hours.” Her announcement freezes time completely, Ellie was right. You were leaving without telling him. Running because he gave you a reason to.

“Shit.” He pockets the keys and shoves his feet into a pair of worn cowboy boots. Lydia moves aside quickly, avoiding him as he rushes past. His heart is pounding as he pictures you alone in the airport, swathed in one of the big, chunky cardigans that you favor. Shoving the keys into the ignition, the truck roars to life. Words from a past conversation echoing in his mind.

‘You look over at him and Joel feels his chest tighten as you smile sadly at him, lips barely lifting up.

“My parents are boarding.” He sees in the way you fiddle with your phone, fingers tapping long nails against the case, the way you focus completely on the screen. You’re nervous.

“Long flight, huh?” He set the roller in his grip down into the pan he’s poured a bit of paint in, making sure it’s not going to tip over before he wipes his hands on his stained jeans and gently pulls the phone from your grip. “Ain’t no use hyperfixatin’ on it. How long is the flight?”

“Something insane like fourteen hours. God, I couldn’t.”

“Not a fan of flyin?”

“Honestly? No, it turns me into a nervous wreck, I’d rather drive for three days to get somewhere than take a five hour flight.” You don’t meet his eyes, almost bashful at the admittance. But he watches you, sees the truth behind your words and he wants to pull you into a hug. But that would be a line, so he just reached out a hand to cup your shoulder as he moves around you, squeezing it in a quiet comfort.’

“Her flight takes off at gate 42A!” He waves a hand up through the open window to signal that he hears her shout, and his truck takes off down the street. “It’s a Delta flight!”

Ellie sidles up to Lydia with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips.

“Oh, he’s got it baaaad.” Your mom says with a sweet laugh. Watching the way his taillights disappear around the street that runs perpendicular to the cul-de-sac.

“You have no idea.” Ellie shoves at her with an elbow, cackling at the way the woman scoffs in mock hurt and places a hand over her heart.

“Oh shut up, I didn’t even get you that hard.” She defends, shaking her head at the antics of her neighbor.

“Ellie, you little shit, I swear I shouldn’t invite you over for dinner. But I have a feeling your lovesick papa is gonna go as far as boarding a plane to fix whatever he did.” She tosses an arm over Ellie’s shoulders and tugs her close.

“Fuck, you’re right. He didn’t leave any money for food.” Her face falls and the words settle in.

“Alright, c’mon- I’ve got enchiladas comin’ out of the oven any minute now. Manny should be back soon too, she never lets us stay with her at the gate. She’s a tough cookie, that girl.”

“She really is,” Ellie makes sure to lock the door behind her and follows you mom across the street. “So what kinda enchiladas?”

Brakes screech as Joel comes to a harsh start in front of the valet stand. The logo for your airline hanging above the designated spot for pull overs and pickups. He jerks the gear shift into park, grabs a flannel from the back and shrugs it on as he rounds the front of the truck. He tosses the keys to the guy who looks up from his phone at the stand.

“Hello, sir, would you like long- or short-term parking today?” Joel pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and hands over his personal bank card. He’ll gladly pay anything out of pocket to mend the damage he’s done. He just wants to get to you before boarding begins. He got stuck in traffic, of course, making his little drive into an hour long deal that had his sighing heavily and hitting his fists to the steering wheel more times than he could count.

“Uh, whatever works. Short term shifts to longer after what- 24 hours?”

“That’s correct, sir.” The attendant tears off a receipt from a small printer, it’s got Joel’s name on it and the type of car he has. He’s ushering a quick thank you before rushing inside and going straight to the boards that show the departures. He whips his head back and forth, sweeping the area for arrows to direct him to the correct terminal that hosts your gate.

He’s just stepped onto the escalator to go up two floors when he spots a flash of sun glinting off of a watch. His chest tightens as he sees you standing out on the balcony for the floor he’s about to reach, putting out the butt of one cigarette and immediately move to light another. He can practically smell the smoke from it mixed with your perfume, and he takes a deep breath before an announcement calling for preboarding for your flight along with two others.

“Shit,” He mutters to himself as he gets to the top of the escalator. There’s a short line to go through security and they’re asking for boarding passes. He mentally steels himself, getting his wallet out and gritting his teeth as he approaches at the motion of the woman at the podium. He’s not the biggest fan of flying either, it’s always too cramped, too stuffy, it makes his anxiety bubble up. But you need him, more than he dislikes the very same thing as you do.

“Hi, I’d like to book a seat on the Los Angeles flight departing from gate 42A, ma’am.”

It’s been a shitty day, your morning client didn’t show up and the person who took the spot for a walk in wanted something too complicated for the time slot you had available. So you settled on a consultation instead. Anxiety steadily builds in your entire body, humming through you more efficiently than caffeine or the nutrient packed meal you had for lunch at your parents to keep you awake and moving. The bag you packed that morning sits beside you as you father drives you to the airport.

“No need to check the car in, when you’ve got me to help ya!”

“Dad, I really wouldn’t have minded. What if my return flight comes in super late or like really early?”

“Well, we ain’t workin’ too much these days, so shut up and drink your smoothie.”

“Well then.” You huff out a nervous laugh, the taste of peaches and passion fruit souring on your tongue as you take a big sip through the plastic straw.

“So,” He glances over at you as he signals to take the exit for the airport coming up in two miles. The highway is busy, right in the middle of the city. The word is drawn out, something riding the undercurrent of it and you look over at him with a raised brow.

“So?”

“Joel’s been a little distant since the remodel.”

“He’s busy, dad, running his own company and all.” You look back out the window, fingers trailing through the condensation on your plastic cup.

“Seems like he’s avoidin’ you, should you be over at ours.” And damn if your dad didn’t hit the nail on the head. You were both avoiding each other, too much brimming and needing to be dealt with but neither of you knowing how to begin to.

“No, we just…had a little miscommunication about the work he’s doing on my place.” A sliver of the truth is all you can offer, a little white lie.

“Hmm, okay. But don’t be too hard on him, he don’t have many people in his life ‘n he seems to have taken a liking to you.” Mulling over his words, you recall the way Joel once said that since his brother became so unreliable, he forfeited his only night out a week to go to the bar and decompress.

“Everything is okay, dad. I promise I’m not getting between you two. Invite him over if you wanna hang out with him.” Regret and guilt bubbles up, you truly didn’t mean to affect the way your parents and Joel interact. They were friends, all of them. You were simply the person who hired him as a handy man, the term kept man a little too close to the truth. But it lingers in the back of your mind. Joel is more than just a handy man, he’s someone who you talked to in the quiet moments and want to take care of.

“Wouldn’t be so bad if you did get between the two of us, never seem him look so…down. Maybe you could take him out to a nice dinner, don’t know when the last time anyone did something’ like that for him. He let’s your mom and me cook for him, sure, but it’s not the same. So stubborn on that front, but I’m sure you could convince him.”

You don’t exchange any more words as he pulls up to the drop off zone. With a kiss to your forehead and a crushing hug, he shoves you toward the entrance with a ‘now get outta here and go do your thing!’.

The nicotine was doing little to calm your nerves, you hated flying with passion.  It was one of the things you didn’t have the guts to handle, even if it was a normal part of life.

You put out the cigarette you just lit when you notice the tremors of your hand shaking it so much the ash rains down onto the concrete of the balcony. You walk as quickly as you can through the main throughfare you know your gate is off of. You’ve got the last boarding group, which gives you enough time to collect yourself. Your intensions of splashing water on your face and taking a few deep breaths completely derails when you see that the bathroom is empty and a sob lurches out of your chest. With shaking hands, you plop your duffel bag onto the wall that backs up to the entrance and lean back against it.

Your head is raised as you try to keep the tears at bay, but they leak out anyway, in hot streaks down your cheeks as you slide down the slick tile and thud heavily on your butt.

With a pounding heart, a heavy weight in your stomach and twitching nerves, you sit there in the bathroom and succumb to the tears. Public setting or not be damned.

The last time you were on a plane had been one of the clearest recollections of what hinted you toward what was going on with your now ex-husband. Someone who normally comforted you and got you through the few flights that had to be taken. The last time though…

‘Micah is staring at his phone as they call for boarding, your group the first due to first class. He said he wanted to treat you, make the ordeal a little easier since your nerves got the best of you. Letting out a deep breath, you go to reach for the strap of your duffel bag and sling it over a shoulder. The tickets are loaded individually on your phones, something that you didn’t think much about.

He’s so wrapped up in whatever is on the screen that he startles when you walk behind him and wrap your arms around his neck to whisper in his ear that they’re calling for your group.

“Jesus, Grey! Don’t be doing shit like that, seriously!” He’s up like a rocket, his phone screen locking. An apology falls from you, claiming you didn’t know he would react so badly. “It’s bad enough you turn into a literal child when it comes to flying, but it doesn’t mean you have to be all clingy and invade my personal space.”

All you can do is nod once, to let him know you hear him and acknowledge what he’s saying. Even if it hurts, even if it does nothing but rachet up the feeling of a balloon inflating impossibly large inside your chest, too big to fill into the small space and making the air in your lungs feel like a monumental task to breath in and out. He doesn’t reach for your hand or usher you ahead of him with a guiding hand on the small of your back. He almost makes it look as if the two of you aren’t even traveling together as he gets into the line, not bothering to wait for you while your boarding pass gets scanned and verified.

He's already seated in the row that will house you two for the next seven hours, a trip out to Philly for the next month. A bottle of water in his grip while he scrolls on his phone with that same concentration as before. And you hate the way that your heart mends a little when the plane begins to glide across the tarmac and Michah reaches over to tangle his fingers in your own.’

You’re so lost in your feelings and memories that you ignore the loud rush of stomping steps that burst into the bathroom. It’s probably just someone who got off of a flight or someone rushing before they board.  

“There you are,” You hear the sudden timbre of Joel’s southern drawl laced voice. Your head whips up to reveal your tear stained face slack in complete surprise.

“J-Joel? What- what are you doing here?” You roughly wipe the sleeve of your cardigan underneath an eye to dispel the wetness from your tears. His face softens from panicked to a sad smile as he kneels down in front of you and runs a hand over your mussed hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“You don’t like flyin’.” He cups the side of your face, thumb wiping the wetness there you didn’t manage to get yourself. You don’t flinch away from him as his eyes meet yours, even if a knot lodges itself in your throat.

“Well, yes, that’s correct but-“ You begin to shake your head, the last words he spoke to you hanging heavy in the air.

“Look, I know, okay? I know things are all out of sorts with us, but you…you needed someone and I’m here.” He’s unprepared for you to launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and your face burying into his chest. He lets out a little ‘oof’ as his butt makes contact with the tile but wraps his arms around your back all the same. The cherry of your perfume and the smoke from the cigarette fills his lungs and he feels like it’s the first full breath he’s taken since the past confrontation. His scent, spicy and woodsy overwhelms you as you embrace, doing much the same to you.

“You’re so stupid.” You whisper, lips brushing against the soft skin of his neck. The urge to bite into the tan expanse overtakes you and your lips purse at keeping the action securely in your mind.

“I know, sweet girl, I know.” He’s completely serious, his voice barely a whisper in imitation of yours- not wanting to break the fragile moment. You can feel the guilt he carries in the firm way he holds you, in his very breath as you lean against him and move his chest as it rises and falls.

“You bought a flight to get through the line and into the terminal.”

“Guess that means we’re going to LA.”

“You leave for Philly in a few days.”

“Ellie is perfectly capable of flying out from here and I can always fly out from LA. I ain’t worried about that, I’m worried about you.” His confidence in the girl he raised obvious, pride in his tone as he realizes himself that she’s nearly grown as much as she will be.

“Shut up, you’re not real.”

“Real as you are, have a hard time believing it when you’re not around.”

“You can’t possibly be this flirty all the time, it’s not fair.”

“I’m gonna let you get away with sayin’ anything you want right now, cause you’re going through it.” He chuckles, his body shaking yours as he loses his composure at the things you have no filter for.

He’s pulling back slightly, his nose brushing your forehead and down your temple. Your breath hitches as you feel the jump in his heart beating in his chest, your eyes flashing up to meet his. Tension fills the bright room, bouncing off the tile and coursing through the air that almost sizzles between the very little space that separates your bodies. His hands are firm and wide on the whole of your back, fingers flexing as you glance down at his plus lips so- dizzyingly close.

The sound of someone entering the space and a shocked gasp as you jerking away from him suddenly, hands detangling from him as he moves slower to mirror your actions.

“Apologies, ma’am. Little pre-trip jitters is all.” Joel offers you a steady hand to stand, remaining on the floor until you’re back up on your feet, eyes trained on your boots. With a small grunt, he’s standing too and reaching for your bag as the woman scurries to one of the stalls and the lock clicks into place. The light music playing over the speakers pauses to announce the boarding for your flight and you two move together to exit the bathroom.

“It’s gonna be okay, I swear to you.” He’s pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, tickling you as his scruff brushes there. “Now let’s catch our flight.”

Joel watches quietly as you down two of the little shot bottles you purchased from the flight attendant the second she came around with the drink cart. He felt you reach for his hand the moment the plane began to taxi along the tarmac, your grip vice like as the aircraft built speed to take off. He tried not to clamp his hand around yours to give way his own discomfort at flying, wanting to ensure that you were tended to over himself. You were so tense still, your entire body rigid beside him.

He let you get him a bottle of water, though he had yet to crack the seal on it.

The window was closed, his body shieling you on the other side from the aisle, business class only holding two larger seats to a row. You had upgraded his seat and covered the cost so you two could be beside each other and he’s grateful, not even thinking of the original seat he may have gotten.

It’s well into the flight and he sees you bend down to dig into the duffel you insisted at having stored by your feet. The rattle of a pills in a translucent orange bottle draws his eyes from where he focused on cleaning the lenses of his thick framed glasses.

“These might make me a little sleepy, but, um, the rental car is through enterprise and the hotel is through a local place downtown.” He opens the water for you to down two pills, taking a sip before he twists the cap back on, shoulder warming as you lean against him, arm wrapped around his bicep and fingers tangling with his. It’s close, it’s contact, and he hopes you can’t hear the way his heart thuds in his chest as he pictures you doing so under less extreme circumstances. He worries he’s truly messed everything up, but you’re letting him be the support you need and that’s a big step in the right direction to mending what he almost burned down.

“I’ll make sure we get there safely, just worry about keeping calm. I got it, sweetheart.” The soft rumble of his voice sooths you, he knows as soon as your eyes drift shut and your breathing evens out.

Hours later, you begin to stir and feel marginally better. Everything is foggy through your sluggish mind, but you trust Joel to help you unbuckle from the seat as the plane finally comes to a stop after landing.

He does just as he promises, holding you securely to his side as you sleepily follow his guiding movements. The rental desk asks for the card on file and he’s leaning down and murmuring if he can dig it out of your bag slung over his shoulder. Your little hum of approval has him unzipping the side pocket before your voice reminds him that he needs to add himself down as a driver.

“Thank you, you and your wife enjoy your visit!”

The word slaps him in the face even as he tries to smile politely at the woman, turning away from the desk and guiding you over to the car. He secures you in the passenger seat before carefully placing your bag in the backseat.

“Sweetheart, what hotel did you book?” He watches as you pat yourself down, searching for something and then it clicks. Your phone. That’s in his own pocket, you pushed it into his hands back on the plane.

“I’ve got your phone here, Grey. I turned it on after we landed,” Joel hands it over and you blearily look down at the screen, little groans slipping past your lips as you sift through all the notifications to find what you were looking for. You turn it toward him and he sees the reservation, typing in the address listed in his own phone. He’ll text Ellie once everything is settled, more than the ‘landed safe’ he did as soon as the pilot turned off the fastened seatbelt sign.

As he turns the engine and maneuvers out of the parking lot and into the glittering city, he hears your phone ringing as it calls out.

“Hey momma, we made it.”

“Oh good! I assumed Joel managed to catch you, he rushed off so quickly.” Lydia’s voice chimes like tin through the line. “I’ve got Ellie over here, we’re playing monopoly and-“

“It’s late, let her go to bed.” You admonish and Joel smiles to himself at the concern you hold for his daughter thought you’ve yet to meet her.

“I’m fine! Glad you and dad are safe! Tell him he didn’t leave any food money!” Ellie’s loud voice causes you to pull the phone away from your ear and Joel smirks at the sight out of the corner of his eye.

“I think he heard ya, kid.” Your own sleepy smile softens the scene, making it more intimate in the close quarters of the cab. The rest of the call is at an appropriate volume and you assure her that you’ll make sure money gets sent over. As Joel signals to turn into the hotel entrance, you motion to the valet for him to stop at.

“Jus’ wanna sleep.” You mumble as you begin to disrobe, unaware of him freezing by the door as you do so. The skin you expose to him not even a thought as you hang your cardigan on the back of the chair at the desk and move to place your leggings there too. Your baggy shirt and underwear allowing for your legs to be on display, the ink that decorates them catching the low lights left on for those like you with late check ins. The snap of elastic as you unhook your bra is the last thing preventing you from laying down and you move toward the big bed to peel back the covers.

Slipping inside, you don’t even manage to get them over your body before you’re gone from the world and snoring softly.

Letting out the breath caught in his throat, Joel puts down the duffel bag and steps out of his cowboy boots before going into the bathroom. He hangs his head as his hands grip tight to the edge of the vanity in the large bathroom, a bathtub and glass panel shower filling the space. He dims the lights so they don’t sneak underneath the door, though he doubts you would stir at much right now.

He’s hard.

Arousal striking hot like a hook around his navel the second you began to take your clothes off and he feels like an old creep for the way his body chose to respond. You’re vulnerable, someone who trusts him to keep you safe. He wonders if he should go back down to the lobby and book himself a room, but…he doesn’t want to.

The shower doesn’t sputter to life as he turns the nob, it gently rains down instantly hot water and he groans as it runs over his exhausted muscles. He takes his time washing with the supplies already in the stall on a small alcove shelf. The same scent he recognizes from time spent with you, the hotel must’ve stocked your choice of products and he breaths in the comforting mix of lemon, cherry, and rose.

A hand drifts down to where he’s still hard between his legs, soap suds trailing down his body to envelop him completely in your scent and his breath sucks in the moment he wraps a wide palm around himself.

“Fuck.” He whispers, he’s really about to do this with you only one wall away. Fuck, he really is and it only takes him a few strokes before his orgasm blinds him, glittering stars of white clouding his vision as it buckles his knees and pulses out to paint the tiles. He’s panting heavily, the sensation almost too much as he pictures the way your legs looked, completely bare underneath your shirt. The little hint of your ass he got a good view of as you leaned over to pull the covers away from the bed.

The words of that particular clause in his contract float in his mind’s eye and he sucks in a deep breath. A decision on how to traverse that particular aspect of your relationship completely up to him. And god, does he want to keep up the casual and comforting touches, to feel the soft brush of your fingers against his own skin. But it’s okay, there’s time.

Damp and completely relaxed, Joel busies himself setting up the couch for him to sleep on with the extra blankets folded in the closet. He’s about to turn the light own by the side of the bed you aren’t occupying when he hears the hush of the sheets. Looking up, he sees you reaching out to him blindly.

“Come to bed, Joel.”

And damn, if he can’t argue with the soft timbre of your sleep voice and the pout of your lips as you lay in the big bed all alone. He looks over to where his shirt rests on the desk and walks over to shrug it back on before he slides underneath the covers beside you. The small huff of your breath as you doze back off and the gentle smile on your pretty lips eases him into a peaceful sleep.

