#you know i remember when i did write this my heart was beating out of my chest yikes..i had it bad back then.

[eclipixels]

Our past?

Sylus x Reader

Content: After discovering your past life with Sylus and his promise to restore your memories, you find yourself eager to hear the stories of your past from him.

Warnings: : slight angst if you squint your eyes

[2,118 words]

A/N: Sylus’s myth has been weighing on my mind, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Forbidden love?? Like?? Ugh. I had to write something to make it hurt less :’).

      After discovering the truth about your past life, a storm of emotions had raged within you. Anger, betrayal, disbelief. How could Sylus have kept something so monumental from you? How could he have known and simply chosen not to tell you? The argument that followed had been fierce, but in the end, he relented, promising to restore your lost memories tomorrow morning. Now, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a quiet restlessness you couldn't shake.

      “Won’t you at least come to bed, darling?” Sylus murmured, his voice softer than usual, his sharp eyes now wide and pleading. You exhaled, exasperated yet unable to deny him. With a tired sigh, you crawled over, settling on top of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you.

      "Sylus?"

      "Hm?"

      "Tell me about our past," you whispered. He had promised to return your memories tomorrow, but waiting felt unbearable. The unknown loomed too heavily over you, making it impossible to sleep.

      He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Impatient, aren’t you? Can’t even wait until tomorrow?"

      "You’re one to talk about being greedy," you huffed, shifting slightly against him.

      “I know,” he admitted, the grin that spread across his lips filled with something more than amusement, something nostalgic, as if the weight of the past he had once tried to forget was now something he wanted to remember.

      He studied you for a moment before continuing, “Did you know you were a princess, princess?” His smirk widened at his own joke, reveling in the play on words.

      You rolled your eyes, but your curiosity overpowered your exasperation. "A princess?"

      "Ivory City," he said, watching for recognition in your gaze. "They accused you of being a sorcerror because you took pity and sympathy on my kind, so they cast you out."

      "How primitive," you muttered, unimpressed by the cruelty of a kingdom you barely remembered.

      "Indeed," he agreed, his tone laced with a quiet sort of amusement. "They feared what they couldn't understand."

      A brief silence stretched between you before he added, “You also gave me my name, but I already told you that.”

      You sighed, tilting your head slightly. "You still haven’t taught me how to pronounce your actual name." It was something you had discovered earlier, before the argument, before the flood of fragmented memories revealed pieces of his dragon life with you in Philos.

      Sylus hummed, clearly unbothered by the notion. “It’s irrelevant,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles against your back. “I like your version of my name better. Your claim on me.” His grin returned, sharper now, something possessive glinting behind his eyes. A name you gave him that he’s used ever since. Your lips parted slightly, heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. You had claimed him once before, long ago, in another life. And now, in this one, you were beginning to do it all over again.

      Sylus smirked, his voice dropping into something teasing. “Did you also know that once, back when we still held nothing but disdain for each other, I wrapped my hand around your throat, and you—” He let out a short laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You moaned.”

      You jolted upright, eyes wide. “I did what?!” you shrieked, horrified.

      His laughter only deepened, rich and unbothered. “It was certainly… unique,” he mused, tilting his head as if replaying the memory in his mind. “I’ve threatened plenty of people before, but never had anyone react quite like that.”

      Heat flared across your face as you groaned, burying yourself against his chest in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

      “No, you don’t,” he chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss against the top of your head.

      A moment of silence passed, the air between you settling into something softer, something steeped in nostalgia. “Most nights,” Sylus murmured, “we spent our time together under the moonlight.”

      You closed your eyes, letting his voice guide you through the fragments of a past you desperately wished to reclaim. “I can’t wait to get my memories back,” you hummed. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you all over again.”

      His fingers curled gently around your waist, holding you close. “There were times,” he continued, voice quieter now, “when you would see my true form, and I expected you to be afraid. I thought you’d run, that you’d look at me like I was a monster.” He paused, as if caught in the memory. “But you didn’t. Instead, you traced your much smaller hand over my scales and horns. You—” He swallowed. “You still loved me.”

      “How couldn’t I?” you whispered, pressing closer.

      Sylus exhaled, the tension in his body unraveling. “Back then, I didn’t know what love was,” he admitted. “You introduced me to that.”