You wake up to the sound of loud snoring, startling you where you’re curled up in the covers pulled up to your chin. Your eyes snap open as you take in a deep breath, the waking world shocking you as you spy tousled hair on the pillow beside you. Steaked with dark and light greys, but he’s the source of the sound that woke you.

Despite that, you bite down on your bottom lip as you take in the way he kept to his side of the large bed and slide out to go to the bathroom. The shower is amazing, the hot water rinsing away the last of the sleep that clings to you, a combination of the way you worked yourself up and the medication. You’re reaching to wash the conditioner from your hair when a soft knock sounds on the closed door.

“Hey, uh, I don’t mean to intrude, but nature calls.” Joel’s voice calls over the rush of water and you freeze.

“Oh, um, okay. The shower is clear, but it’s fogged up enough-“

“Ain’t gonna look, I promise.” And then the door is opening and Joel’s blurry figure can be seen through the mist. But you do. His hand is secure over his crotch and you realize he’s trying to cover the way his morning wood is tucked into the waistband of his boxer briefs. You quickly look away, arousal zinging through you as you do your best to ignore the sounds of him relieving himself.

He’s careful with flushing and washing his hands, not wanting to affect the temperature of your shower but it doesn’t even register as you do your best to avoid the weight his quick glance puts on your skin before he’s gone- just as quick as he appeared.

The rest of the morning is spent getting breakfast down in the restaurant, the conversation flowing easily as you both go over switching his flight for Philly to leave from LA instead of Austin. Money is sent over to Ellie and as you load up into the rental to hit up some shops for supplies you need to live out of the hotel room, Joel reaches for your hands and holds them gently.

“Hey,” He catches your eyes, the nerves he feels swelling up mirrored in your eyes.

“Joel, it’s okay, really. You- you didn’t know.” You try to pull your hands back and he lets you, curling them back to himself as he watches you switch your weight from one foot to the other.

“No, I didn’t. But I should’ve have come at you like that, it was…it was mighty unprofessional of me to do that. I was in the wrong and you didn’t deserve to catch the weight of how I responded to thinking you were married.” His words are genuine, carrying the guilt he feels over the way things unraveled and you exhale heavily.

“It…it wasn’t good, to hear those words come from you. Those accusations, but I understand how it might have looked, really. I just- Joel, I only ever wanted to help you, please trust me. My- the reason I moved my entire life is huge, and I was going to share it with you when I could find the courage.”

“You don’t have to, even now. I swear to you, your business and past is your own. I just want you to be okay, to be safe. That’s the most important thing.” You step up to him to carefully wrap your arms around his middle and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek despite the flutter in your chest and the slight shake to your hands.

“I’m okay, for the most part. But you’re…Joel, you’re amazing. You really didn’t have to alter your own plans to travel with me and to do everything you have since we left yesterday. I appreciate it, I appreciate you.” His own hands come up around your back to return the embrace, the causal touch lighting you up just as much as seeing him through the fogged up glass paneling of the shower this morning. He’s just so…handsome that it’s a little hard to reconcile that he’s here with you, that he’s feeling more like a friend and less like the man who you initially hired to help you out. The lines blurring the more time you spend with him, the attraction blooming and gaining a heated weight that’s harder and harder to shake from your body.

“I appreciate you too, sweetheart. It’s…it’s okay that I’ve been callin’ you that, right?” He suddenly looks bashful as you step back. And hope swells, that he might possibly feel the same effects as you do being in each other’s space. He’s asking more if everything is okay, you realize, not just the nickname he’s given you and you pause. He’s done so much the last few days, literally coming to your rescue as you fell apart in the very public bathroom of an airport terminal. He’s done more than enough to show how sorry he is and you don’t feel like his words were anything but an immediate reaction to something stemming from his own past. But you don’t push on that, just like he’s not pushing you now.

“Yes, of course.” You assure him, smiling softly as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, let’s go get you some clothes for the next two days, yeah?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” The smile he gives you in return is disarming and you feel your stomach swoop.

“Okay, so I got the shuttle times for you, since you insisted. It’ll be here at-“ Your words trail off as you see him sitting on the large bed, his hands are in his lap though you note the way he’s clenching and unclenching his fists atop his thighs. He looks a little startled at your sudden entrance, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“Wanted to get you something, spent my own money on it. I hope you like it.” The scent of the bouquet on the desk that he approaches now fills the room in a pleasant way, mingling with the cologne he favors and your own perfume. A wonderful mixture of you both in the space you’ll be occupying for the next few weeks. Sadness flairs up when you realize it will fade as soon as he’s gone. “Tried to keep it a secret until I could surprise you with it.”

“What other secrets are you hiding, hmm, Mr. Miller?” Your voice is raspy, the display of the petals over the bed where a new cardigan in a fancy box sits partially open for you to see the soft muted green of the fabric. A gift, to make up for the things you’ve already decided to move past.

“Jus’ Joel, how many times do I gotta-“

“But I respect you, Mr. Miller. Don't you want me to show how highly I regard you?” The air in the room shifts as does the pitch of your voice.

“Just a workin' man, always have been, ain't nothin' special.” He’s not looking at you, pink tinging his ears and the base of his neck as he looks down at the jeans he’s originally rushed out of the house in.  

“Joel,” The sound of his name releases on a breathy sigh as you begin to saunter up to where he's leaning his backside on the desk, errant petals surround him, covers him in places he hadn't patted them away from. The rugged, worn denim hugging his frame, his plain, paint spotted t-shirt displaying the muscles he's built over the years of his life. He didn’t want to fly in the things purchased earlier that day, opting to keep them in the new bag he’s got to take with him on his trip. He's a tasty looking man, and no one else is around. You can't help the pulse of desire that lances underneath your skin, lighting you up in a way you hadn't felt in ages. the piercing gaze he pins you with even as you see the bob of a harsh swallow in his throat, the pursing of his lips as he tries to keep his calm the closer you get to him.

The air is thick, heady, tension crackling and making every other sound soft as you finally step into his space. Right in front of him, you have to look up slightly because of his height, his curls so soft underneath your exploring fingers as you reach out and pet them away from his face, the longer ones having fallen to frame his gorgeous face. You can see the moment his eyes dilate, darken as your tongue peeks out to lick over your bottom lip, the way your teeth sink into the plush give of it as you tangle fingers into his curls and the scratch of your nails on his scalp. A groan sounds deep in his chest, his own lips parting as it sits in the air between you. the sound spurring you on as you rest your other hand delicately on his chest, feeling the hardness of muscle there hidden beneath the thin fabric.

“I shouldn’t want to, I really shouldn’t with how things are and who your parents are.”

“Shouldn’t want to what?” Your heart thunders in your chest, his eyes trained on you with such intensity.

Hope swells, filling your chest where you can’t seem to get enough of the heavy air into your lungs.

“Shouldn’t wanna do this.” And then his hands are cradling the back of your head and the curve of your jaw as he leans down to press his lips firmly to yours.

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[haruchi-slit]

COLLARD GREENS!

TOJI MOTHER FUCKING FUSHIGURO

synopsis: sugar momma at a young age i see. being a sugar momma to toji fushiguro spoling him rotten, in exchange to be his personal cum dumpster.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

warnings: car sex, creampie, raw, choking, overstimulation and etc minors dni!

"Do you think this lingerie would fit me?" you'd ask Toji pointing at a Victoria's Secret dark red lingerie "everything looks good on you, but i think you'd look gorgeous in that" he'd respond "mmhm okay, so one of these and those lingeries in those mannequin" you ordered the staff in sight handing your black card. after that you took him to diner and bought him what he wanted then got inside the car, you sat on the passenger seat beside the driver seat. "did you had fun?" you asked him while he puts his and your paperbags in the trunk "yes i had fun" he spoke "really?" you asked him once again "yeah" he says, "now that were alone, can i give my momma her reward?" he adds while getting inside the car, you were taken aback when he got between your legs, "T-toji what-eep!" your words were cut off when he lowered the seat, making you lay inside your own car.

"W-wait Toji the car's window is poorly tinted!" you'd retort, but that does not stop Toji "Even better.." he says, rolling your dress up to your chest exposing your bra and laced panties, he looks up at you, "fuck you're pussy looks cute with this panties, it's like she's waiting for me to rip it all off.." he says playing with the little ribbon sewn on top of your panties, your legs were tense and he noticed it "C'mon momma relax for me?" as the tension rose your getting impatient, he drags his finger along your thighs massaging it with the pads of his fingers your legs twitched with every movement he made on your inner thighs, he's teasing you. on purpose, "goodness toji- stop teasing.." you'd moan "it's not teasing momma. it's foreplay" he'd reason, continuing on his antics, he drags his thumb on your clothed clit, harshly pressing it. forming a little wet stain on your panties, you'd squirm forcing your thighs to close, "stay still" Toji would command forcing your legs to pry open, rubbing small tight circles on your clothed clit, you'd squirm, arch and moan quietly, holding on Toji's firm arms, bucking your hips toward his hand, moving your hips unconsciously "you look so cute..greedily bucking your hips on my hand, poor baby"

he continues to rub circles on your clothed cunt, and finally he decides to slide your panties aside, he was adorned by your glistening cunt, waiting for him, he lays his hand on your thighs and the other one to your pussy, he gathers your slick to his hand and used it to lube your cunt so his finger can slide in with no trouble, he slowly inserts his middle and index in, scissoring his way to your g-spot "fuck, fuck Toji-" you'd moan he tossed your right leg to his shoulder, so he can use his other hand to stimulate your clit, goodness it felt like heaven. Toji's fingers were soaked with your juices and, dripping to the leather seat, let's hope that it wouldn't ruin the interior of the car! he's so focused on giving his cute sugar mommy her reward for treating him sooo well. your car being poorly tinted slipped out off your mind with the pleasure he's inflicting. his hands were a mess "yeah like that! fuck fuck fuckkk-nn" and with the last few thrust you came, and Toji? he's not contented. he wants you to squirt, squirt on his handsome face, "Tojii-ahh!!" your body couldn't handle the pleasure, it was overflowing.

"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, squirt for me baby" he'd chant intensifying the speed of his fingers, your back arched once again and released on his face...your whole body twitched repeatedly, you watched your juices drip down on toji's face "you're so cute" he compliments.

he drags you on the back seat. he sat on the seat as he took his pants off, revealing his hard cock. he grabbed your arm so you can seat on his member, he held your arms and neck to support your body, you were a mess, a fucking hot mess. he grinds his cock in your pussy, hitting every spot, kissing your cervix each and every time he thrust. you're sure your moans were heard outside but you couldn't care less as long as Toji's fucking you like there's no tomorrow, it'd be a win-win. his hand gripped your neck pushing you close to his face so he can whispers dirty little nothings in your ear.

"such a slut aren't you? such a slut for me?" he'd whisper, as your cunt gripped with like crazy. "Mmfh!- fuck you're so good Toji- I'm giving you a sports car next if you make me cum faster!" you moaned, digging your newly done nails to his arms that's on your neck "fuck momma your so- fucking tight..look at your cunt milking me like crazy.." he groans in your ear. He hugged both of your shoulders with one hand as the other reached for your swollen clit, he started bouncing you up and down and thrusting his cock back and forth, on top of that he takes advantage of his slightly curved dick, which makes it easier to reach your g-spot. you swore you almost saw the light you can feel the car shake on how intense he was thrusting but again, you couldn't care less, "fuckk I'm so close.." he groans as he feels your cunt pulsed around his cock "yea fuck- fuck me like that yes oh shit!" and on his last thrust, it tipped you over the edge...

"Fuccckk" you moaned with your eyes rolled on the depths of your skull, but still toji's still thrusting his cock and that drove you crazy,

"s' too much toji nn~!" you whispered, feeling his cock throb in your pussy, "take it like a fucking slut." he responds with a firm voice as he thrusted ruthlessly in your cunt, you felt your abdomen burning, brewing another climax, you moaned as Toji pulled another climax from you, your body pulsated so as your sopped cunt, and finally you were filled with Toji's thick ropes of cum. he was out of breath and so were you, he kept his arm to your shoulder as he leaned on your collarbone, "Supra.." he whispers, "hmm?" you asked breathlessly, "A Toyota Supra would be nice." he chuckles.

a/n: not proof read hihi soo what's stopping you from sending me requests? c'mon I'd be happy to make your dreams come true!

[rafecameronssl4t]

How about Pope/JJ having a crush on Topper’s younger sister which is also Rafe’s girl and him making sure he knows his place and the fact that she’s his girl. Maybe she’s the island sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone, and sometimes she hangs out with the pogues (despite her brother and boyfriend hating that) and Rafe noticed how the boy looks at her and decides to put on a little show to prove she’s his girl 🫣🥹

Get in losers, we’re going shopping || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: This was so fun to write thank u for the request 🫶

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, possesive/jealous!rafe, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,837

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board

As you drive along, a smile creeps across your face when you notice JJ and Pope walking on the side of the road. You slow your car, matching their pace, which causes them to exchange puzzled glances before coming to a halt.

Rolling down your window, you lift your sunglasses, locking eyes with the two boys. Their confusion quickly shifts to recognition, and a mix of surprise and curiosity spreads across their faces.

“Hey boys,” you greet them with a smile. “Oh—hey, y/n,” Pope stammers, making you giggle. “This your new car?” JJ asks, patting the sleek Porsche. You hum in response, “want a ride?” you offer sweetly.

The boys exchange a quick glance before sprinting to the passenger side, shoving each other. In the end, Pope manages to snag the seat, and you laugh at their antics.

“I’ll sugar momma you guys today,” you wink at them, moving the stick into gear. They grin widely, and you drive off, the engine purring smoothly. “So, where are we—” Pope starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Rafe’s name flashes on the display, and the boys visibly tense up, their smiles fading as discomfort sets in.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and caution. “Hi baby, whatcha doin’? Thought I might come over to yours in a few minutes, gotta see Top for something too” Rafe’s voice fills the car, a smooth and confident drawl.

“I’m out right now, and I won’t be home for a bit,” you reply, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. The boys sit in tense silence, trying to act nonchalant but clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. The cheerful energy from earlier is all but gone, replaced by a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

It’s silent on the other end before Rafe speaks up again. “Right, where—where are you right now? You with anyone?” he stutters, his tone shifting to one of suspicion. Pope’s eyes widen, and he freaks out. “I don’t think we should be here right now,” he mutters under his breath. Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dude!” JJ whisper-yells, trying to keep his voice low. You throw JJ a look that clearly says he isn’t helping.

Hearing the voices, Rafe stands up from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. “Who was that?” he questions sharply. You glance at the boys, feeling the weight of the situation.“Uh, I’m just with Pope and JJ,” you quietly admit, bracing yourself for Rafe’s reaction.

There’s a brief, tense silence on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear Rafe’s jaw clench. You know how your boyfriend feels about you hanging out with them, and the tension in the car thickens as you wait for his response.

“Are you serious right now? How many times have I told you I don’t want you hangin’ around with them?” He angrily says. You roll your eyes, already feeling the annoyance building. “Rafe, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay?” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No. We’re having this conversation right now. Does Topper even know you’re hanging out with those Pogues?” Rafe snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argument. You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Pope and JJ, who look increasingly uncomfortable.

“Rafe, not right now. I’m hanging up, okay? Hanging up right now—” you begin, but Rafe interjects, “Don’t you dare—”Before he can finish his sentence, you press end call. The car falls into an uneasy silence as Pope and JJ sit there quietly, processing what just happened.

“Uhm, so that just happened,” Pope says, staring out at the road in front of him as you chuckle. “I’m so sorry you guys had to hear that,” You apologetically say, biting your bottom lip anxiously, “Nah, don’t even worry about it,” JJ reassures you as you smile at him through the rearview mirror. “Do you guys wanna get some gelato? I’m craving some right now,” You offer as you turn into the main road of Kildare.

~

Opening the door to your house, you pause for a moment as your eyes fall on Topper and Rafe lounging on the sofa. Topper is scrolling through his phone, barely glancing up at your entrance, while Rafe reclines with a smug look on his face.

“Where have you been?” Topper asks, his gaze still fixed on his phone. You hesitate, glancing at Rafe, whose smirk only deepens. “Uh, did Rafe not tell you?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion since you for sure thought that he would tell your brother who shared the same disdain towards JJ and Pope.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. “Tell him what?” he says innocently, leaning back further into the cushions. “Oh, nothing. I was just hanging out with my friends,” You say as you slip off your sandals, Topper giving you and Rafe a suspicious look.

“Yeah, okay. How’s your new car, by the way? Have you scratched it yet? Cause if you did, you know Mom and Dad will throw a fit,” Topper says casually, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of his passive-aggressiveness. Without responding, you turn to leave the room.

Rafe gets up from the sofa and follows behind you, his expression unreadable. “How does my little sister end up with a Porsche for her first car anyway? It’s fuckin’ unfair,” Topper’s voice jeered from the adjacent room, his tone laced with mockery. “Shut up, Topper!” you retorted, frustration seeping into your voice as Rafe let out a soft, amused snort.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” you ask Rafe who shuts your door behind him as you set your shopping bags down on the ground. “Can I not see my girlfriend?” he says with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he lounges comfortably on your bed.

You pause, studying his expression for any hint of underlying motive. “I just thought you wouldn’t wait for me after I told you who I was hanging out with,” you say cautiously, carefully avoiding mentioning JJ or Pope by name.

Rafe’s response is nonchalant, almost dismissive. He simply shrugs, as if your concerns are of little importance to him. “Don’t care,” he replies coolly, his tone betraying no trace of emotion. You lean against your window, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Really?” you say, not quite believing him.

He hums, his expression unchanged. “Yeah, really.” You slowly nod, still feeling a bit skeptical. “You coming to the party tonight, right?” Rafe speaks up, breaking the tension as you throw your new clothes into your hamper. “I didn’t even know there was a party tonight, but sure,” you shrug, before collapsing on top of Rafe, who exaggerates a loud groan in response, playfully protesting your weight.

~

Getting out of the car, you could already feel the curious stares people were giving your way as Topper and Rafe walked up behind you. The beach was buzzing with activity, and you took in the scene, noting the mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Scanning the crowd, you quickly spot JJ and Pope hanging out with a few others near the bonfire. They notice you and wave enthusiastically. A smile spreads across your face as you lift your hand, ready to wave back, but before you can, Rafe grabs your hand firmly.

“C’mon, let’s get some drinks,” he mutters against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. His tone is casual, but the grip on your hand leaves little room for argument. You glance back at JJ and Pope, who are now watching the interaction closely, their expressions shifting to concern.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the makeshift bar set up on the sand. Topper falls into step beside you, his presence adding to the tension. “Here,” Rafe passes you a drink as you gratefully take it.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, staring at Rafe’s side profile. He turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls you closer. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mutters, his tone trying to sound reassuring but tinged with irritation.

Following his earlier line of sight, you glance over and spot JJ and Pope. They’re laughing with a group of friends, seemingly unaware of Rafe’s intense gaze moments ago. Your stomach tightens as you realize he’s been watching them.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature. You look back at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is a mask of casual indifference. The contrast between his actions and his words leaves you feeling uneasy,

“Let’s go,” Rafe suddenly stands up, grabbing your hand abruptly, “What?” As soon as Rafe is standing up with you following along, you hear the whistles and low muttering of people. “Everyone shut the hell up!” Topper groans, watching his little sister and bestfriend walk off.

“Rafe, where are we going?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd, feeling the weight of their stares and the palpable tension in the air. “Shh, it’s fine, we’re just going back to your car,” Rafe says, pulling you closer. He leans in to kiss you, and you feel his smirk against your lips. His hands begin to wander, moving further down your back, his touch both familiar and possessive.

“Rafe,” you pull back slightly, your voice tinged with concern. “It’s fine, yeah? Please?” He looks at you with a familiar intensity, his eyes pleading yet commanding. It’s a look you know all too well, one that mixes affection with an undercurrent of control.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you unlock the car and gently push him before settling down on his lap. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close with an almost possessive firmness. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he presses you against him, as if asserting his claim over you.

“You’re mine, y’know that, right?” he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and slightly ragged. “Mhm, I know that,” you mumble, your hands running through his hair. His fingers dig into your waist, drawing you even closer. His scent, a mix of cologne and the salty sea air, envelops you, creating an intoxicating mix of comfort and confinement.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck as he continues to murmur possessive reassurances.

~

“Y/n?” You lift your head just as you finish zipping up your shorts. “Hey—” The greeting dies on your lips when you find yourself face to face with JJ. “What are you doing here?” you ask, awkwardly chuckling and smoothing down your hair. The sound of Rafe exiting the car behind you adds to the tension.

JJ’s eyes trace your appearance before flicking behind you to Rafe. “We were just about to, uh, leave,” he says, scratching his head. You nod awkwardly. “Hey, Y/n,” Pope greets as he joins the scene, sensing the uncomfortable vibe. You manage a smile at him. “Hi—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe steps up beside you, still buttoning his shirt. JJ and Pope stand there awkwardly, waiting, while Rafe ignores their presence.

“Did you guys have fun?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Rafe finally looks up, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at the boys. “Yeah, yeah, it was fun, I guess,” Pope replies hesitantly. JJ’s pained smile shifts between you and Rafe. “You guys sure did, huh?”

Rafe snorts at JJ’s comment, prompting you to slap his chest lightly. There was awkward silence before you speak up, “Did you guys want a lift back?” you offer.

Before they can respond, Rafe interjects, “Baby, you’ve had a few drinks already. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”JJ rolls his eyes at Rafe. “It’s fine, we’ll find our own way home,” Pope says, his smile tinged with sadness. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Rafe says dismissively, pulling you back towards the group. “Come on, babe.” You glance back at JJ and Pope one last time, mouthing a silent apology as they briefly wave goodbye. The expressions on their faces stay with you—a mix of disappointment and hurt that you can’t shake off.

[buttercandy16]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Extra

PAIRING(s): SugarMommy!Agatha, Rio, Lilia, Jennifer, and Alice x SugarBaby!Reader

SUMMARY: Str*pper Reader meets 5 interesting older women who wants to own her.

WARNING(s): I'm not sure, lol.

A/N: I saw some beautiful soul who requested for someone to write this fic idea. I thought to give it a try even though I suck at writing, lol.

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress 💜

You adjust the strap of your heels, the mirror reflecting the dim glow of neon lights in the dressing room. Another night at The Velvet Petal, another round of dollar bills and fleeting gazes. Stripping isn’t glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps you in school. Plus, your roommate Wanda, the epitome of balance and chaos, has your back when things get rough.

The music thunders outside as your turn approaches. You don your stage persona: confidence wrapped in sequins and heels. But tonight feels different, charged. As you step out onto the stage, the crowd cheers, but it’s not the usual drunken revelry that catches your eye.

It’s them.

Five women, all seated in the corner booth like a scene out of a magazine spread, radiating power and wealth. Agatha, with her streak of silver hair and piercing eyes, exudes control, her tailored suit sharp enough to cut. Rio, effortlessly chic in a leather jacket, lounges like the queen of the world. Alice, the soft-spoken tech mogul, hides behind her glasses, but her smirk says she’s just as confident as the others. Jennifer, a successful actress, looks stunning and polished, her laughter like music itself. And then there’s Lilia, elegant and warm, her gaze lingering on you with unspoken approval.

As you move through your routine, their eyes never leave you. It’s unnerving at first, but then... intoxicating. They’re not here for the cheap thrills—they’re here for you.

After your set, you retreat backstage, heart pounding. Moments later, one of the staff calls you over. “The ladies in the corner booth asked to see you.”

Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon you’re standing in front of them, feeling like a deer in headlights.

“Sit,” Agatha says smoothly, gesturing to the empty seat in their midst. Her voice is commanding, yet inviting, like she’s used to getting exactly what she wants.

You sit, your hands clasped in your lap as their gazes sweep over you. It’s not uncomfortable—not entirely. There’s something magnetic about them, the way they move and speak as though they already own the room.

“You’re quite the performer,” Jennifer says, her red lips curling into a smile. “What’s your name?”

You hesitate, giving them your stage name. They exchange amused glances, clearly unconvinced.

“Your real name,” Rio insists, leaning closer.

You tell them, your voice barely above a whisper, and Lilia beams. “Beautiful. Just like you.”

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Alice asks, her tone gentle but probing.

“Paying for school,” you admit. “It’s... complicated.”

Agatha smirks. “Not for us. What if we made it simple?”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“We mean,” Rio says, sliding a black card across the table, “that we want to take care of you.”

Jennifer’s hand brushes yours as she speaks. “No strings, unless you want them.” Her words carry a playful edge.

“You’ll have everything you need,” Lilia adds, her tone warm. “Money, support, and... companionship.”

Alice adjusts her glasses, her voice soft but confident. “We’re already close. This would just make you... part of the family.”

You blink, trying to process their words. They’re not joking—this is real. Five successful, gorgeous women offering to be your sugar mommas? It’s too good to be true.

“Why me?” you ask, voice trembling.

“Because you’re special,” Agatha says firmly. “And we know how to recognize something—or someone—worth investing in.”

You feel your face heat as they all watch you, their expressions a mix of affection, desire, and genuine interest. For the first time, you’re not sure if you’re the one holding the power—or if they’ve already stolen it from you.

“Think about it,” Rio says, her hand brushing your thigh as she leans back with a smirk.

“Oh, and here,” Lilia adds, slipping a velvet pouch into your hand. “A little something to help you decide.”

When you open it later, back at home, you find a diamond necklace and a check with a number that makes your head spin.

Wanda raises an eyebrow when you tell her. “Five sugar mommas? Girl, you’re either the luckiest person alive or the plot of a Lifetime movie waiting to happen.”

You laugh, but your mind is already racing. What would it mean to let them in? To be theirs?

The thought thrills you—and terrifies you in equal measure.

You barely sleep that night, the velvet pouch and its contents sitting on your bedside table, shimmering under the faint glow of your desk lamp. Wanda’s light snoring from the other side of the apartment is a strange comfort as your mind swirls with questions.

The next evening, as you walk into The Velvet Petal, you’re surprised to find the same booth occupied. The five women are waiting for you, their presence commanding the room just as much as the night before. Agatha’s sharp gaze meets yours immediately, and a subtle smirk tugs at the corner of her lips.

You’re halfway through your set when you notice it—their eyes are on you, but tonight there’s something heavier in their stares. Possessive. Hungry. The way Agatha’s fingers drum on the table, the way Jennifer bites her lower lip as you lean into your routine, sends shivers down your spine.

You finish your set, and as you step offstage, you know you can’t avoid them. A staff member hands you a note:

VIP Room 3. Don’t keep us waiting.

Your breath hitches, but curiosity wins out over caution. You make your way to the back, heart pounding with each step.

When you enter the room, they’re already seated, their positions casual but exuding authority. The space feels smaller with them in it, the air thick with their energy.

“You came,” Rio says, lounging against the sofa like she owns it. “Good girl.”

The words ignite something in you, a mix of defiance and intrigue. “What do you want from me?” you ask, keeping your voice steady, though your pulse betrays you.

Agatha leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We already told you. We want you.”

“And we don’t like waiting,” Jennifer adds, her tone playful yet edged with warning.

Lilia pats the seat next to her. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.”

You hesitate, but her warm smile and soft-spoken nature make it harder to resist. You take the seat, the proximity making you hyperaware of her perfume—floral, expensive, intoxicating.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” Alice says, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve worked hard enough. Let us take care of the rest.”

“We’re not asking you to give up your independence,” Rio says, though her eyes glint with something darker. “But you’ll find life’s a lot easier when you have five women devoted to your happiness.”

Jennifer leans in, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “And we are devoted, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “I don’t even know you.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “You’ll get to know us. Intimately.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck as Lilia’s hand gently rests on your knee. Her touch is light, almost comforting, but it sends a spark through you.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Lilia murmurs, her thumb brushing slow circles against your leg. “But we want you to feel... wanted.”

Rio smirks, her gaze dropping to your lips. “And we’re very good at making people feel wanted.”

Before you can respond, Jennifer stands, stepping behind you. Her hands rest lightly on your shoulders, her fingers tracing slow patterns against your skin. The intimacy of the gesture makes your breath hitch.

“You’re tense,” she whispers, her lips close to your ear. “You work so hard, don’t you? Let us take some of that weight off.”

Agatha’s eyes darken as she watches the scene unfold, a predator assessing its prey. “You deserve to be treated like the treasure you are.”

Lilia’s hand slides a little higher on your thigh, her movements gentle but deliberate. “Let us take care of you, darling.”

Your heart races as you look around the room, their eyes on you, their intentions crystal clear. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and more than a little dangerous.

“I... I need time to think,” you manage, your voice shaky but firm.

Agatha stands, her imposing presence filling the room as she moves closer. She reaches down, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “Of course, take your time,” she says, her voice low and commanding. “But don’t take too long. We’re not the patient type.”

With that, she steps back, and the five of them exchange knowing looks, as if they’ve already decided you’re theirs.

As you leave the room, your legs feel unsteady, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You can still feel the ghost of their touches, the weight of their gazes.

Back in the dressing room, you glance at your reflection, your flushed cheeks and wide eyes betraying the storm inside you. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into—but part of you doesn’t want to escape.

Back in your apartment, Wanda is sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She barely glances up as you close the door, your heels clicking against the floor.

“Rough night?” she asks, her voice casual, though she finally looks at you, frowning slightly. “You look... flustered.”

You don’t answer right away, instead shrugging off your coat and tossing your bag onto the counter. Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it. Your mind replays the evening on an endless loop: Agatha’s commanding tone, Lilia’s warm touch, Jennifer’s whispered promises, the way they all seemed to orbit you like you were the center of their universe.

“Not rough,” you say finally, though your voice betrays you. “Just... weird.”

Wanda narrows her eyes. “Weird how? Did someone cross a line? Do I need to come down there and handle something?”

You shake your head, though the thought of her trying to “handle” Agatha makes you snort despite yourself. “No, nothing like that. It’s just... this group of women. They were... different.”

“Different how?” Wanda asks, now sitting up, her curiosity piqued.

You hesitate, unsure how to explain. “They’re... rich. Like, stupid rich. And they... I don’t know. They want to... help me?”

Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up. “Help you how? Like charity? Or...” Her expression shifts to one of amusement. “...like sugar momma help?”

You stay silent, and that’s all the confirmation she needs. Wanda bursts out laughing, clutching a pillow as she leans back.

“Oh my God,” she says between giggles. “You’ve got five sugar mommas fighting over you? That’s the plot of a rom-com, babe. Or, like, a very specific fanfiction.”

“It’s not funny,” you mumble, though your cheeks burn. “They’re serious, Wanda. They said they want to take care of me.”

Wanda calms down, though her grin remains. “And what did you say?”

“I said I needed time to think.”

She tilts her head, studying you. “And what do you want?”

You sigh, collapsing onto the chair. “I don’t know. It’s... overwhelming. They’re all so... intense.”

“Intense hot?” Wanda asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny it. They are hot, each in their own way. Agatha’s commanding presence, Rio’s rebellious charm, Alice’s quiet intellect, Jennifer’s movie-star allure, and Lilia’s nurturing warmth—they’re all dangerously appealing.

“They’re hot, okay? But that’s not the point,” you admit, rubbing your temples.

“The point,” Wanda says, leaning forward, “is that they’re rich, gorgeous, and want to spoil you. What’s the downside here?”

You don’t answer, because you’re not sure there is one—at least, not yet. But something about the way they looked at you tonight, like they were already claiming you as their own, makes your stomach twist in a mix of anticipation and unease.

The next morning, you find a package waiting outside your door. It’s wrapped in elegant black paper, tied with a silk ribbon. Wanda, curious as ever, peeks over your shoulder as you open it.

Inside, you find a designer handbag that probably costs more than your rent, a card tucked neatly inside. The handwriting is elegant and precise.

“You deserve the best. Let us show you. - A, R, Al, J, L”

Wanda whistles low. “Girl, they’re not playing.”

You run your fingers over the smooth leather, your heart pounding. The gift is beautiful, thoughtful even—but it’s also a reminder of the power they hold. They could change your life, make everything easier. But at what cost?

That evening, you find yourself back at The Velvet Petal, though you’re distracted the entire night. When your shift ends, one of the staff hands you a note.

“Meet us upstairs. Same room. We won’t ask again.”

You hesitate, the weight of their words heavy in your hands. You don’t know why you go, why you climb the stairs and open the door to find them all waiting, just as they were before.

This time, they don’t give you a chance to second-guess.

“We’re done waiting,” Agatha says, standing as you enter. Her presence fills the room, her sharp suit impeccable as ever.

“We know you’re hesitant,” Lilia adds gently, rising to meet you. She takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. “But we also know what you need, even if you don’t yet.”

Jennifer steps behind you, her hands settling on your shoulders again. “You’re too special to let go, sweetheart.”

Rio smirks, lounging on the sofa. “And let’s be honest—you want this as much as we do.”

Alice steps forward, her eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. “Say yes, and we’ll give you the world.”

The air is thick, their words wrapping around you like a velvet cage. Your heart races as their gazes lock onto yours, each one waiting for your answer.

You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “What happens if I say yes?”

Agatha’s smile is slow, deliberate. “Then you’re ours.”

Agatha’s words linger in the air, heavy and inescapable. The way she looks at you feels like she’s already decided your answer. The others exchange glances, their expressions a mix of hunger and satisfaction, as though your hesitation has only added fuel to their fire.

“I...” you start, but the words catch in your throat.

Jennifer’s hands slide down your arms, her touch gentle but firm. “Shh, don’t overthink it,” she murmurs. Her lips are close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Just let us take care of you.”

Your heart races as Lilia steps closer, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve worked so hard, darling,” she says, her voice low and soothing. “You deserve to rest. To feel wanted.”

The way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand moves to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that leaves you breathless.

Before you can respond, Rio rises from the sofa, her movements slow and deliberate. “You’re overthinking,” she says, her smirk sharp as she closes the distance between you. “You want this. I can see it.”

Her fingers trail down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Let yourself enjoy it for once.”

Alice is the last to move, her presence quieter but no less intense. She steps closer, her eyes locked on yours as she speaks. “We’re not asking for anything you don’t want to give,” she says softly, her tone disarming. “But if you say yes, we’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”

Agatha’s voice cuts through the haze, commanding and steady. “Say it,” she urges. Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her touch is firm but not harsh, her thumb brushing over your jaw. “Say yes.”

The weight of their attention is almost too much to bear, your body reacting in ways you can’t control. Your mind is screaming at you to think, to process, but your heart is louder, pounding in your chest as their words sink in.

“I...” you begin, your voice trembling.

Jennifer’s lips brush your ear, her voice a sultry whisper. “Yes, baby. That’s all you have to say.”

And before you know it, the word falls from your lips. “Yes.”

The shift in the room is immediate. Agatha’s smile is predatory, Rio’s grin smug. Lilia’s eyes light up with warmth, and Jennifer presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, her touch lingering. Alice nods, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

“Good girl,” Agatha murmurs, her hand still cradling your face. “You’ve made the right choice.”

Rio steps behind you, her hands brushing your waist as she leans in close. “Now, let us show you how much we appreciate you.”

Jennifer’s fingers trace slow patterns against your arms as Lilia pulls you into a gentle embrace. Her perfume surrounds you, a soft, floral scent that makes your head spin.

“You’re ours now,” Lilia whispers, her voice dripping with affection. “And we take care of what’s ours.”

The way she says it sends heat rushing through you, their touches and words weaving a web around you that you can’t escape—and, deep down, you realize you don’t want to.

The air in the room feels heavy, thick with anticipation. You’re caught in the pull of their presence—five women who’ve effortlessly taken control of the space and, now, you. Each of them steps closer, their combined energy overwhelming, intoxicating.

Agatha’s hand lingers at your chin, her sharp nails lightly grazing your skin as she tilts your face toward her. Her piercing eyes search yours, and a faint, satisfied smirk spreads across her lips. “You’re trembling,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth. “Are you nervous? Or just excited?”

Before you can respond, Lilia presses against your side, her arm wrapping around your waist. The warmth of her body seeps into yours, and her fingers begin to trace soft circles along your hip. Her touch is gentle but firm, grounding yet possessive.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Lilia whispers, her lips close to your ear. “We’ll take care of you. Let us show you just how much you mean to us.”

Jennifer’s laugh is soft and teasing as she moves to your other side. Her hands slide over your shoulders, her touch featherlight but deliberate. “You’re ours now, sweetheart. There’s no need to hold back.”

Rio leans against the wall, her dark eyes fixed on you with a smoldering intensity. She doesn’t move, but the heat of her gaze is enough to make your knees weak. “We’ve been waiting for this,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “And now that we have you, we’re not letting you go.”

Alice is quieter, but her presence is no less commanding. She steps forward, her hands sliding into her pockets as she watches the others with a small, knowing smile. “Don’t let them overwhelm you too much,” she says softly, though the glint in her eyes betrays her own intent.

You feel surrounded, enveloped by their presence and their touch. The intensity of it all sends your pulse racing, your breaths coming shallow and uneven.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lilia murmurs, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her gaze is warm and affectionate, but there’s a glimmer of something deeper—something darker—just beneath the surface.

Agatha’s thumb grazes over your lower lip, her smirk widening at the way your breath hitches. “We’ll make sure you never feel neglected again,” she says, her tone promising and possessive.

Jennifer leans in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “All you have to do is let us take the lead, baby. We’ll handle the rest.”

You’re caught in their web, their touches and words binding you tighter with every passing second. You don’t know where this will lead, but you’re certain of one thing: they won’t stop until you’re completely theirs.

_-_-_

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[f10werfae]

Daddy’s babies

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader

summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.

Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.

“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.

“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”

“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.

“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.

“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”

“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”

Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”

Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.

“You sure?”

“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”

Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”

“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”

“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”

Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.

“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.

“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”

“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.

“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”

“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.

“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”

“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.

“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”

“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”

“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.

“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.

With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.

“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.

“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.

“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.

“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”

“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.

Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.

“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”

“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”

“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.

“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”

Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.

“This ok baby?”

“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”

“B-both?”

That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”

Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”

His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.

“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)

“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.

This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.

“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“

“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.

“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”

With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.

“D-don’t touch ‘em”

“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.

“S-sleepy Henry”

“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.

———

PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior

See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶

[soulaires]

Sweet Dreams | A.W

pairings: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!Reader

synopsis: Aaron loves his daughter, he really do. Hell, he would burn down the world for her but sometimes,, all he wanted was to spend one night alone with you—his beloved pretty wife.

warnings: interrupted sexy times, domestic life, GIRL DAD AARON WARNER LESSGOOO, comfort, nightmares, Aaron Warner is so done, reader and dior are little shits, fluff, married life, light smut obvi, it was interrupted though (literally the whole plot) not proofread …

« words: 1,607┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking

Aaron Warner is a good father.