      You lifted your head slightly, gazing up at him. “Really?”

      His lips curled into something almost reverent, something achingly fond. “Really.

      “That’s beautiful,” you murmured, voice soft with drowsiness.

      Sylus smiled faintly, fingers tracing idle patterns against your waist and thighs. “My favorite memory might be when I took you to that flower field,” he mused, pausing expectantly for your response.

      But you said nothing. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to glance down at you.

“Kitten, are you asleep?” he asked after a long stretch of silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. A quiet snore escaped you. You weren’t asleep, but he didn’t have to know that.

      His chest rose and fell with a slow inhale before he continued anyway, his voice dipping into something raw.

      “The reason why…” he started, then hesitated. For once, the words didn’t come so easily. “The reason why I withheld these memories and this information from you was because I knew it would break you.”

      A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating.

      “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that we have half of our souls in each other.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. That much, you had already discovered. The truth that the two of you were irreversibly connected, bound by something ancient and inescapable.

      His next words came quieter, almost as if he didn’t want to admit them out loud. “But I just… I couldn’t let you know that we were destined for death.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “It was greedy of me. I wanted you all to myself, even if it meant keeping the truth from you. But the curse of a dragon’s beloved is to die. And you—” His voice wavered, the weight of his confession nearly unbearable. “You were destined to kill me, as my archenemy.”

      His breath hitched, and he let his eyes fall shut. “I didn’t want you to know that,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But I realized… it’s not just my story. It’s yours too. And you deserve to know.”

      The words hung in the air between you, fragile and aching. His throat worked as he tried to steady himself, but his voice still cracked, betraying the turmoil he had tried so hard to suppress. Still, you didn’t move, didn’t respond. But your fingers twitched ever so slightly against his chest.

      You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the warm tears spilled onto Sylus’s chest. They fell silently, one after another, pooling against his skin like echoes of a grief you weren’t prepared to feel.

      “Sweetheart?” Sylus called out, his voice laced with concern. His arms tightened slightly around you. “Are you alright?”

      “It hurts,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile. “Why was our story so sad?”

      He exhaled, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “I don’t know, my love,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

      A shuddering breath left you as you stared at the space between you, the past pressing in on your chest like an unbearable weight. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

      Sylus stilled for a moment before letting out a small, knowing sigh. He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing away the tears clinging to your lashes. “Sweetie, that’s all in the past for a reason,” he murmured. “None of that destiny, archnemesis, dragons-destroying-cities, royalty-and-war bullshit matters here.” He smirked slightly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe the part about our souls being tied for eternity, but I’m not complaining about that part.”

      You sniffled, staring up at him with a wobbly frown.

      “Oh, and wanderers,” he added, scowling. “That part I do complain about.”

      You huffed a small laugh despite yourself, but your expression quickly turned serious again. “You didn’t answer my question, though,” you said, eyes searching his. “Did I hurt you?”

      Sylus hesitated. “Well…”

      “Stop it. Just tell me.”

      A sigh, followed by a lopsided, almost sheepish grin. “Maybe you stabbed me.”

      Your mouth fell open. “Maybe?”

      “But it wasn’t entirely on purpose,” he continued hastily. “Not out of your own volition. In fact, you didn’t want to kill me at all. That’s why you chose to tie our souls together instead.” He pulled your leg up to wrap around him tighter. “You chose to save me instead of killing me. Our souls became bound, incapable of betraying each other.”

      “Incapable of betraying each other?” you echoed, brows furrowing before your expression morphed into something accusatory. “Oh, really? Then what about that time you ate my sandwich I was saving for later?”

      Sylus blinked. “Uh—”

      “Actually, no. You didn’t even eat it yourself,” you fumed. “You gave it to Mephisto. A mechanical bird. I don’t even know if he can digest organic material!”

      “So feisty,” Sylus murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Lifetimes of love, and yet, you’re still a brat.”

      “Hey!” You gasped, feigning offense, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

      He only chuckled, shaking his head. Then, his expression turned mischievous as he pointed a finger at you accusingly. “But, you do realize—I can never die unless you’re the one who kills me.”

      You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh, I was so smart for doing that.”

      Sylus let out a full-bodied laugh, the sound warm and rich with something inexplicably fond.

      “What?” You tilted your head, watching the way his grin widened.

      “Isn’t it crazy?” he said, voice quieter now, as if he was still wrapping his mind around it himself. “Lifetimes of love… You’ve always been my girl.”

      Something about the way he said it made your chest ache in the most bittersweet way. This love of yours, it felt like it was something you’re not allowed to have. You swallowed hard, voice softening. “I still can’t believe you’re a dragon.”

      “What?” He snorted. “You thought the horns were just for decoration?”

      You groaned sleepily. “In my defense, you don’t always make them visible.”

      Sylus smirked. “Would you like me to keep them out more often, then? Just for you?”

      “Sylus.” You whimpered, burying your face against him.

      His amusement faded as concern flickered across his features. “You’re still upset?”

      “I don’t want to kill you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

      Sylus exhaled, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines against your back. “Love,” he murmured, “like I said, you won’t. This is our timeline.”

      “But I want you in every timeline,” you confessed, curling closer, as if holding onto him tighter could somehow tether your souls together even more. “Every life.”

      Sylus stilled. His fingers stopped their tracing. His breath hitched just slightly. Then, with a heavy sigh, he picked up your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. His lips were warm, his touch reverent.

      “I…” He hesitated.

      Sylus never made promises lightly. He didn’t want to promise you something he couldn’t keep. But then, he thought about it. About how he had already overturned fate before. How he and you both had defied instinct, rewritten the path carved for each other. Yet, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t just want your soul. You didn’t just want his eye. You were both greedy, greedy creatures. You wanted to consume each other, bones and all. In love. In deep, all-consuming love.

      And maybe he could make that happen.

      He would need a powerful enough sorcerer. Someone who still wielded magic strong enough to rewrite the very laws of existence. He could find one. He would find one. He would make sure it was just you and him, forever. Not killing each other. Not dying. That would make you immortal, too.

      He could have you forever.

      Now, wasn’t that greedy?

      “I promise,” he finally whispered, sealing his vow with another kiss against your palm, not noticing the soft glow that wrapped itself around you both as you involuntarily resonated.

[volturiprincess]

Girlfriend

Demetri Volturi x fem reader

Summary: Demetri just being his sweet self Warnings: Slight mentions of people being pigs, but other than that just Fluff A/N: Another one!!!! This one just flowed out of me, I'm pretty sure it took me like 5 hours to write. I did not intend to finish it today but all well, Im just keeping everyone feed😅. The song inspiration for this was "Girlfriend" by Big Bang. Enjoy💙 Word Count: 921

_____________________⭐️

How can you be so pretty? Will you believe me if I tell you I've got more butterflies than the first time I met you

A breath of fresh air I felt as he came into my view, the air felt crispier as I inhaled and exhaled. My eyes never left him as he moved away from me. Where is my air going? Did I say something wrong? Maybe I did say something wrong but I could have sworn I saw a small smile trying to break through his serious face. My mouth spoke before I could even think, I called him pretty. Just that simple six letter word, and  that word made him walk away from me. Maybe I embarrassed him, he mentioned nobody gives him too many compliments, only stares. I probably just caught him off guard then. Yes that's it, maybe I should do it more often. 

I thought it was adorable how he looked at me with a hint of confusion at that word but when he did turn away I caught that smile. It was so adorable, if it were possible for him, I know he would have blushed. I bet he would look lovely with a hint of pink or red on his sharp cheekbones, it would probably suit him perfectly. 

I doubt he would be the one blushing, he always makes me flustered when he compliments me, it's like a second tongue for him, his own language that only he knows how to talk. I wish I knew how to talk like him but he has told me he finds it adorable when I say random things or how blunt I can be with my words.

When I'm tired and wasted. When I sometimes stumble. Girl, you always pick me up. Just like now, by my side

When he found me, I was at my lowest in life, I couldn't even look in the mirror without wanting to break it. Everything in life had no meaning to me, I would just walk life on autopilot not really living life as one should. The sun could be shining so bright, or the day would be so beautiful and I would feel like a heavy cloud would be over me, soaking me in rain. I just felt cold all the time, no amount of sweaters would help lessen the cold. But when I accidentally bumped into him, I felt that cloud be bumped away from me also. He was the warmth and air I needed to be…human again. 