He really is, he educated himself on the risks, pros and cons, he even bought himself a book on how to take care of his pregnant wife, a beginners guide on being a father and what not.

He would like to pride himself that he knows about everything, knows how to handle when the baby cries, when the baby throws a tantrum, or when his daughter wants something and such.

but…

If there was one fact no one mentioned to Warner about being a father, it was just how quickly his sex life would evaporate.

He loves dior, he really does. She is his most beloved daughter, baby girl, light of his life, his princess, his Achilles heel (plus you, of course.) and unfortunately the bane of his existence.

he’s kidding.

but of course there are some times that he just wants an alone time with you, his beautiful wife without being interrupted by a certain little princess.

All because you drove him to madness, igniting an insatiable desire within him, awakening the hidden beast that eagerly salivated and panted in response to your lustful glances, strategically unleashed whenever the mood struck.

He would be a fool to lie and pretend you didn’t stir something inside of him, some wretched version of himself rattled the bars of its cage, akin to a hurricane relentlessly tearing through barriers to reach you whenever you allowed your sugar-sweet voice to caress his sensitive ears.

He was a slave for the love you easily gave him as if it’s the easiest thing you can ever do. How can you easily love someone like him? a hopeless man yearning for thirst and begging for a single drink, a solitary taste, as if dying of thirst and pleading at your feet.

You were his goddess, and the privilege of sharing your bed, your throne, surpassed all his wildest dreams. Simply being by your side was more than he believed he deserved, and he vividly recalled the day he first encountered you—the day you convinced him that he was truly worth something.

—

The room is awash with the silvery glow of the moon, you notice, setting a tranquil atmosphere that amusingly contradicts the feverish warmth of Aaron's caresses. His kisses trace a journey from the curve of your neck to the hollow of your navel. However, any sense of composure shatters when your husband playfully bites your right nipple, sending all rational thoughts scattering out the window.

“Ah, Aaron,” you groan after a sharp nip against your collarbone. “fuck! baby…I—we can’t—!”

“Shh, we can, love. Dior is asleep” he whispers against your ear, “just let me take care of my wife, yeah?” He said as he caressed your hair, admiring your beauty under him. “It’s just us…” he said as he chuckled and that made you shiver.

“Pretty, momma…look at you, my pretty wife.” Aaron shifts to readjust himself as he hurriedly vanishes the remaining clothes and attacks your lips and kisses you passionately and hungrily as if he has been starved for years.

“Gods—look at you, ma, pretty as life and poison, want me to put another baby on you, hm?” he said as he dragged his teeth against your chest to taste your beating heart and he then placed soft and slow kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb.

You draw him closer, intending for a light and sweet kiss to allow your husband to continue his gentle touches. Yet, it’s not your fault that you find yourself getting lost in the sheer perfection that is Warner.

He, in turn, envelops both of you with his hand, stirring a gentle desire for more within you and oh, dear god, you need more.

Just as you are about to open your mouth to voice out your desires for a little more, a soft, almost inaudible knock interrupts the intimate moment.

The unmistakable soft voice of your three-year-old daughter pierces through the room, calling out, “momma..? dada..?” Panic flashes between you and Aaron, and hastily, you both scramble to locate your discarded clothes.

“mommy! daddy!” yelled dior through the door as she started knocking continuously that makes you and your husband panic more. “‘s da door broken..?!”

“just a second, princess,” Aaron softly calls out, panicking when his hard-on doesn’t seem to go away. Hell.

He glances up at his wife and stares at you, baffled when he realizes that you had already put on your night gown and on your way to open the door.

“Wha—how?” he asks in disbelief. “You were literally just—”

“Don’t underestimate me.” You joked.

Aaron dismissively shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and takes a seat on the bed, discreetly covering his arousal with the white comforter just as Dior bursts into the room and enthusiastically throws herself into your arms.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, gently rubbing comforting circles on her back. “Nightmare, love?”

"Uh-huh," Dior nods against your neck, her tears leaving your nightgown slightly damp.

you picked her up and went to the bed as dior hugged her dad, sniffing as she softly cried, “oh, darling. What happened, princess? hm?” Asked Warner as he hugged his crying daughter to his arms.

“I—hiccup t-thought monsters got you,” said dior, her green eyes filled with tears. you then pulled her into a hug.

“aw, baby, we are fine,” you said, patting her back. you brush the blonde curls out of your daughter’s eyes. “yeah, sweetheart, no monsters here.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking suspiciously around their room.

“Promise,” you replied, assuringly as you stood up to rock her to calm her down.

“We promised, sweet princess. And if there is, daddy will scare the ugly monsters away,” your husband assured her from the bed as dior starting to calm down,

“really?” she said with a shaky voice and a glassy doe eyes and you almost cried seeing her state.

Poor baby.

“I promise, Di, daddy will protect you and momma.” Aaron said sincerely as you rocked her back and forth in your arms, running your fingers through her wild curls.

Dior sniffles start to quiet down. “Mhm…,” she says. “Can I stay here?” She looks at you with puppy eyes that is impossible for you to say no so you nodded.

“Of course, princess ,” Aaron responds, quietly mourning the loss of one night with his wife, alone.

As you continue rocking Dior in your arms, attempting to lull her into a peaceful slumber, your efforts are momentarily interrupted by her sweet voice, breaking the silence of the room.

“Mommy?” Dior queries after a few minutes, perched on your lap with a wide-eyed expression. “What's wrong with daddy?”

Your gaze shifts toward Aaron, who remains sprawled face-down on the bed, emitting occasional groans and muffled whines in his attempt to compose himself for the sake of your toddler. Suppressing a grin, you find amusement in his comical efforts.

“Well, Di,” you murmur, showering light kisses on your daughter’s chubby cheeks to conceal your amusement. “I think your daddy is having a nightmare, much like the one you just experienced.”

Dior gasps in innocent concern. ”Oh no! Mommy, give daddy kisses to scare the monsters away!”

Smiling at her pure-hearted suggestion, you gently explain, “I don’t think that will help, sweet thing.” Observing Dior's face scrunch up in confusion, you swiftly add, ”You see, adults have different nightmares than kids do.”

“But kisses always help!” Dior insists with unwavering conviction.

”Well, if you insist,” you reply, giving in to her innocent plea, and share a quiet laugh at the sheer delight evident on Dior's face.

As you comply with dior’s request, you peppered kisses onto your husband’s face, eliciting a chorus of giggles from both him and Dior.

After showering Aaron with a cascade of kisses, he playfully remarks, "Mhm, daddy is okay now, but he'll be even more okay if you give daddy a kiss too."

Dior, with her eyes sparkling, responds enthusiastically, "Okay, Daddy!" She complies, peppering him with a flurry of sweet kisses as you heard Aaron giggles so you did, and in the midst of the joyous exchange, she graciously plants kisses on your face, too.

“Thank you, baby. Ready for sleep?” You asked and the response is a barely there nod.

“Love you and g’night, little missy.” You whisper, your voice sounds like a lullaby to the quiet room.

Aaron chimes in, taking on the role of the protector, “daddy will be right here, chasing away any monsters that dare to bother you, emerald.”

Dior, even in her drowsy state, manages to mumble a sleepy “luvu, daffy, momfy” before succumbing to dreams. The room, now quiet except for the soft breathing of your little one.

Your husband then looked at you and softly smiled, “I’ll chase all of your monsters away, too, love.” you softly giggled and gave him a peck.

However, as the night deepens, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning your attention, you find your husband, his expression akin to a kicked puppy, a playful pout adorning his features. It’s a silent plea for the solitude that eluded him tonight, a longing for those moments when it’s just the two of you.

You meet his gaze, understanding the unspoken disappointment in his eyes. As a promise of solace, you assure him with a tender look that whispers, ”Next time, it'll be just us.” you promised him.

And you were never the one who breaks promises.

So, was it really a surprise that after you fulfilled your promise you found yourself with two positive pregnancy tests?

No, not really.

📫 :: my first post in 2024 ?!?!!? Anyway this will be a series !!! Next one will be the introduction of the new addition to the family and THE question of “where does baby come from?” From baby warner. Also, if you want to be added to my taglist please do let me know!

[hallietblr]

my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader

request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe��️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰

a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!

warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart

—

the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.

i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.

after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.

cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.

—

SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶

y/n!

goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?

stevie:

con and i are going fishing at the pier today

belly <3:

i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!

y/n!:

that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)

j:

i should be available today i think

connie:

i thought ur coming fishing?

stevie:

yeah!! boys trip!!

belly <3:

wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol

j:

wdym it’s a regular day

connie:

nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere

stevie:

LOL

belly <3:

so true, it’s gross jeremiah

j:

shut upp

urs isn’t any better bells

belly <3:

:(

y/n!:

stop being mean j

—

i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.

i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.

after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.

you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.

my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.

i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”

she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”

my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.

i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.

“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”

“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.

my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.

“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”

“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”

i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”

my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.

“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”

i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.

“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”

i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”

my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”

i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”

“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”

i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”

the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.

i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.

—

j:

heyy pretty

wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣

y/n!:

sure :)

j:

awesome! see you soon!!

also wear something nice ;)

y/n!:

why?

j:

not that you don’t always look nice!!!

my mom wants to take photos or smt lol

y/n!:

oooook

—

my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.

i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.

i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.

i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.

the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.

“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.

“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”

“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”

he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.

my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”

steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.

“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,

“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”

his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”

i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”

he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”

“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”

everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.

“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.

“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”

i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.

every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.

it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.

i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.

after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.

drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.

jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.

“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”

i nod, “yeah, for sure.”

he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.

we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,

“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.

i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.

“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”

he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”

i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.

in love with my best friend <3

my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”

i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”

“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.

i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,

“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.

his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.

i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.

his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.

“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”

he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.

i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.

jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,

“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”

he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,

“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.

i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks

my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.

i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.

“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”

i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.

“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.

he smirks, “oh yeah?”

and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry

“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”

“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.

a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.

he grins, “that was amazing.”

“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,

“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”

—

taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic

[luvscrazy]

A Birthday to Remember: Rekindling Love for Katsumi's Sake ♡

{One shot} Bakugo Katsuki X Female Reader

Summary: You guys share a now four-year-old daughter named Katsumi. You and Katsuki have been divorced for two years, and you usually see each other when it involves your daughter. You guys usually fight often, and that's what also led you guys to divorce. Now, today is your daughter's fourth birthday party. Would this be any different from all the other events?

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Today was Katsumi's fourth birthday. I dressed her in a pretty, sparkly pink princess dress. I tied her spikey blonde hair into two cute pigtails, with two sparkly pink bows keeping them in place. Katsumi had the same appearance as Katsuki, but her attitude was just like mine. I woke up early and set everything up for her. Her birthday theme was Candy-land. God, that girl loves sugar. 

I rented a private park for her birthday party. So she could play with her friends and enjoy herself. She was too young for an arcade, but next year i’ll take her. I had set up all the balloons. They were shaped into candies, and the letter balloons spelled her name. I had set three long tables together and put a pink, blue, and purple cloth on all three tables on top to add a covering. Soon the tables were filled with sweets and delicious food. I had made goodie bags the night before stuffing them with candy, slime,bracelets, and anything a little kid would love I set all the goodie bags on display for her friends to come to enjoy. 

Soon all the friends Katsumi had invited and their parents had came to. They had placed gifts in the gift piles, and Katsumi ran with the other kids to play around. Katsuki still hasn’t showed up and it’s been 20 minutes since the party started. I was talking to Kirishima, Mina, and Denki, as we sat down at the food table watching our kids from afar. 

“Is Bakugo coming?”, Kirishima asked. 

I perked up at his words,’ I hope so. Katsumi will be very upset if he doesn’t, but yet again he’s always late to important days like this”, I said in an annoyed tone. 

Mina chimmed in and rubbed my arm, “He’s the number one hero now… so I don’t think he misses or comes late on purpose”. 

“Yeah I get that, but he's a father now. He can’t do this at every event..”, I looked at all of them and my anger brushed off slightly. 

All three of them could feel the tension in the air, and decided to drop the topic of Katsuki for now. As I was just starting to calm down, there was a car that pulled up. And speaking of the devil it’s none other than Katsuki himself. He steps out wearing his finest attire and coming towards us. I looked at them and then at the others and sighed. I walk over to Katsumi, who’s playing with her friends. 

“Katsumi Honey! Daddy is here!”, I yell for katsumi. 

I had the fact that I was angry at him for her and gave her a smile. She looks back at me and gets off the swings and starts running to Katsuki who is now with Kirishima and the other’s. Katsuki hears her little feet running towards him and he smiles. When she reaches him, he bends down and picks her up. 

“Happy birthday homey, sorry i’m late, did you save me some of momma’s yummy cupcakes she made?”, Katsuki smiles at Katsumi. 

Katsumi nods and cuddles into his arms, “Of course Daddy!”. 

I stare at them as I make my way back over. Katsuki is lucky she's young, or else she would retaliate against him. Katsuki and Katsumi make their way over to the table, and they both start devouring cupcakes. They’re both messy eaters, and I can't help but giggle. Kirishima, Mina, and Denki start looking at me and smirking. 

Katsuki lets Katsumi go play, as he walks over to us. He can tell something is in the air as he looks at me. 

“What's wrong?”, Katsuki asks. 

“Katsuki, you show up late or miss every single important event of her life!. Thats whats wrong”, I give him a glare crossing my arms at him. 

Katsuki’s face relaxes and he lets out a deep breath, “Relax, I’m sorry, i had to take out some villains at the last minute. I can’t just walk away from that. I could loose my title.” 

I balled my hands into fist and my face started to twitch. 

“You care more about some dumb hero title more than your daughter!? Is that it Katsuki huh!?”, I yelled. 

Katsuki’s face changes and he gives me a stern look and crosses his arms.

“No! I love our daughter, you’re always trying to paint me as a bad person. I am an amazing father, but I am also the number one hero. Something you would never understand YN. You are like a leech. I do everything for our daughter and give everything to you for her!, and all you do is nag me!”, Katsuki yells back and gets closer to me. 

Katsumi and everyone start looking. She starts to run over to us. Mine and his body language change when she comes over. The party guests fell silent when Katsumi came over and tugged on her father's pants.

“Daddy, stop yelling at momma…”, Katsumi said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. 

Katsuki. Your heart sank at your daughter's words. Katsuki took a deep breath and calmed down for their daughter. 

“I’m sorry baby, I got upset and shouldn’t have yelled, can you forgive Daddy?” Katsuki gave her a reassuring smile and picked her up while running his hands through her spiky blonde hair.

Katsumi gave him a warm smile back and hugged his neck tightly, “Of course, I can… just stop being mad at momma.” 

He rubbed her back softly, “I won’t be honey. Come on, let’s go have some ice cream.” 

Katsumi’s smile beamed and she nodded her head quickly. Katsuki set her down and she ran over to the table near the ice cream station. 

Katsuki looked over at you and sighed, “Look, lets just pretend none of this happened and get along, for her birthday.” 

I nodded and respected what he said. It was our daughter’s birthday, we shouldn’t ruin it for her. The guests finally started to talk amongst themselves again. Mina was cheering me up, and calm down from the former argument. As the party resumed, they spent the next while helping their daughter open her presents. Katsuki gave her a little kiss on the cheek as she blew out her birthday candles and got the first slice of cake. 

After a while he would get approached by multiple moms who would introduce themselves. A few were bluntly flirting with him, and he would laugh and flirt back. His cocky self loved the praise the women would give him, especially for being the number one hero. 

I glared over to him and the moms surrounding them. Flirting at my daughter’s birthday party, with my ex-husband? I was not gonna have that. I walked over to the group, and they all went silent including Katsuki. The annoyed expression on my face filled up the tension around the mom and they slowly one by one walked away. Katsuki was looking a bit annoyed himself. 

“What is your deal today?”, He pulled her arm and led her away from the party.

“Nothing, I just don’t wanna see flirting or anything like that at OUR daughter’s birthday party”, I crossed my arms. 

“Oh please, you only interfered because you got jealous” " he scoffed.

“I am not jealous”, She looked away from him. 

“You are and you can’t even look me in the face and say it. Y’know one day we’re gonna have to actually talk instead of arguing, and talk about our relationship or we will keep fighting and eventually ruin both our relationship with our daughter. Do you want that?”, His voice was stern and expression was serious. 

“No, I don’t”, I sighed and crossed my arms. 

“Good. Look I hate being late and missing stuff, but I'm doing this for you and our daughter. Hell if I'm going to be honest you're the reason why i'm number one. I still love you, even though our marriage was rocky, I only wanted to better myself after our divorce. And i did it for you. You know that to. You know i still love you, and yet you're to stubborn to cave in and let your guard down and say “Katsuki, im still in love wit you”, because i know you still are..”, He paused, and his gaze was soft. 

“It’s never been about the attraction or the sex, i’ve always, always loved you. So much. So why can’t you finally admit you love me still huh?”, He sounded frustrated but his voice held a hint of sadness. 

“Because.. I don’t want a fucked up marriage again. I don’t wanna fight every day like we used to..”, My voice was vulnerable. 

“Everyone fights. We fight because we’re both stubborn. I know i can be stupid sometimes, and i’ve made mistakes, and i will keep making mistakes because that's what people do. But that doesn’t change what i feel for you. Whenever you make a mistake or get upset, and we fight, that never stopped me from loving you.”, Katsuki cups my face and rubs his thumb across it. 

“You know deep down, that you feel the same way. You want me to hold you, kiss you, and comfort you, and love you. But your to stubborn to admit it. I’m stubborn just as much but i can admit that i love you.”, Katuski looks lovingly into my eyes. 

“I do love you. I thought a divorce was best because we just kept fighting and it was becoming so much and i didn’t want our daughter to go through that…”, I look up at him. 

“I know, i know. We were just stressed and made a dumb mistake. But we both love each other and our daughter. We’re in this together so we have to make this work no matter what. Now stop being stubborn and let’s take things slow and get back together”, Katsuki tucks a loose hair behind my ear. 

“Okay, let’s give it a go. No more hurting each other. Lets communicate, and work this time”, I smile softly at him. 

“Okay. I love you…”, Katsuki says, as he leans in and gives me a sweet passionate slow kiss. 

I can feel his love through the slow kiss. The kiss i’ve been yearning for since he left. The distant feeling felt familiar once again. His touch burned into my memory. I love him, and he loves me. He breaks the kiss, and looks down at me. The softest look he’s given me in a while. 

I break the silence, and look up at him. “I love you to, Katsuki".

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Note: Let me know if i should make a this a series!

[riaki]

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[lady-ashfade]

Things Modern Hotd Characters Do.

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Character: Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra Targaryen. (X reader)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Literally just some random thoughts that came into my head, and it’s a modern au.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: lromantic, short, cute and fluffy.

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

��—Jacaerys Velaryon

You already know my boy is a jock of some sort, it’s a given. So he gives you his jersey to wear and I see him in hockey.

He also is the type of guy to at first watch you when you are around and at first he is shy about it and tries not to get caught. Then it’s just known to everyone that he is admiring you, like a drooling dog.

Gets shy when his friends bring it up.

You think you’re allowed to drive? Nope, his passages princess (no matter the gender)

I also see him proposing as soon as you both graduate, or when you both are still in your early 20s.

✬—Aemond Targaryen

Leather jacket. I don’t make the roles and has a motorcycle- The person the school fears after sending a kid to the hospital in middle school.

Before the relationship he talks to you at some points in the day, and then people literally stay away from you because they are scared of Him. So no bullies coming your way.

Takes you shopping because he likes to see you happy, and not the best at expressing his lives. So gifts and acts of service are his love language.

Keeps a photo of you in his wallet- don’t tell him I told you.

✬— Lucerys Velaryon the man I did this all for.

Watches all the Barbie movies with you while you play with his hair, and put it in weird and cute hairstyles.

One of the boys who is shy but will let you do anything to him. Like letting you putting makeup on him or carry you around.

He is so fucking shy but also a little shit. He’s so two faced. He will be pouting one minute and blushing like crazy when you kiss his cheek. And the next knocking you to the side and racing down the stairs.

Pulls pranks all the time that you didn’t talk to him for weeks but you can’t resist that cute face.

Walks everywhere while holding hands so you both don’t get separated 🥺

✬—Alicent Hightower

She’s the neighborhoods widow. And also on the watch council, so she is big into the community. She has been so sweet to you for years since you moved and always find yourself seeing her.

Goes out into her yard and gardens while watching you, not in a creepy way tho- just making a excuse to talk to you out of the blue.

Brings you sweets a lot and goes on coffee dates before dating.

Is so happy when you show her a real love relationship, and how you put her above everything. So she spoils you the same.

But keeps you away from her “stepdaughter” because she is afraid you’ll leave her.

✬—Rhaenyra Targaryen

Someone say mommy- the type of woman to buy you drink after making you flustered just by staring at you from across the bar. Like that cocky smirk of “i want to make you nervous” sexy smile you know?

Doesn’t let you think she is just a one time and dip. So she starts to send you gifts, to your work, house and almost anywhere. Texts you so much about going in dates.

You know kinda like a sugar momma for sure but loves you.

This girl will punch another woman for flirting with you and drag her by her hair- she’s so possessive.

Introduces you to her kids when you start dating because she wants you all to get along, and if you just immediately sweep them under your wing?

Already planning your wedding.

If you want more characters pls send them in the inbox.

[penvisions]

services requested {chapter two}

Pairing: Older! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: With the flourish of a contract that contains a section titled 'Intimacy Clause' and a quirk of your lips, you turn Joel Miller's life upside down.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, mommy vibes, reader see's joel and knows she wants to provide for him, joel is older and tired, his life beginning to slow as his body aches, power dynamics, sexual undertones, instant connection, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, angst, family drama, strained family dynamics, mention of pregnancy (not reader or joel), verbal threat, argumentative language, joel and tommy y'all good god, think that's it!

Fic Notes: please, if you have any qualms about the setting of this fic, do not reblog or comment with hate. my dms are open for discussion if you feel like you need to say anything. let's be respectful going into a new year, there are ample warnings and you are in charge of the content you consume

A/N: hi, i'm back with chapter two for y'all! ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

You can’t help but feel a bit shy around him, with a contract being looked over by one of your friends who works in the more…lucrative business of strip clubs and the party scene. She’s around the same age, working alongside the owner of one of the classier and legitimate night clubs, where she acts as a legal representative for the girls that work there as well as others who come through the doors looking for a little adult fun.

She had arrived just as Joel was leaving for the day, her eyes widening as she watched him toss a out a bag of garbage into the outside bin on his way out of the door and off the job for the day. He had nodded politely at her, though his lips didn’t lift quite as much at the corners as they did for you. Her squeal the second the front door was loud, and you immediately shushed her and clamped your hands over her mouth while peering through the blinds to see if he heard it. Thankfully he hadn’t turned at the rather alarming sound as he loaded up into his truck and took off down the street.

“That’s the Mr. Miller I keep hearing about?!”

That was days ago, and the renovation is in the last stages. New walls are up, drywall and mudding complete. All that was left was the kitchen downstairs and the tiling in the bathroom. Painting was tomorrow, once the colors were picked out too.

Today you were going to tag along with the older man to the supply store to look over tiles, none of the ones in the catalogue he had left on your desk in the study popped out at you. He’s been working hard, to get everything done on schedule. Your parent’s return is in two weeks and he’s determined to have it all polished and shining by the time you head out to get them from the airport.

Professionality and friendship seem to be a good mix for you. Calling him Mr. Miller when he reminds you to call him Joel, him lingering at the end of each day to make sure he gives you a run down of what got done and what will be on the agenda of tasks for the next one. He playfully calls you ma’am in return, though he uses your name sometimes too.

A running joke of sorts, between the two of you. But also, it’s not really a joke at all. But a way to draw an invisible line- no physical contact has happened since that day your composure cracked and fell into tiny pieces around you alongside your hot tears. But you swear you can feel his eyes trailing after you when you’re working around the house.

You’re both jokingly picking out the most garish colors and saying they would look perfect in the living room, the bathroom, the upstairs bedrooms. His own thick fingers brushing yours as you both huff laughter and reach for new swatches. The attendant behind you is smiling at the scene, younger than you and stuck at such a boring job of mixing colors for people that seem too focused to have fine like you two are. But the bubble of easy going fun is broken by a man donned in a grey sweat pants and a plain tee.

He calls your name, in question. As if he doesn’t quite want to bother you if you don’t hear him. But you do, and so does Joel. With laughter still on your tongue, you turn with a wide smile in the man’s direction.

“Micheal! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you.” You don’t move to shake his hand, something Joel’s stomach flips over noticing. You keep the tight curl of your fingers over the swatch of blinding yellow he had jokingly suggested for the kitchen that you had pried from his own grip. Your long nails, done up in a soft pink this time had scraped against his skin and nearly short circuited his thoughts. But they’re back now as he watches you interact with this random man.

“I just wanted to say hi and thank you again for the session. It was such a dream, honestly.” The man’s words are genuine, his expression one of open awe. It has Joel stiffening behind you, aware that this may be awkward for him.

“I’m so glad, it’s always a fun challenge when someone comes to me with an idea like that. But I’m glad we could execute it perfectly for you.” Behind you, you can feel Joel stiffen. His entire body goes rigid and you sneak a look at him over your shoulder, but he’s seemingly fascinated by the color samples in his hands…

The rest of the trip around the store is strained, Joel won’t look you in the eye and you feel like he’s avoiding brushing up against you. He assures you he can load everything up into the back of the truck so you’re stewing in the passenger seat waiting for him to finish. The ride back isn’t nearly as happy and easy-going as the ride there and you can’t get the words out to ask if everything is okay, your fight or flight triggered and flight is your go to nowadays. It didn’t used to be…

He gets to unloading as you hide yourself away in the office, sketching app open and stylus in your immobile hand as your back twinges painfully. The scar dug into the skin there feeling like it was just carved your mind replays the event on a loop. You can faintly hear the soft squelch of the paint rollers working, an easy day of work all in all.

But he doesn’t come to bid you a good afternoon, nor does he seem to stop for lunch.

Too caught up in your memories, you sit in the locked office until well after the sun goes down. Reaching out to your assistant to reschedule your consultations booked for that afternoon and evening with a quick text the second you got back from the store…

Two weeks fly by, your little spell invigorating you after wallowing.

It wasn’t productive and it hadn’t helped anything, but it was necessary. Processing and resting, giving your mind and body the chance to work through something is important. Realistically you know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Anxiety and trauma are always something you will have to struggle with, no matter how big of a name you make for yourself.

The walkthrough in the morning goes okay, almost back to the comfortable and borderline flirtatious camaraderie you and Joel had established early on. Everything was perfect, the colors, the tiling, the patterns, all of it amazing and beyond what you had expected. Even if you actively watched Joel create the cabinets with his hands, seen the sketches of what he envisioned for the space based on your words and description.

“I really appreciate all the work you put into the renovation, it came out so amazing.” You shuffle the papers in your hand, knocking them against the top of the desk to straighten them out before stapling the bunch of them together. Reaching for an envelope, you place the card you had taken out in his name- attached to your expenses account that you used for your own supplies. That was secured to the top of the stack with a binder clip. “And I was wondering if I could hire you.”

"What do you mean, you want to hire me? I'm already workin' a job for you." His confusion is clear, brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. His hands are secure on the arms of the chair he occupies. He only needs one or two more days of cleaning and wiping everything down, ensuring no dust from the construction work lingers, no nails or screws are prominent, sand down a few edges here and there. And then of course he offered to help put away what appeared to be a whole new kitchen in the form of pots and pans, cutlery and serve wear, fancy glasses and a set of ceramic mugs that looked hand painted. Everything had come in boxes throughout his workdays, piling up in the garage that contained most of your stuff from when you moved back.  

"For your...services, Mr. Miller. To be called upon at any time." You try to keep your excitement from showing too much, not wanting to weird him out or make him feel any more awkward with what you are just about to do. You’ve never offered someone such a thing before….to be their sole provider and essentially a sugar momma. Though you did explicitly claim there was no pressure or obligation to be intimate in exchange for the funds you wanted to provide him. He’s just a handsome man whose lived a full, busy life and you wanted to offer him a much deserved break.

But as soothing as you keep your voice and even as you keep your tone, based on the way his face falls from a small grin to a frown and his demeanor shifts from friendly curiosity to irritated, you see that you’ve already failed.  

“Listen, I don’t know what kinda man you think I am but I don’t run in the same circles as you. And as flattered as I am that you think-“ He looks a little flustered, obviously upset enough for his face to contort into something you would call grumpy. Would normally tease him about if you walked into a room and saw him making the same expression as he looked down at something or over some blueprints.

“What kind of circles do you think I run in?” You cut him off, unwilling to let his mind run away and taint the professional friendship you two have been cultivating over the last month. The incident at the hardware store crops up in your mind and suddenly everything clicks into place. He most likely thinks you work in the same business as your friend.

“You uh- well, you dress kinda fancy all the time and you’re off during the daytime. Always got your hair and nails lookin’ nice….kinda figured you-“

“I’m not a stripper or dancer. Nor do I do porn or escort services.” Your brows furrow, it should be funny- the mistaken identity, but the truth is that it hurts a little.

You lean back, unable to quell the unease of even entertaining the idea of offering him a contract if he felt so strongly about what he thought you were asking of him- of his assumption of who you were.

There was nothing wrong with anyone who chose that lifestyle and employment, but you had made a name for yourself doing what you did best. The constant under the breath and snide comments about how you carry yourself is the only reason for your success still stings. The notion that you use your looks to get clients, that it’s the only reason they seek you out; it completely diminished the passion and love you pour into every single job you take on for a long while. And Joel is voicing it right alongside the countless others that have before him. “My services are in the art industry. I’m a tattoo artist.”

You know that your eyes are focused, not quite on him but on the curls that still frame his temples. Too long, as you very well know from one of your casual conversations. It’s…not a good feeling to hear the words so many have said before coming from him. He’s been a constant in your life since the beginning of the renovation and he’s seen parts of you that no one has in a long time. For him to openly share his thoughts causes a tightening in your chest. A twinge in your back along the sensitive skin of the scar that sits there as a constant reminder to be careful.

“Mr. Miller, I can assure you that I’m not trying to get you to do anything untoward, there might be a little paragraph in there but you dictate the parameters of the contract. Completely. Everything is up to you and you certainly don’t have to accept it or even entertain the thought if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” Joel feels like a fool, a damned fool for letting his mind run away from him and his tongue for blurting out probably one of the most insensitive things he could’ve said in response to a new job offer from you. He can see the way you withdraw slightly, probably offended but trying to keep your composure. You’re too good for him and this just proves it even further.

“Assumed. Yes, I can see that now. How things look, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Fuck. No, no, no- he doesn’t think it’s a bad idea to offer him another job but…his mental calendar is full for the next six weeks. One job scheduled after this one, his expenses a little tied up after that with his birthday coming up soon- he had told Sarah he would come visit with Ellie, he hasn’t seen where she’s settled with her boyfriend. It…it’s a lot to handle on his own. Keeping track of one rotating crew with him and then two others working on other jobs around the county.

“No, I- sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m old okay? I don’t know what I’m talking about but the only services I offer are contracting and repair work." He brings a hand up to run a thumb underneath his bottom lip, eyes taking in the flutter of your lashes as his apology soaks into your skin. The almost...yearning look about your soft features. Younger than he is, in full control of those should you choose to lay that look upon. He's sure the boys your age would fall over themselves to see it again, to see more. Hell, he's ready to fall over himself and he's surely twice your age. “I’m not sure how useful I’d be if-“

“I’m in the process of obtaining permits to build on an empty city block. Two buildings. Two shop fronts. I figured you would be able to help out, but I understand if it’s not something you’re interested in. Really.”

And now you’re backpedaling, he feels like such an asshole for what he said. You…you’re an artist. A tattoo artist and really, he doesn’t know how he hadn’t picked up on that. You’ve decorated your skin with beautiful pieces, the sketchbook and tablet you’re always scribbling away on. The mention of clients, long hours, charges, the constant ink stains he sees on your clothes when you get home from work…

He doesn’t want to turn you down, can’t really turn you down. You hadn’t batted an eye at the quote he had given you for the work on your parent’s house. Nor had you argued anytime something needed an extra cushion to get the better quality option of supplies. When he had offered a discount, you had waved him off but he planned to do it anyway. You were sweet, you were considerate and he knows he wouldn’t hear the end of it if his brother found out he had a soft spot for you. But honestly? With the way his brother had been pulling away, taking on less jobs- answering less calls and responding with messages at odd hours or even the summary and final check stapled to paperwork of the rare job he takes on is the only form of communication he’s been getting from the man. So, who cares what he thinks about a discount, when it was Joel’s company.

One he had been fully prepared to hand over to his brother once upon a time. To help straighten him out, give him a hand in a world that demanded so much from him as a soldier and then turned its back on him as an honorably discharged veteran.

You take it all in stride, keeping your composure as best as you can, shoving all the negative feelings down. He’s a good man, he just…he just assumed like he said. Blinking away the unease and slightly awkward tinge to the air you tell him that you understand what he’s saying. He would be perfect for the job you want to offer him, even still. Joel’s ears turn pink at the top, his throat bobbing as he sits there and takes in all the kind words you have for him- even after he basically called you an adult entertainer asking after him to partake in…. something he wasn’t even sure he had a clear idea of.

All so he could see that smile grace your lips and see a flash of teeth he can't help but stop picturing what they would look like holding tight over your own bottom lip, depraved sounds slipping between them as he pressed tight and heavy over you. As his hips slam into yours, his co-

Jesus, he needs a minute to get a handle on himself. Everything is all consuming with you, feelings bubble up, urges strike him strong enough to wear down any thought of resistance. You make him feel like he’s seen, like he’s important, like he matters. It’s no wonder his little crush on you has manifested.

He shakes his head, aware of the watching gaze you don't let up from him as you sit serenely at your desk. The top of your shirt dipped low as you lean forward to rest your chin in the cup of your hands, taunting him. What little power he feels from his larger frame, his years over you, his skills he knows you don't share- they diminish as he glances down to the new skin before meeting your eyes again. You’re too enamoring, too ingrained into his mental space to feel like he’s got any sort of control- even if the working relationship is good, not awkward and even friendly like he wanted it to be.

Small conversations, coffee some mornings as you hang around and watch him place tiles into designs that you request, take out boxes with either your name or his scribbled on them and scattered around the coffee table in the living room. The guys never stay for lunch, opting to go out and get some fresh air.

You tilt your head just a bit, and like a match catching, friction igniting it- his stomach jolts as he pictures that same look aimed up at him as you sit on your knees in front of him. Good god, his mind needs a good rinse. Especially if he’s going to consider accepting the more than generous offer on guaranteed continued work.

"I have a company to run, can't exactly turn down an offer for a job."

"This would be more of an... open-ended contract. I would reach out for any repairs your capable hands are able to work on. From mechanics of vehicles, to construction work, to repairs on established properties. New properties that waiting on permits, like I mentioned. I’m also finalizing the sale on a personal property, so I would need help with getting that up to code as well.  I would pay you a going rate of..."

Joel's mind goes blank, the amount offered per week is astronomical. As much a single job he’s taking one at a time with how he’s got to schedule everything. The same amount he would earn from weeks, if not months of working day in and day out. The way you go on about how even if you didn't have any jobs for him during a week, he would still be compensated. His meals provided and a company card with his name plastered on it in silver on a slick black is flashed at him atop a neat stack of papers with bold print.

"For you to look over, Mr. Miller. There is no rush, nor does the offer expire. Please get back to me at your convenience."

"Uh, well-" He isn't sure what to think, how to feel at the moment. The offer too good to be true, the amount of money would allow him to only work for you. His own clients are willing to pay for his work but not to wait for the time frames he's been giving lately. It's only him in command of three crews, they can only work so fast, and he's seeing them get poached by other companies with better hours, more pay.

Joel's made a name for himself with 'Miller Contracting'. But as the years go on, his hopes to pass it on to his younger brother become a more silly notion than something that could happen. A person who has begun to see his life toward a different path, one of less hours and more focus on his wife and unborn baby.  He sighs, knowing that the thoughts would circle endlessly in his mind should he let them begin. The whole reason he has the job for you now is because his brother bailed…

"There is absolutely no pressure, just wanted to extend the offer. I have found that...other men have embellished their skill sets in order to receive the same offer. Jokingly claim they don’t care but then become petulant when it’s obvious it’s not going to happen. But you have the skills, you are competent."

"I'll-I'll get back to you, ma'am."

"The number at the top of the contract, it's an all hours one. Feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns, any stipulations or changes you'd like to make. I hope you have a very good rest of the day, Mr. Miller." You smile at him, eyes bright as you watch the way his throat bobbed with a harsh swallow.

Later that evening, two drinks deep and another poured into his cup, he settles into the worn leather of his couch with the contract in his hand. He's flipping through the many pages, preparing to read through it when a certain word catches his eye, making him choke on the drink swallow he had just taken.

Intimacy Clause

His skin is suddenly hot, fueled by the liquor he's already ingested, his thoughts turning to filth as a flash of pleasure flares brightly in his belly. Oh....he's certainly in over his head. He's heard of this- what was it called? Sugar daddy dynamic, but if he's the one getting the benefits and wages in exchange that would make him- no, he doesn't want to think about it that way. It's a job offer, a working contract.

He's got half a mind to deny the contract outright, but he can't help the way his eyes devour the words in front of him, from the first page to the last. It’s the perfect opportunity to keep you in his life, a way to keep you as close as his heart begs him too. Friendship something he wants, but the appearance of what it looks like on the outside bothering him still as he realizes how much older he is. Sure, he could run into you when around your parents and at neighborhood gatherings…but if he were to be your personal contractor. Your go-to man for construction and repair work, for…anything really- now that would really make him feel like he was worth the attention you seem to want to dot on him.

His phone is in his hand, thick fingers dialing the number you had provided, no regard for the late hour of the night. He's downing the last bit of his drink, grunting around the sting of it as he hears the ringing loud in his ear.

His heart is beating heavy, slowly, anticipation making him feel like there are far too many rings for there to be an answer on the other side of the line. He's about to cancel it when there's a click and your melodic voice greets him, pleasure flaring up in his belly again.

"Been thinking about me, Mr. Miller?" The coy tone causes a shiver to run down his spine.

Oh shit, he's definitely in over his head.

He looks good, but he doesn’t feel good. You can tell by the grimace marring his plush lips into a frown and the tension he holds in his entire body. Joel is casually walking across the street to where you’re sitting on the porch with a cup of steaming coffee. The house is being cleaned by the company you hired to detail everything. Not that it was particularly dirty, the crew had helped you to dust and wipe everything down as well as possible. It was more of an extra step for your parents to know that you want them to come back from a well-deserved vacation with no worries to even think of. Groceries are stocked in the fridge and pantry, bottles smoothies and juices at the ready for them to slip back into their lives.