When he looked down at me with the most sincere look of worry as he reached for my hand, I felt my heart beating faster. As my hand touched his cold one, I felt that shot of electricity run through my whole body. It felt like I was having one of those over dramatic sights of a first love moment you see on TV. Me and him were the main characters in some Kdrama, I was for sure seeing the spotlight on us at that moment and I could hear the music.

Yeah, my girlfriend, my girlfriend. She ain't no side chick, mistress, girlfriend. My girlfriend, my girlfriend. 'Cause ain't nothing in the world compare to my girlfriend

When I would bring him along to my work events, everyone had their eyes on him. But his eyes never left me, I was his girlfriend because we can’t say we are mates and saying we were married would bring up too many questions for our liking. And at the time we were together for a couple of months so far. People at work were questioning our relationship. How can the most perfect man to ever exist be with someone…like me. It was hard to ignore them talking, it was even at a point where they didn't even try to be hush hush about it. 

I remembered at another work event he was with some of my male coworkers talking and I heard their conversation.

“So, Demetri was it? How did you end up with a girl like y/n?”

“Was it a bet?”

“Only want her for her body?”

“Nah man she doesn't have anything to put out unless she’s hiding something under her clothes”

He didn't let them continue because his next words shut them up for the rest of the night. “You poor excuse of men are so blind, when I look at her I can see the masterpiece she is, she’s so exquisite in every aspect, you would never be able to meet a women like her”

By then he was at my side guiding us out of the building and off to a nearby lookout point. The whole city can be seen from up here and it was perfect but we only had eyes for each other. The whole world was blurred as I looked into his green contacts, I wish he could take them out so I can look at his red ones. He flashed me his pearly whites while I had one of the stupidest lopsided smiles, some adult I was right now. I was acting like a schoolgirl looking at her new crush of the month. 

I never had someone who would have my back, Demetri had more than my back, he definitely was holding my heart in his hands and he was not letting anything harm it. 

Since meeting you, I feel like I've become a fool. I can't stop smiling. It makes me feel good just to think about you

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ BLUEY & BREAKFAST 🧸ྀི — husband girl dad doyo:( soft morning:( ( wc 1455 )

[ extras ] reader is breastfeeding but nothing crazy (although doyo has a ‘a man is a man’ moment IJBOL)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! i had to take a small break from my event and write this bc girl dad doyo wouldn’t leave my mind and yall need to know it too! besides posting this for @yudaies !!! hopefully it’ll cheer you up babes <3

@kstrucknet ♡

you gradually grew awake, remains of sleep fading away. not brave enough to open your eyes yet, you reach out to grab doyoung’s hand in the seek of more warmth. 

but you don’t meet his hand nor… him. your hand stumbled upon something soft, tender; a peach fuzz alike feeling underneath your fingertips. you frowned and traced the texture, smooth and soft. 

you opened your eyes and lying next to you, on doyoung’s spot, was your daughter. 

you grinned sleepily. she was six months old so your husband probably carried her here. it warmed your heart to see that he also put a blanket over her (and you). probably on his way out to work, too.

she recently started teething so last night was full of crying, from both sides. doyoung was asleep since he had to leave early. 

you traced miyoung’s rosy cheek and then rubbed your eye. you would love to get more sleep. actually, maybe you could… 

a soft babble cut in just in time. miyoung’s big brown eyes opened slowly and started making small sounds. 

“matching our sleep schedules now, are we?” you whispered amused. your daughter stared at you, waving her hands “let’s get up, hm?” 

you stretched, allowing the duvet to fall from your body. then, you grabbed miyoung in your arms and while rocking her gently, you went to wash your teeth first and then to the kitchen. 

just when you were about to come out of the corridor to enter the room, you heard a noise. 

your heart skipped a beat in your chest, halting your movements and listening in. there were faint clanking noises coming from the kitchen. 

but you’re home alone…? 

you leaned out of the wall to peek and let out a sigh upon noticing a similar silhouette. not to say that you weren’t surprised, though. 

“am i doing it wrong? why isn’t it… growing…” 

you smiled and walked in, quietly observing the situation unfolding in front of you. miyoung was toying with the material of your shirt quietly. 