It would be your last morning here, fresh from a late night at work and then doing inventory of all your supplies. A huge order loaded up on your phone that you needed to place once you settled into the home you had just finalized the sale on last week. It was finally ready for you to move in, though you suspected the work you wanted to enlist Joel’s help with would take some time.

But you both had it now, in spades. To be with each other, to work alongside each other.

He’s in a pullover sweatshirt that allows for the collar and hem of his shirt underneath to peak out. A little large on him, but not slouchy. He looks like he’s trying to not put too much pressure on his joints and you quickly set a reminder on your phone to schedule a massage for him sometime in the next week. A little gift to help ease some stress. You could use one too, you think as you see the barrage of missed calls from a blocked number. The area code for the city you had just moved from…

“Hey there, rough morning?” His voice is coarse, filling in the humid morning air with a little more warmth as he approaches and stands at the bottom of the porch steps. He’s got on a pair of glasses…and you’re thoughts are swirling in the gutter as you imagine him staring down through the lenses at you as you kneel before him…

Swallowing the sip you just took, you tilt your head toward the other side of the patio lounge you’re on, legs curled up beneath you. Large cardigan keeping you comfortable over a pair of jeans and a tank top. There’s ink stained on the front, the collar dipping low as you had moved around to finish a giant custom piece for most of the evening.

“It’s been alright, can’t really call it ‘morning’ if I haven’t been to sleep yet,” You feel a thrill down your spine as he sits, his thigh brushing up against your bare knee where a hole in the denim exposes it. You don’t move and he doesn’t shy away either. He’s got the thick stack of papers in his hand, but the envelope with the check for his renovation and the card with his name on it are gone.

“We can make this quick, then, if you want to get to bed.”

“No need, I’m moving today and then work later.” You offer him your mug and he gingerly takes it from you to slurp the sweetened and creamed coffee inside. His thick moustache catches a few droplets and as your eyes linger, his tongue sneaks out to capture them. “I’ll catch a nap in the afternoon, no need to worry, Mr. Miller.”

“Sweetheart, told you to call me Joel.” He hands you back the mug. His brown eyes catch yours and you feel your entire body go still, worry igniting you that he’s about to tell you he’s thought the contract over and wants nothing to do with it…

“Especially if I’m gonna hand this back over with my signature scrawled on it.”

“Really?” Your eyes widen as you turn to face him completely.

“You seem surprised.” He’s laughing as he flips to the last page to show you and it releases all the tension in your chest. He’s got such a good laugh, hearty and full. You want to do everything you can to hear it more, to give him a reason to laugh more. More time to focus on what he wants, not worried about keeping up with big projects that take so much time to complete. Not that he minds, like he’s assured you, he loves the work and wants to do it. But it’s getting to be a lot to handle, his brother is finding himself a different path- something he mentioned when you had asked after the other Miller brother and why he hadn’t been the one to take on your job.

“I was a little worried, it’s not exactly a normal thing to be offered. But like I said, everything is up to you, the jobs are the jobs, the work is still work, everything else is completely up to you.”

“Don’t think anything can be considered normal these days, but,” He’s reaching to place his palm on your knee in a comforting gesture. “I could honestly really use the break you’re lending me. Gives me the chance to be more present in the girls’ lives. I’ve got one last job I’ve already taken a deposit on, a small trip out to see Sarah and then I’m all yours. It’s a generous offer and I’d be a fool to turn it down.”

“What’s the last job?”

“An above ground pool and deck, shouldn’t take more than two weeks. Give me until next month, then we can get everything settled. If that’s okay?”

“I don’t mind how long it takes, I was going to pay you the first month upfront, even if you didn’t want to do this. As a bonus of sorts, for the amazing job you did here.” You wave your hand behind you toward the house. The cleaning crew is already busy, their chatter and light music filling the home with life.

“You really are somethin’, you know that?” He’s tipping his head down, looking at his scuffed and paint stained boots. Pink tinging his ears as he does so, the fingers over your knee digging in and then releasing in move you aren’t sure he’s aware of.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. And I want you to see that, you deserve the chance for a slower life, for a life you want. Now let’s go.” You gulp down the last of the coffee and set it down on the patio table to your right. The contract slides into the bag at your feet and you’re standing.

“Where we goin’?” He’s sill got those damn thick rimmed glasses on and he looks good enough to eat as he looks up at you from his spot still on the whicker couch. He hasn’t gotten up alongside you, unsure what’s going to happen now that the paperwork is officially signed and accepted- a date for the next month picked out for him to officially be on your payroll. As a sugar baby. Well, a contracted workman but the reality of the situation isn’t just that.

But you do, you’re going to take care of him. Exactly like you promised.

“To the salon. You said you’ve been putting off a trim.”

“We don’t have-“

“Joel. You said you don’t much like your hair as long as it is, it’s an easy fix.”

“I don’t…got a meeting with my brother this afternoon.” He shuffles on his feet, boots scuffing the new coat of sealant on the porch he put on with his own two hands. “Gonna tell him about the business.”

“It’s only ten, we’ll be done by then.” You go to grip his shoulder with a light hand. Your nails grazing his arm on the way up. The reassuring smile you give him melts him, you can see it. “I promise.”

A short drive later and a more than enthusiastic interaction in the industrial and modern looking salon, Joel sits with a grimace into a chair and lets the hairdresser fasten the cape securely over his throat. The place is so fancy, certainly not the master bathroom or the corner barbershop tucked into the end of a strip mall that he normally frequents. He’s tense and you feel bad so you hold up a finger to motion for the woman to pause for a moment. She smiles at you, noticing his unease as well.

“Hey,” You whisper as you come to stand behind him. He’s watching you with his dark eyes through the mirror, noticing the grays that make up most of his facial hair, steel tone that gives away how dark his hair had been once upon a time. His curls too, are the same dark gray intermixed with ash strands. Thick and erring on the side of ringlets if they should grow any longer. Your fingers gently scratch at the back of his head as you dig them into his hair, thumbs massaging up the back of his neck in a soothing gesture.

His hair is as soft as you imagined, like silk against your skin and you hum a little as you notice his eyes flutter at your ministrations. His shoulders drop and he let’s out a deep breath he must’ve been holding in.

“It’s just a trim, okay? Whatever you want, however you like it. You deserve it and you’ll feel so much better, I promise.”

And goddamn, if it’s not hard to keep promising things to one Joel Miller.

He’s so flighty, so nervous when he doesn’t know what to expect in a situation like this. Out of his depth and a little uncomfortable with the first outing as you go-to guy for all things. A paid companion of sorts. A strong contrast to the confidence he struts around with and moves through a space he’s working on, through the hardware store, as he drives his truck expertly throughout the suburban and city streets.

And when his eyes open back up, he’s returning your gentle smile with one of his own. Completely as ease. It makes your heart speed up and warmth pool in your middle.

Joel’s not nervous, but he’s not exactly thrilled to share the news of his company becoming an- contracted one he guesses would be the right term. One that has the sole purpose of fulfilling your every need, no matter now small or large a scale the project or task is. A way to provide for you and be a friend to you, to keep you close like he can’t seem to resist. He’s made peace with the decision, he’s comfortable in his decision. But his brother is…

“Why didn't you come to me, brother? I would've- I would've done anything to help, hell, I would've jumped back into working jobs everyday with you if that's what it took to save the company.” Tommy is certainly playing the part of the concerned younger sibling, professing empty words that Joel knows he wants to mean. But he doesn’t. He’s been struggling since coming back from his last tour and Joel’s done just about all he could to help in that department. Up to and including helping him with financial stuff and hiring a district attorney to help him when it had gone too far…

“Tommy, c'mon.” Joel tries to keep his tone in check, but Tommy is more than a little upset that he hadn’t known how stressed his brother was. How could Joel have told him? When could he have even told him, this is the first time to two of them have actually sat down and not just traded half conversations over the phone or even at the sad excuse of an office rented for the business. It was easier for them to work out of a trailer they would park at job sites, more secure for them to have eyes on the space that helped them to operate, well Joel to operate.

“Don't you do that, act like I don't care.” Wide brown eyes are turned toward him, the same ones that worked to get him to take the blame for too many eaten cookies before dinner, a broken lamp when they were too reckless running around the house, or when paired with a wobbling lip and tears that Joel would take make sure no one but him got into trouble. The big brother, always looking out for his younger one.

“I couldn't get you to even answer the damn phone, let alone work anymore 'n you wanted to.” A harsh scrub of his palm against his chin rustles the stubble there. Honest and reality checking words simmer in his belly, heating him up from the inside out and he realizes that there’s no stopping them from bubbling up.

He’s hurt, dammit. By the fact that after everything he’s done, his brother still decides to be selfish in a way he wished he could be proud of. Family is important, but the woman that Tommy is choosing over everything else…It just doesn’t sit well with him. “The business is good, just getting a little back logged and people aren’t willing to wait that long for certain work. It’s tough with just me and the crews, really expected to have a little more help.”

“That's not fair, I got...I got things I'm taking care of, Maria she-“

“This isn't about her, Tommy! This is about you doin' whatever the hell you wanna do, just like fucking always. your whole damn life, you've been like this.” He feels the words surge through him, spurred on by the sheer contrast of interacting with you and then his brother. One was family and yet…you treated him with more respect, you seemed to care enough to offer him a way to support himself better, to provide for him, to help him.

And the man across from him is doing nothing but making excuses as to why he hasn’t offered more.

“Joel, if I had known-“

“But you didn't! Didn’t even bother to ask how all the jobs you kept bailing on got done, how they got managed into my already full schedule. You know Ellie is thinkin’ of moving out because she thinks she’s too loud in a house that’s quiet when I’m not there and even more so when I am? She feels like a burden on me because I’m workin’ so damn hard and I pass out the second I get home.”

“Ellie’s an adult, but I’m sorry the work has you feeling like an absent father. Maybe you shouldn’t have-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Tommy. I love that girl with my whole fucking heart. I made the decision to transition to contracted work, to help out a friend with her business and personal projects. She’s supplin’ me with enough cash flow to make it worth my while and give me more down time.”

“Yeah and what, you think some pretty, successful woman is gonna be the key to keeping your company. You sold out, man, she's gonna be changing things, controlling things, you don't even know the half of it. You should've-“

“You weren't there!” Joel hollers, his patience gone and his head pounding. He realizes that the table next to them looked up from their menus at his outburst but he doesn’t care. “You weren't there, mentally, physically, you were gone off in your own little world, Tommy! She was....she saw me struggling and she treated me with kindness and respect- she was there to help! She was fucking there, Tommy!”

“You really think she gives a shit about you? Cause she don’t! She just sees an old man to buy out and take over a company because she’s bored, needs something to play with. The girls are going to flip when they find out how weak you were when a pretty little thing flashed a smile at you. All cause you think she cares about you, but she ain’t your family, Joel. Stop lookin’ for it in all the wrong places.”

“You ain’t been much of family lately, Tommy. But go ahead and judge me all you want, this is something I want to do.” He slips the envelope from his back pocket, the logo for his company branded in the top corner, your name beside his above the contact number. It was something you had mocked up for him to look over once the visit to the salon finished. He had liked it, maybe a little too much- to see your names beside each other.

Joel takes the check out from it, so the amount written out is visible. “This is for you and Maria, for my nephew, once he’s born. It’s the severance amount everyone is getting and then some. Cause I take care of my own.”

Joel is shoving up from his seat, jaw muscles twitching. Tommy’s eyes roll up from the check to his older brother looming over him. “You’re no better ‘n me, Tommy. You chased after Maria the second your case was settled.”

He’s not even in his truck for a second before he’s pulling out his new phone and hitting the call button.

All the tension leaves him from the heated interaction the second your voice filters through the line.

“Hey, hey! I’m a little tied up at the moment so you’re on speaker, I hope you don’t mind?” It’s then that he notices the background noise: soft music, the sound of something liquid being shaken up in plastic, and the tacky stretch of cling wrap being unraveled.

“Tha’s alright, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ of coming by, check out those permit applications for you and make sure they’re getting processed okay.”  

“Oh! That would be lovely. And you could check out the space I’m renting. So you know where to find me if I’m with a client. I’ll text you the address, yeah?”

“Want anything from the coffee shop?” Joel’s eyes glance across the street. His brother is gone from the table they had shared outside the café. The truck he had seen him pull up in gone as well. He should probably do the right thing and apologize to the server for taking up a table and then not ordering anything. Might as well get the coffee he had intended to as well.

“Mr. Miller, you are too sweet. I’ll text you my order. See ya in a bit!”

The line doesn’t hang up right away and he catches the soft words you speak next.

“He sounds handsome, was that your husband?”

“Oh! No, no, that was my friend. He’s my personal contractor and go to maintenance man.”

“I’m so sorry, I just assumed because I was looking back at your profile before the appointment and noticed the wedding photos on your feed.”

And then the line goes dead, the call ending as his thumb punches the red circle on the screen.

Joel’s heart thuds harshly against his ribs, his insides all twisted up. The way you sounded when you talked about him had been so warm.

My friend.

But then the person sitting in the studio with you had said the very last things he had ever anticipated.

Your husband. Wedding photos.

Were you married and neglected to tell him? Was this all some sort of game you were playing? Did you even have a need for him if you had a man who you called your own already? Where the hell did your husband fall in all of this? Was Tommy right and he was being played like a giant fool?

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dividers and by the lovely @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics

[astro-stars]

Hear me out on this... TWST with a Southern! Reader.

Like, it's the first day of school, and obviously Reader can't remember the names of the two people they just met, so when Ace says one thing or another, complaining about someone called Riddle, they just go "Hm, yeah, sweetheart."

Ace drops his lunch.

Or when they step on Leona's tail by accident, immediately going, "Oh, darling, are you alright?"

Leona couldn't fall asleep for the first time in a while.

Or after Azul's overblot, how can he not cry more, especially when Reader is rubbing circles into his shoulders, cooing, "It's okay, love, let it all out."

The scammer, unfortunately, couldn't look Reader in the eyes for a while after that.

Or when Reader gets mad, like when they cook something for their friends and Grim eats it, their immediate instinct is to go "WITH ALL I DO FOR THIS HOUSE, YOUNG MAN, WHY DON'T YOU TRY YOUR HAND AT FEEDING THIS HOUSE?!"

By house, they mean the five other first years.

please ignore that theyre out of order😭 its just the order i came up with them!

Ace Trappola

During a Class Mishap Ace messes up a potion and it starts bubbling over, covering his face in soot. Reader chuckles softly and drawls, “Well, bless your heart, sugar, you tryin’ to invent fireworks in here?” Ace sputters, trying to explain himself, but the way Reader says “sugar” makes him forget what he was even going to say. He spends the rest of the class trying (and failing) to act unfazed.

Deuce Spade

When He Gets Into Trouble Deuce gets caught in yet another fight, his uniform a mess. Reader sighs, crossing their arms. “Now, darlin’, I know your momma raised you better than this. You think brawlin’ is gonna solve your problems?” Deuce blushes deeply, stammering out an apology, and promises to do better. He can’t decide if Reader’s scolding feels more like comfort or a proper lecture, but either way, it gets through to him.

Jack Howl

After a Long Run Jack comes back from a run, panting heavily. Reader hands him a water bottle and says, “There you go, honey. Can’t have you keelin’ over on me, now.” Jack pauses mid-sip, ears twitching. He mumbles a quiet “thanks” but spends the rest of the day wondering why being called “honey” makes his tail wag.

Ruggie Bucchi

When He Steals Food Ruggie swipes a bite of Reader’s lunch, thinking they won’t notice. Reader glares and slams their hand on the table. “Now, listen here, sugar. If you’re gonna steal from me, at least have the decency to leave a ‘thank you’ note!” Ruggie freezes, torn between laughing and apologizing. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ll leave a note next time, promise.”

Floyd Leech

During One of Floyd’s Moods Floyd is sulking in the lounge, glaring at anyone who comes near. Reader plops down beside him, ignoring the tension. “What’s got you in such a twist, darlin’? You look like a cat that’s been rained on.” Floyd blinks at them before breaking into a grin. “Heh, you’re funny. I like you.” He’s back to his usual chaotic self in no time, dragging Reader into whatever mischief he has planned.

Jamil Viper

When He’s Overworked Reader notices Jamil trying to juggle a million tasks at once. They gently take a tray from his hands and say, “Now, love, you can’t be doin’ everything yourself. Even the strongest trees need a little support.” Jamil hesitates but lets them help. Later, he finds himself thinking about how soft their voice was when they called him “love.”

Kalim Al-Asim

When He’s Overly Excited Kalim bursts into Reader’s room, talking a mile a minute about his latest idea for a party. Reader smiles fondly and says, “Alright, sugarcube, slow down. You’re buzzin’ around like a bee in a flower shop.” Kalim laughs, realizing he’s gotten carried away. “Sorry! I just get so excited talking to you!” Reader’s warm tone makes him feel even more enthusiastic.

Sebek Zigvolt

When He’s Loud (As Always) Sebek’s voice booms through the dorm, startling everyone nearby. Reader raises an eyebrow and says, “Well, darlin’, you sure do have a voice on you. Could probably wake the dead if you tried.” Sebek pauses, unsure if that was a compliment or not. He straightens up and replies, “Of course! A knight must always be heard!” But his face betrays the fact that he’s flustered.

Silver

When He Falls Asleep Reader finds Silver asleep under a tree and gently drapes a blanket over him. “Sleep tight, sugar. Even knights need their rest.” When Silver wakes up and sees the blanket, his heart skips a beat. He quietly resolves to thank them later, though he’s already blushing at the thought.

Vil Schoenheit

During a Self-Care Lesson Vil insists on giving Reader a skincare lesson. As he critiques their routine, Reader smirks and says, “Well, bless your heart, sweetpea. I didn’t realize I was sittin’ with the beauty queen of Twisted Wonderland.” Vil narrows his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitch upward. “Flattery will get you nowhere—though I appreciate the sentiment.”

Rook Hunt

When He’s Observing Them Rook starts waxing poetic about Reader’s charm and grace. They laugh and reply, “Oh, honey, you’re layin’ it on thicker than molasses on a pancake.” Rook places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “But I only speak the truth, mon trésor!” Reader shakes their head, amused by his dramatics.

Epel Felmier

When He’s Feeling Insecure Epel complains about being underestimated because of his looks. Reader pats his shoulder and says, “Now, don’t you fret, darlin’. Even the prettiest apples can pack the strongest punch.” Epel grins, feeling a little more confident. “Thanks, Yuu. You’re real good at makin’ a guy feel better.”

Idia Shroud

When He’s Awkward Around Them Reader catches Idia muttering to himself about a game. They lean in with a warm smile. “Whatcha talkin’ about, sugar? Don’t keep me in suspense.” Idia jumps, his hair flaring pink. “N-nothing! It’s nothing!” But the way they said “sugar” replays in his head for days.

Malleus Draconia

During a Starlit Walk Reader invites Malleus to stargaze with them, saying, “Ain’t the night sky somethin’ else, darlin’? Makes all the troubles of the day seem so small.” Malleus gazes at them instead of the stars. “Indeed,” he murmurs, though he’s not talking about the sky.

not malleus all on his own

TAGLIST; @soramcduckahyucky

[eat-limes-bitches]

Southern Cookin'

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS!Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: When Bucky and Sam get stranded in a Storm, they go to the nearest place they can, Bucky’s country home, but what happens when Walker shows up at the front door too?

WARNINGS: Fluff! Touch of angst, angry southern woman (this is a definite warning, if you've lived with one, you know."

Word Count: 1844

A/N: It's been storming its butt off here down south and as I was baking brownies this idea popped into my head and made me giggle, so I hope yall get a chuckle out of it too! Stay safe out there <3

Enjoy! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

The mission was a disaster. Not only had they just got their asses kicked, but they also had to deal with the Bullshit from John Walker and then the country sky opened up with an early summer thunderstorm, drenching the two men with its torrential downpour.  

“We are hours away from the nearest safe house.” Sam sighed, looking at the database.

 Bucky looked over at his teammate, Sam was suppressing a shiver each time the wind blew. His split lip and bruised cheek getting more gnarly with each passing minute. He looked up at the sky, the dark swirling clouds showing no signs of letting up any time soon. Fearing for Sam's health and with no other option in sight, Bucky let out a sigh. 

“I know a place.” Sam raised a curious eyebrow but didn't ask any questions, the idea of a warm shelter too tempting to risk Bucky changing his mind. Bucky looked around for a moment, to Sam it almost seemed like he was calculating his location based on the landmarks before giving a little nod.

“Should be just on the other side of this field. 15-minute walk give or take.” Bucky concluded, making his way through the field, Sam not far behind him. 

Soon, the pair found themselves on the front porch of an old country farmhouse, the white porch swing swaying violently as the storm picked up. Bucky reached for the doorknob before pausing and looking over his shoulder at Sam, fixing him in his infamous glare before uttering a low warning. 

“Not a word of this to anyone. You hear me?”

Sam was used to Bucky’s gruffness at this point in their partnership but this was a new level of protectiveness that he hadn’t seen before. He raised his hands in a placating motion before agreeing.  The tension that seemed to be permanently engraved in Bucky’s form disappeared as soon as he stepped through the door. The sound of their entrance caused a woof to erupt from a room on the other side of the downstairs. Bucky toed off his boots, motioning for Sam to do the same when a rusty-colored dog came rushing into the room through a dog door barking his head off.  Bucky let out a chuckle, catching Sam by surprise, watching as Bucky then crouched down to greet the dog.

“Hey whiskey, it’s just me bubba.” Bucky cooed, scratching the pup behind his pointy ears.

“Where’s your momma little man?” Bucky asked the pup, removing his hand as the dog darted off back through the dog door before poking his head back through, watching the two men. 

Bucky stood, and followed after the dog, waving Sam along with him. The pair walked through a second door and they were both hit with a wave of warmth, causing Sam to let out a little sigh. The house smelled of cocoa and sugar, the sound of the storm outside blending into the calming atmosphere while a record played in the background. Just as Bucky was about to walk through a little hallway, Sam caught his shoulder, turning Bucky to look at him.

“Man, where the hell are we?” He asked, and then nearly fell out when he saw pink flush the ex assassins cheeks. 

“Uh, this is my home. I uh, I live here.” Bucky mumbled shyly refusing to look Sam in the face. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“You live here on your own?” He pressed a little further. Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, I live here with my girl.” 

A person appeared from around the hall corner as if on cue, the little red dog hot on her heels. She looked at the two men, her gaze fixing on Bucky. She smiled at him sweetly, brushing her hands off on her apron, leaving floury handprints in her wake. 

“Bucky! You’re home!” She waltzed over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pulling back realizing how cold his skin was. 

“James you’re freezin’ and gettin’ water all over my hardwood floor.” She scolded him a country accent slipping out as she spoke. She then noticed Sam standing behind him and pursed her lips before fixing Bucky in a glare.

“You brought company over here in an even more sorry state than you and haven’t offered him anything to dry himself off or a fresh change of clothes!” She proceeded to chase the two men up the stairs giving strict instructions to change and dry off while she put a pot of coffee on. 

Sam let out a chuckle as the woman made her way back to where he presumed the kitchen was as the pair made their way upstairs. 

“She’s a spitfire huh?” Sam asked, taking the change of clothes from Bucky who just shrugged slightly, a soft smile decorating his features.

“Yeah, you could say that. 

Now in dry clothes, the two men wandered into the kitchen right as she pulled two batches of brownies out of the oven. She looked up after setting the brownies on the counter, giving a nod of approval seeing the men in a more presentable state. She wandered over to a cabinet throwing it open and reaching for the coffee cups on the top shelf, just out of her reach when Bucky appeared behind her, pulling them down from the shelf and placing them in her hands.

She smiled sweetly up at him before standing up on her toes and planting a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you darlin’” She smiled softly.

“Of course doll.” Bucky smiled right back, stepping out of her way as she moved away to pour the coffee. 

“Sam? How do you want your coffee honey?”  She called out, pulling out the cream and sugar. 

“Uh, just black is fine. Thank you-” His words faded out, not knowing this woman's name. She handed him a mug with a chicken on it before handing another mug with a goat on it to Bucky before she spoke.

“Y/n.” She sent him a sweet smile before picking up her own mug and leaning into Bucky’s side who had lifted his arm to make room for her. 

Sam had a smirk on his face looking between Y/n and Bucky as he spoke, “I didn’t know Bucky had a girlfriend,” He drawled out the word girlfriend, watching Bucky’s cheeks get darker as he looked anywhere but at his partner as Y/n laughed. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t want to tell too many people. Somethin’ ‘bout worryin’ for my safety.” She shook her head as if the thought of Bucky trying to protect her made her laugh. 

Sam nodded in an understanding fashion. “Does anyone know about your little secret Buck?” Sam teased lightly. Bucky gave a soft smile with a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Steve did.” At the mention of the name, the room grew heavy with sadness. Y/n seemed to shift a little deeper into Bucky’s embrace before stepping away cutting the brownies and giving each man a piece. 

“So you knew Steve.” Sam started, looking at Y/n thoughtfully. 

“Yes, I did.” She started with a sad smile. “It was a bad storm like today, he and Bucky showed up at my door looking like two drowned rats, thinking it was one of the safe houses. Well, they were so pitiful lookin’ that I couldn’t just turn them away. So much like you two, I brought them inside, put them in dry clothes, and made them some coffee.” 

Just then there was a knock at the door. Bucky set down his coffee cup and went to investigate, leaving Sam and Y/n alone in the kitchen. Y/n reached over the counter and placed a hand over Sam’s.

“Look sugar, I understand why you did what you did.” She said softly. “Do I agree with it? No. Does Bucky agree with it? Of course not.” She let out a sigh before continuing. “But I understand it. But if there is one thing I know about Steve Rogers, is that he wouldn’t have just left anyone with that shield.” She concluded, patting his hand when Bucky let out a shout, causing the pair in the kitchen to dart to the front room.

When they arrived, there was a soaking-wet John Walker and Lamar Hoskins standing on the front porch. Y/n walked up to stand next to Bucky before looking at the two men.

“Can I help you two boys?” She asked, glancing from one to the other. John, seeming to puff up in the presence of a pretty lady, extended his hand out. 

“Good evening ma’am. John Walker, Captain America.” Y/n looked from his hand to his face, making no move to accept his handshake. 

“Your name very well may be John Walker, but you’re mistaken on the Captain America part sweetheart.” She gave him a once over before continuing, “You look more like a sorry excuse for a rodeo clown on the fourth of July than Captain America, but either way, that didn’t answer my question.”

She took a step up to Walker looking him dead in the eye. “Can I help you?” John seemed to deflate, stuttering over his words trying to make some sort of logical sense. Y/n raised her eyebrows waiting patiently for this worm of a man to get his act together and with no end to his incoherent mumblings in sight, she sighed. 

“Well, if you don’t need anything, I’ll have Hades show you out.” She said sweetly. Bucky chuckled lightly before backing up to stand next to Sam.

Sam leaned over to Bucky. “Who the hell is Hades?” Bucky just nodded towards the door as Y/n let out a loud whistle.

“Hades! We have some guests that need to be escorted out.” As soon as the word “out” left her mouth, a huge black Doberman appeared out of nowhere, growling and barking at the two men at the front door. With one loud bark, Walker went flying off the front step and back down the path to where their car was waiting, Lamar, hot on his heels as Hades bounded down the steps chasing them off with Whiskey following suit. 

The two dogs watched attentively as the car drove off and once they deemed the men to be far enough away, came bounding back into the house, tongue lolling out of their mouths, causing the trio to laugh until the dogs were inside making a mad dash for the living room.

“Boys! You get back here!” Y/n shouted, grabbing a towel off a nearby chair and chasing after the two soaking wet dogs. Bucky, still laughing, walked over to the door closing it before walking back over to Sam, who clapped him on the shoulder. 

“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Sam concluded. “Don’t let her get away.” Bucky smiled watching on in amusement as Whiskey ran by with the towel that Y/n had grabbed to dry him off, with her hot on his heels.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[fishfooddude]

Ooo if it’s okay (totally okay if not!) can I please request an angst to fluff Carmy x fem!reader where Y/n and Carmy had been engaged when he was in culinary school in New York, maybe she was going to a University then for elementary education or something, but they had broken up after Carmy got the news about his brother and went back to Chicago and they lost touch. Fast forward and Y/n is visiting Chicago and happens to walk into The Bear to eat (she didn’t know it was Carmy’s restaurant because the last time they talked, “The Bear” was “The Beef”) holding a little girl almost 2 years old who looks strikingly similar to Carmy. I’m sure he’d be upset that she didn’t tell him about her though, but they talk through everything (maybe Carm has gotten some therapy by this point😅)

Carmy getting to know his daughter and overtime rekindling his relationship and getting back together with Y/n?🥹

Second Chances

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

The Bear Master List

My Directory

“Carmen! Will you fuckin’ talk to me!” you yelled as you watched Carmy move across your shared bedroom.

“There’s nothin’ to fuckin’ talk about!” he yelled back, throwing clothes into his suitcase.

“Carm, you can’t just ‘move back to Chicago’! We’re engaged! I’m in school, and you haven’t even put in a two-week notice. We just renewed our fuckin’ lease!” you challenged, throwing your hands up exhaustedly. “Listen, I get it. Grief and mourning is hard-”

“Don’t. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Carmy said coldly, stopping in his tracks. You stepped back and watched Carmy push a hand through his hair, “Listen. Y/N. I need to do this. Come, don’t come. I honestly don’t fuckin’ care at this point.”

“You don’t care? Carmy… we’re engaged? We’re engaged, but don’t you care about me? About what I want? How do you-”

“Break up with me then.” Carmy cut you off. His words left you blindsided, and you stared at him as you let the emotions ruminate. 

“What?” 

“This is happening Y/N. I’m moving back to Chicago, and truthfully, I don’t care what you think or how this makes you feel. Mikey left me his restaurant, and I’m gonna make it good. Stay in New York, do whatever. I don’t care.” Carmy said scarily calmly as he zipped his bag. 

“Fuck you, Berzatto.” you scoffed as you tried to pry the engagement ring off of your finger. “I’ve known you for two fuckin’ years. You’ve talked to your sister, like, what, three times in the last two years? You’re brother even less- and now you’re throwing away our life to go run some shitty sandwich shop?”

“You don’t fuckin’ get it, Y/N! Okay. You don’t fuckin’ get it.” Carmy exacerbated as he grabbed his bag. “Just forget about me.”

~~~~

“Momma!” You heard your two-year-old's excited squeal from the other side of the AirBnB the two of you had been staying in. You groaned; it was 5 a.m. and entirely too early to wake up, but Hailey couldn’t tell time yet. As you got out of bed, you heard Hailey’s giggles intensifying. You laughed as you walked out of the bedroom and down the hall into the living room. Haliey had managed to get onto the window seat by the large bay window overlooking the busy Chicago street.

“Do you see a dog?” you cheerfully asked as you came up and lifted her onto your hip. Hailey nodded furiously and pointed across the street, where a man struggled to walk five large dogs. You smiled and bounced Haliey on your hip. “Just like at home, huh, sugar cookie? Chicago is a lot like New York.” Hailey giggled and rested her face on your collarbone, bringing her thumb to her mouth. “Okay, let’s get you some breakfast. Then we’ll get dressed. After that, you can watch some Bluey while Momma gets ready… then I’m gonna drop you off at Uncle Ryan’s house, and you two will have a super fun day- I heard he’s taking you to the zoo.” you explained, Hailey propped up at the mention of ‘the zoo’ which made you laugh. “Yeah, you and Uncle Ryan are gonna see lions, and tigers, and bears-”

“Oh my!” Haliey exactly squealed against her thumb. You laughed and sat her on the couch before going into the kitchen to make the two of you cereal bowls. “Momma!” 

“I’m comin’ Hailey. I’m comin’.” you ensured as you returned to the living room. You placed the bowls on the coffee table and grabbed your phone from your bag. “Okay… Hailey, I’m going to get this job. We are going to move to Chicago permanently… Mommas’ gonna have an amazing job, and you’re gonna be so so so happy.” you said more to reassure yourself as opposed to informing Hailey of your prospective job. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Hailey happily munched on her cereal and babbled on about some elaborate story she’d created while you nervously poked at your bowl. You watched her sandy brown bedhead-ridden hair bounce as she got more invested in telling you her story. Her stories were always the highlight of your day. Hailey was what kept you going when work was a pain in the ass or when everything was overwhelming. The way she lit up over things she loved, the way she laughed and smiled, her imagination… her eyes. The same dazzling blue of her father- you shook your head at the thought of him. 

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. James Beard award-winning chef with a highly decorated resume of some of the most prominent, four Michelin Star restaurants across the country- hell across the world. He not only gave up that to run a crappy sandwich shop, he also gave up your shared future. The night he left was one of the worst nights of your life. You almost failed your finals the following month, and then you found out you were pregnant. Finishing school, having Hailey, and doing internships was hard, but the work paid off. Today was the day you were interviewing to be the principal of one of Chicago's most elite private schools. Cushy benefits, a considerable pay bump, being closer to your brother and his long-term girlfriend… the only downside was the potential of running into Carmy. 

~~~

“Yo Y/N- over here!” Danny called, waving his hand to catch your attention just outside some fancy restaurant Suzie had managed to get a reservation at. You waved and saw Hailey smiling in your direction.

“Hey guys- there’s my baby!” you cooed, taking Hailey from his arms. She happily squealed and kicked her feet as you bounced her on your hip. “I missed you, sugar cookie.”

“How’d the interview go?” Suzie excitedly asked. You shrugged as you ran your thumb across Hailey’s cheek. Suzie nodded, “Well, they’d be stupid not to hire you. Com’on The Bear is one of the best new restaurants in the city, and I’ve been dying to try it.”

The four of you had a phenomenal meal, although there was something eerily similar about it. “I swear I’ve had this exact meal before.” you laughed.

Carmy was walking to the hostess stand when he heard your laughter. He stopped dead in his tracks and quickly scanned the dining room before his eyes landed on the back of your head. It had been years since he’d seen you, but your laugh was the dead giveaway he needed to identify you. Carmy turned his attention back to the hostess stand and passed off a clipboard. “Here…” he said before walking back to the kitchen. Before he entered, he looked back into the dining room and saw your side profile. He swallowed softly as he felt memories of the two of you rushing back to him. Carmy paused before quickly walking back into the kitchen and to his station. 

Carmy tried to distract himself for the rest of dinner service, but knowing you were on the other side of those swinging doors was enough to throw him off his game. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered in Syd’s direction before quickly walking into the back office before she could respond. As soon as he’d reached the office, he closed and locked the door behind himself before leaning back against the door and pushing his hands through his hair. “Name all the brown things…” he mumbled as he took a deep breath. Carmy looked around the office, “The couch… the desk…, and those shelves… fuckin’ Jason.” he scoffed, realizing the ‘anxiety tricks’ his therapist had taught him had been beneficial. After another deep breath, Carmy went to sit at his desk. He opened the top drawer to reveal a worn bubble mailer. He stared at it for a second before slamming the drawer closed. He couldn’t think about you right now; he needed to get back into the kitchen.

When he walked out of the kitchen again, he saw your party had left. Carmy cursed under his breath as he quickly walked toward the exit. You coming into his restaurant had to be a sign, right? He looked up and down the street, trying to find you. Panic began to creep up as he realized he may have been too late. “Holy shit… Carmy?” your voice made Carmy’s brain go blank as he turned to face you. He was awestruck by your presence and couldn’t manage to string two words together. “Carmy?” you asked again, laughing awkwardly. 

“He-ey-y bab- Y/N… hey Y/N.” Carmy corrected himself before shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. 

“Hey… what are you doin’ here?” 

“Oh uh- this,” Carmy started before awkwardly gesturing up to The Bear, “It’s my-my restaurant. It used to be The Beef- Mikey’s restaurant, but uhh, we remodeled…” he explained. You nodded and glanced at your watch, wondering where Danny was with the car. “So uh- what, what brought you to Chicago?” 

“Job interview- principal position at Ridgeview Conservatory.” 

“Wow, that’s fancy.” Carmy responded, “You in Chicago much longer?” 

“A couple more days… visiting my brother Danny and his girlfriend.”

“Do you wanna get coffee tomorrow afternoon?” Carmy blurted out, “It’s cool if you can’t- I just… this feels like a- like a sign. Ya know?” 

You nodded, “I-I uh... Yes. I can do that.”

“Cool, cool… there’s this place on 9th called Ginger Snap- wanna meet up at like 3:30?”

“Yeah, that sounds good… see you then?” you confirmed, finally noticing Danny pulling up to the curb, “Bye, Carm..” he nodded and watched you get into the backseat next to the car seat. You glanced down to see Hailey sleeping. You watched her momentarily before the weight of your decision to have coffee with Carmy finally hit you. “Are you workin’ tomorrow, Danny?” 

“Yeah, did you need me to watch Hails?” he eagerly asked as he drove toward your AirBnB. 

“It’s okay. I can just take her with me.” 

“You have another interview?” Suzie brought up, turning her head to face you. You shook your head and thought for a second.

“Just hangin’ out with a friend of mine.” you slyly responded, hoping Danny hadn’t seen you talking to Carmy. Suzie shot you a suspicious look before turning back in her seat. “I’m sure they’ll love to meet Hailey.”

~~

“Carmy. Ready for our appointment?” Jason called. Jason was a clean-cut man. He wasn’t anything special. Carmy couldn’t pick him out if he'd been in a lineup of men. The waiting room was posh, with muted pastel green walls and some simplistic nature art in simple black frames. After a year, Carmy still couldn’t determine whether they were trees or leaves. He got up from his chair and tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash before following the man into an office. Carmy watched him sit in a dark leather armchair before he sat on a grey couch across from him. “So. What’s new?”

“I’m getting with my ex-fiance in about an hour… that’s-that’s new. Um… I don’t know how I feel about that.” Carmy started leaning back on the couch as he folded his arms over his lap and nervously played with the side seam of his jeans. He looked up to meet Jason’s non-chantant face, “I told her to forget about me, and then a couple of months later, she mailed me her engagement ring… I keep it at my desk as like a reminder of everything I gave up for this freakin’ restaurant- and then she has dinner in my restaurant.” Carmy chuckled softly, “She had dinner at my restaurant on a night when I made one of her favorite dishes- that’s a sign, right? She came to Chicago for a job interview- she’s gonna nail it. She’s a fuckin’ genius… badass clinical social worker with an additional master’s degree in early childhood education. She was always at the top of her class, even when she was working and doing multiple internships. She dealt with me being an ass… I don’t know Jason. It feels like a sign, and I know we talked about coincidences like six months ago, and I don’t wanna get all God-y, but I feel like this is God bringing her back to me. Like-like, the world is this big massive black hole of a place, and my life has been filled with all this pain and shit, right? She was the only good thing I had; now she’s back. I could get her back.” Carmy finally took a breath, and Jason shifted in his seat and moved his pen between his fingers like he had done when he was in deep contemplation. 

“Do you remember your first goal when we started seeing each other?” 

Carmy thought momentarily before a laugh escaped his chest. “I said I wanted to feel in control of my life.” Jason nodded and shifted in his seat again. “I sound insane, don’t I? I left this woman high and dry. She doesn’t want me back, but I need to apologize for the last time we saw each other.”

“What if she doesn’t accept your apology? Do you think you can accept that?”

Carmy scoffed at the question, “There’s no way she’s going to accept my apology. I think I can accept that… but can you concede it was, in fact, a sign that all of this is happening right now, right?”

“I believe in coincidences. I want you to tell me the worst-case scenario, the best-case scenario, and the most realistic scenario of what this meeting will result in.” Jason calmly asked while he maintained eye contact with Carmy.

“Okay…” Carmy nodded as he thought for a moment. “Worst case scenario, she either doesn’t show up, or she does show up and makes a scene tellin’ me what a d-bag I am- granted, she wouldn’t use that language. She’d say something WAY harsher, which is one of the many things I love- loved about her. She always spoke her mind… best case scenario, we get coffee. While we’re drinking our coffee, she tells me she’s moving to Chicago, and I ask her out, and we get back together.”

“Idealistic. I like that. What’s the most realistic?” Jason asked with a chuckle.

“We get coffee, we talk. She decides she doesn’t hate me for leaving her, and I don’t know beyond that…” Carmy answered truthfully.

~~

“This is a mistake…” you mumbled to yourself as you adjusted Hailey on your lap. Gingersnap Coffee was a small coffee shop. It was cute, definitely a place Carmy and you would’ve gone to when you two were together in New York. You sighed and went back to watching the door as Hailey flopped her giraffe toy on the table. 

Carmy arrived at the coffee shop on the dot at 3:30. He saw you sitting at the back table and felt a surge of energy overcome him. The two of you made eye contact; Carmy grinned as he approached the table. You stood up awkwardly, resulting in Haliey pausing her giraffe story, “Hey,” you smiled weakly, immediately regretting the fact you brought Hailey. Carmy was about to greet you when Hailey curiously looked up at him. He glanced down at the little girl and felt his heart stop. 

Carmy stared at Hailey. She smiled at him and pushed her giraffe toy in his direction. Unsure of what to do, he looked at you, then back at Hailey, then at you again before finally sputtering, “Yo-you have a kid?” 

You nodded slowly and gestured for him to sit down. Carmy hesitated, but after you sat down, he followed suit. Carmy stared at Hailey. “I shoulda told you.” you passively excused.

“W-wait…” Carmy started, “She’s… is she?”

You nodded at Carmy’s implication, “I can explain-”

Carmy shook his head, “You had my baby and didn’t tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?” 

“You left me,” you said in a hushed, blunt tone, “Carm, you told me to forget about you. I gave you the ring back. I blocked your number. I was trying to forget about you- then I found out I was pregnant. I hadn’t talked to you in weeks, and I figured if you could so easily throw away our engagement-”

“No.” Carmy spoke sternly, “If I knew you were pregnant, I woulda done the right thing.”

The two of you sat in a tense silence interrupted by Hailey sneezing multiple times, “Bess you!” she giggled, making you laugh as you dug a tissue out of your purse to wipe her nose. Carmy leaned back and watched the scene before him, realizing he’d missed two years of her life. “Tank you Momma.” 

Carmy wrung his hands out under the table and nervously glanced at the decorative clock on the wall adjacent to the table the three of you had occupied. “Do you wanna hold her?” your question surprised Carmy. He thought briefly before slowly nodding, “Okay… so Hailey, this is one of Mommy’s friends?” you stopped yourself and sighed. “That’s a lie… this is your Dad…” 

Dad. Camy felt like his chest would explode as you spoke to Hailey. The word echoed in his head as he accepted Hailey in his arms. She looked up at him with curious eyes. “Hi,” she softly greeted him as she reached up to touch Carmy’s face. He smiled at her.

“Hi,” Carmy repeated softly, “Is-is that- do… do you like giraffes?” 

~~

You were supposed to go back to New York the day after tomorrow; you stared up at the ceiling that night. As tired as you were, you couldn’t turn your brain off. Guilt, shame, regret… you should’ve told Carmy you were pregnant. What did he even mean by ‘do the right thing’? Would he have abandoned Mikey’s restaurant and come back to New York? Would the two of you gotten back together? Hailey’s life would’ve been so different if he’d been there from the start. You sighed, reached for your phone from the side table, and quickly scrolled to Carmy’s contact. You paused for a moment; it was almost 2 in the morning. You knew he was probably still awake.

“Hey- you okay?” Carmy answered on the first ring. “Yeah- can’t sleep… I’m due back in New York… I don’t know if I got the principal job… what do we do?” your voice quivered as you softly spoke into the phone. “I don’t know… I know I’ve only met Hailey once, but I love her. I can’t walk away from her.” 

“Are you watching that Italian grandma cooking show?” Carmy chuckled at your question, “Yeah… can’t sleep.” the line was quiet momentarily, “Hailey and I used to watch it when she was colic.” 

“She’s my kid.” Carmy chuckled. You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you through the phone. You rolled onto your side and watched Hailey sleep. She was sprawled out, taking up most of the bed with her little body. “If I get this job and move out here permanently, do you want to do a shared custody thing? I guess it could start with the three of us, and then you can have more individual time with her…”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Carmy asked, ignoring the custody question entirely. “What do you think? I’m workin’ two jobs and have a two-year-old.” you laughed. Carmy smiled and pushed a hand through his hair, “Okay… guess I just wanted to know if- I know you probably don’t wanna get back together, but I don’t know… I was talkin’ to my therapist earlier. He gave some perspective- I wasn’t the man you deserved. I treated you like fuckin’ shit, and I’ve spent the last two years of my life trying to forget about you and move on with my life and create something Mikey would be proud of… I regret how we ended and hate myself for not being involved in Hailey’s life. When I was holding her and-and she was tellin’ that story about her giraffe… I can’t go back to not being in her life.” Carmy admitted. “Uh- if you get that job and move out here, there’s an empty two-bedroom in my building. This isn’t me sayin’ we should move in together or anything, but um, if we’re in the same building, I can help with Hailey more and make that a little easier on ya and get to know her- what do you think?” 

“Wow… um…” you swallowed as thoughts raced through your head, “No pressure. If you stay in New York, I can visit- maybe… maybe move back? I haven’t really thought about it, but I want to be in Hailey’s life.” Carmy sputtered. “Uh- yeah… yeah. Even if I get the job out here, I still have to go back to New York to put in my two-week notice and talk to my landlord and just- just a lot of stuff…” 

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” Carmy awkwardly laughed, “No. I mean- we won’t get back together just because we have a kid. But I’m open to you being in Hailey’s life.” 

~~

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” Richie coldly said as he helped carry boxes upstairs. Carmy rolled his eyes, opting to ignore him. “Carmen, are you even sure she’s your kid?” 

“Will you shut the fuck up? Hailey is my daughter. I don’t need a test to prove it.” Carmy defended as he dropped a box on the floor of your new apartment. You’d gotten the principal position and moved to Chicago. With help from Danny and Richie, today was the day you and Hailey were officially moving out of Danny’s guest room and into the two-bedroom apartment across the hall from Carmy’s place.

“You didn’t say the empty apartment was directly across the hall from you.” you laughed as you entered the apartment. You noticed the tension between Richie and Carmy; your arrival in Chicago surprised the Berzatto family. While you and Carmy were together, you’d never been formally introduced to any of his family. Natalie and Pete welcomed you with open arms. She was happy to be an aunt and to see Carmy happy. Richie and Donna, on the other hand, were apprehensive about your presence in Carmy’s life. 

Carmy shrugged. “It’s not a problem, is it?” He tried to be nonchalant and keep his flirty tone more subdued, but everyone saw through it. Richie rolled his eyes and went back out to the moving van.

“Carm.”

“I just wanna be close by, not the worst thing in the world.” Carmy defended himself. You shook your head and took a box into Hailey’s bedroom. Carmy watched you walk away, swallowing softly when his eyes landed on your butt. He shook his head and walked across the hall. He entered his apartment to see Suzie sitting on the floor with Hailey. 

“Hey.” Suzie smiled when she noticed Carmy standing by the door. Hailey looked up and happily squealed. You and Hailey had been in Chicago for a couple of weeks, and Carmy was really trying to see Hailey as often as he could.

Carmy sat on the floor by Suzie while Hailey pushed herself off the floor to sit on his lap. He smiled and hugged her loosely, saying, “Hi, baby girl.” Hailey cuddled into his chest, making his heart flutter. 

You’d finished wrangling the boxes and wandered out of your apartment and across the hall to Carmy’s. You were going to ask if he was hungry but stopped when you saw Carmy leaning against the couch, cradling a sleeping Hailey, “And then you blanch the greens- that’s when you boil or steam something and immediately dip it in ice water. Your Momma used to hate greens, so one day, I made her this recipe, and she said it was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.” 

“I think she’s asleep,” you commented as you approached the couch. Carmy looked up at you and smiled.

“She is… I just wanted to finish reading this recipe to her.” Carmy shrugged, placing the book on the coffee table. You sat next to Carmy on the floor and put your head on Carmy’s shoulder as you watched Hailey’s chest rise and fall. 

“Where’d Suzie go?” you asked, scooting closer to Carmy. You noticed him swallow nervously before explaining she had to go to work. “You’re good with her,” you commented, referring to how Carmy cradled Hailey protectively.

“You think so?” Carmy asked as he shifted his attention to you.

You nodded, “You’re a natural.” 

Carmy scoffed, “I wouldn’t say I’m a natural… I just wanna make up for lost time.” you nodded again and snaked an arm around Carmy’s waist. He tensed at the feeling and sat straighter.

“Well, you’re doin’ great.”

~~

“Daddy!” Hailey happily squealed as Carmy walked into your apartment that morning. He smiled and put the bag he’d been carrying on the counter as he closed the front door with his foot. 

“Hi, baby girl.” he leaned down to pick her up. Hailey hugged him tightly and started explaining a dream she’d had. Carmy smiled and bounced her on his hip. He listened contently as he went into the kitchen. You heard the commotion from your bedroom. You smiled as Carmy’s voice carried through your askew bedroom door. As you finished getting ready for work, you noticed the conversation between Hailey and Carmy. It had been about six months since you’d moved to Chicago, and Carmy was holding on to his promise to be involved in Hailey’s life. Watching your daughter fall in love with him was touching. He was so calm around her and interested in everything she said.

When you left your bedroom, you saw Carmy and Hailey sitting at the table. She was happily munching on a bowl of cereal, and Carmy sat back, drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey Carmy, hi sugar cookie.” you smiled as you leaned in to kiss Hailey’s cheek. She squealed, making you smile before kissing her other cheek.

“Daddy, kiss too!” Hailey demanded, pointing to Carmy. 

“You want Daddy to kiss your cheek, too?” you asked, resting your chin on her head. 

“No! Daddy kiss too!” Hailey demanded again, “Momma, kiss Daddy too!”

You looked at Carmy and saw a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Do you think Daddy wants a kiss, too?”  Hailey squealed and pointed at Carmy again. You nodded and kissed the top of her head before moving over to kiss his cheek. Hailey giggled and went back to eating her cereal. Carmy swallowed softly and quickly finished his coffee before abruptly standing up to rinse out his coffee cup. You waited a second before joining him in the kitchen. “Sorry, was that weird?”

Carmy shook his head, “No, it was okay, but… can Daddy have a real kiss sometime?” 

“I think that can be arranged.” you chimed nonchalantly. 

“Can Daddy take you out sometime?” 

“Only if you stop referring to yourself as Daddy.” you laughed as you playfully pushed his shoulder. 

“Deal.”

[mistydeyes]

This is my first time doing this!!!!! can you please do 141 with a rich reader! Like she buys them cars,supplies,homes,etc but not in a sugar momma way like “ I’m make money……..and my love language is gift giving” like imagine them walking into her house mansion and is like “this is 10 times bigger than my flat building” and she’s like “oh shush….besides this is your home now” or when she picks them up to go to the pub she pulls up in their dream car and their like “love your car” she like “it’s yours” and throws the key. And when they give her gifts she ADORES them (it’s some purfum she likes) she’s just loves spoiling her baby and they don’t know how handle Being so special! CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE A REACT ON THIS ITS BEEN ROTTING MY MIND

hehe thank you so much for requesting! we love expensive taste and a woman who's love language is gift gifting!!

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summary: When the 141 met you, they had no idea what kind of life you came from. However from extravagant vacations to luxury vehicles, you make sure to treat your man right.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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price

Looking at John, you can tell he enjoys the more expensive taste in things. Holidays are always a joy for you both as you spend your hard-earned salary on practical yet extravagant gifts. For your anniversary, you wanted to impress. Earlier in the year for your birthday, he had gotten you a bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 and you were over the moon. It had it's own shelf in your home and he always made sure to compliment the rich, sultry scent when you wore it. This inspired you as you dragged John to the bright red building in Grasse. You had spent the last week in the south of France, seeing the sights and enjoying the extravagance of wine and pastries. He had been wondering where you were going as you maneuvered through the streets and eventually walked up the path. "This is the final part of a French tour," you smiled as you entered, "a perfume-making class!" As he chuckled at the idea, you checked yourselves in with the minimal amount of French you knew. "What made you pick this?" he asked as you waited for your perfume instructor. You looked around at the various creations and bottles that glistened in the afternoon sun. "You always talk about wanting to find the perfect scent," you commented, "especially when you have one of your fancy military balls or ceremonies." He nodded as he cozied himself onto the leather couch. "Well looks like this is the perfect place to do so," he smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to pick an expensive-smelling one for my luxurious husband."

soap

"This can't be right," Johnny mumbled as he arrived at your address. You told him you lived in the English countryside and he expected a cottage fit for a granny. He was not expecting a castle that looked like it stretched various football fields. The exterior was extravagant and he was calculating the price of your marbled columns before you opened the door. "Johnny, a pleasure to have you," you smiled as you let him into the foyer. He took a minute to look at the not one but two staircases you had leading to the upper floor. Furthermore, the interior looked like a smaller version of Versailles. He thought he knew luxury when he saw Price's flat but that was a shoe closet compared to this. "Are you alright?" you questioned, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You live here?" he asked and gasped at the way his voice echoed amongst the mansion. You laughed for a moment before looking back up at him. "Yes, I do," you replied as if it was a silly question, "it's quite nice." He turned back to you with a shocked face. "This is more than nice," he said, gesturing to your extravagant home, "I was not picturing this during the drive." You blushed a little at the realization that this wasn't the typical home he had been accustomed to. "Well do you want a house tour?" you offered and he immediately took the offer, "let's start with the first library." "There's multiple?"

gaz

Kyle looked at his watch as he wondered where you were. "The missus running late?" Price asked as he searched for his car keys. "Probably had a meeting or something," Kyle said, looking back down at his phone, "perks of dating a CEO I guess." Just as Price offered him a ride, a silver Rolls-Royce Spectre came revving in front of the two awe-struck men. "Sorry I'm late boys," you said as you got out, "hope Kyle stayed out of trouble long enough, John." "He's a good one, Y/N," Price replied as he gave you a quick hug. He smiled back at you before waving off and walking over to his own vehicle. "This a new company car?" Kyle asked as he examined the pristine exterior and the practically silent hum of the EV engine. You had a small smile on your face as he tapped the front of the car and looked into the windows. "It's new but definitely not company-issued," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Didn't think you needed a new car," he continued and the suspense was killing you. As you opened the car door and sat in the red leather passenger seat, Kyle looked at you dumbfounded. "You want me to drive?" he questioned as he moved the seat back into a comfortable position. "Of course, babes," you said, practically bursting with happiness, "you should drive your own car home." There was a brief moment of mixed screaming and excitement as he realized this was his. Once he was finished (and you stopped laughing), you turned on the seat warmers. "Go ahead," you smiled, "take us home in your new toy."

ghost

Simon was never one to gorge himself on the finer things in life. He would save 80% of his paycheck and spend the rest at the grocer's or off-license. He often would have to hold you back from ordering items for him or buying something at Armani on a whim. "Return it." you could hear Simon say behind you and you sheepishly closed your laptop as you knew you had been caught. "You need new jeans though," you tried to convince him but he shook his head. "I could get a pair of Wranglers for less than £47.50 on sale," he responded and that's how most conversations ended. However, you had spent your time finding him an expensive gift that you knew he would value. "What's this?" Simon asked as you pushed over a small parcel. "I know you don't celebrate your birthday but I got you something," you smiled before sitting down with him on the couch. He shook his head as he ripped open the packaging. Inside was a small box that depicted a pair of sturdy-looking earplugs. "For when you exercise or go on runs," you commented, "they're Beats Fit Pro." He opened up the box and you watched as he adjusted them into his ear. "You know I can just use those wired ones," he said before trying them out. You shook his head as he admired the noise-canceling quality. He was enjoying the gift no matter how much he said it was unnecessary. "Well if you don't like them I can always return them," you joked, reaching your hand across the couch to get them before he pulled it away, "yeah, that's what I thought."

[impish-baby]

re: both arms cradle you now

how would the family get to coddling and taking care of reader :0?

I assume via reader being forced to be around them and breaking down and regressing, but I'm very curious to hear what you have in mind :3

-🐇

You have the right idea!! Reader essentially can't handle all the stress and breaks down which ends up devolving into more of a tantrum when they regress since they don't know what to do with all the big emotions they're feeling

I won't put everyone's reaction here since I'll save those for the actual fic, but here's some miscellaneous members of the family taking care of reader :>

Aunts Tammie and Lisa (Avery's moms)

"Here, how abouts a slice of pie, sugar?" The older women is already cutting it up, getting a bite ready on an airplane shaped spoon. "Your memaw made it, so you know it'll be good!" She hums, holding the spoon up before doing a winding motion to your mouth. "Vroooom...yummy, huh?" Tammie coos as you eat, getting another bite before you've even finished the first.

"You'll give them a stomach ache." Lisa remarks dryly for across the room, messing around with a stack of papers. "All that sugar at once isn't good."

"Oh, hush up.." Tammie scoffs, rolling her eyes. "What's the best thing when you're sad? Sweets! Leave the little darling alone, if their tummy hurts later, we'll deal with it."

"Uh huh," your other aunt pushes her glasses up to the top of her head as she walks over to the table, setting a few pieces of paper gently down next to you. They're Christmas activies, from coloring pages to connect the dots. "How about we work on these a little, hun? It's not too late to write a letter to Santa either, maybe he can squeeze in a few extra presents by tomorrow."

Oliver (reader's younger half-brother)

You weren't expecting anyone to come find you, at least not for a while, but a little head pokes through the doorway followed by an excited gasp.

"Hi!" The kid practically dives when he runs over to kneel in front of your curled up form, a bear stuffie clutched in one hand. "Momma said to leave you alone cause you're really upset, but.. but I wanted to try to help a little!"

His smile doesn't falter as you sniffle, holding the plush out to you expectantly. "They're my favorite, but you can hold them! Promise they'll make you feel better."

When you gingerly take the item from him, he looks like you just gave him the world. "Yeah, good job!" Oliver can't seem to sit still, hopping back up onto his feet immediately. "Do you want to watch a movie? You get to pick cause you're crying!"