“no, something is definitely not right” 

he was watching something on the pan, leaning on his left hand and tapping the counter in deep thought. 

“i added more milk!” 

doyoung slightly turned yet didn’t see you. he was focused on kyungmi who was sitting on the counter and toying with the milk bottle. you saw him break into a huge smile, hands going to caress your older daughter’s cheeks.

“i like milk” she hummed and looked up at him with a grin. her eyes shifted away and widened upon seeing you “yikes, mommy’s up!” 

doyoung whipped his head around, gaze softening.

“yikes…?” you repeated amused, finally coming to approach them. 

“i think having sakuya and ryo over the other day was a bad idea” doyoung admitted and giggled. you noticed that he’s still in his pyjamas with hair disheveled. it was 10am, he should be at work… “morning, baby” doyoung whispered and shortly after you felt his soft lips brush against yours. the taste of coffee lingered on them and you sighed dreamily. 

miyoung babbled and yanked the hem of doyoung’s shirt, making his nose bump into yours. you giggled into the kiss, and so did he. 

“we are making breakfast!” kyungmi, your lovely 5 year old, cheered. doyoung gasped and turned around, suddenly remembering about the pancakes on the pan. 

“big mi decided to add extra milk though so…” he chuckled and flipped them “no wonder they were so runny and took so long”

“run?” she asked, chuckling. you leaned and pressed a kiss onto her forehead “pancakes run?” 

you just smiled and sat down, caressing miyoung’s dark hair. she’ll probably be hungry soon too, especially after a whole night of crying. 

“how come you’re not at work?” you asked, staring at your husband’s back. a sight so simple, yet heartwarming. 

“i felt bad whenever you kept waking up to get little mi. so just when i was about to leave and this rascal started crying again, i just… i knew you’d be tired. didn’t want to dump it all on you” doyoung said softly. you caught kyungmi chuckling at the word ‘dump’ and you just scoffed. “i called in and said my girls are sick. also, like, come on. i’m thirty, been in the company longer than some of the youngsters have been alive. they get it” 

“thank you” you hummed, a warm feeling spilling all over your heart. whether it was gratitude or simple love, you weren’t sure. 

you chatted while doyoung finished making the rest of the pancakes. with the help of kyungmi  served beautifully decorated breakfast. strawberries and other fruits, whipped cream, even some nutella to pick from. the steaming food made you salivate, not to mention the luring smell of coffee. your stomach growled suddenly, kyungmi laughing. 

“mom!” 

you just shook your head and heard a small whine from your youngest. 

“you’re hungry too, huh?” you asked softly and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. doyoung sent you a worried look. you shook your head and shot him a reassuring smile “don’t worry. eat. you worked hard” 

“mom, can i put some strawberries for you?” big mi asked with sparkles of joy in her brown, doe eyes. 

“of course, sweetheart” you grinned and adjusted your position so you could breastfeed miyoung. 

“dad, can you help me with this?” she asked and tugged doyoung’s sleeve. he shuffled her hair and grabbed whipped cream. 

he gently followed kyungmi’s instructions and drew something. when he was done, she mumbled a focused ‘thank you’ and started putting some strawberries on your pancake. 

you decided to snack on one, stealing it from doyoung’s plate. he just rolled his eyes dramatically, diving back into his food. 

“ta-da!” she hummed and turned the plate to you. it was, you assumed, a smiley face. proud kyungmi puffed her chest out and expectedly mirrored your reaction. 

“it’s so cute! thank you, baby” you blew her a kiss “i’ll eat it in a second” 

“mkay. can i go watch bluey?” she asked, a small pout on her lips. you were rather hesitant to start her day with screen time but… 

“go. we’ll join you in a moment, once little mi’s tummy is full too” doyoung smiled and booped kyungmi’s nose. she ran off with her plate, chuckling “don’t make a mess!”

“i won’t!” 

soon enough the sound of the cartoon sounded from the living room. you just send doyoung a confused look. 

he changed his seats to sit next to you, grabbing your plate. your husband took a picture of it and then started to chop off a small bite for you. 

“here comes airplane” doyoung teased and made a swirling motion with the fork. you laughed, the motion drawing a displeased groan from miyoung.

“you’re unbelievable” was all you could murmur before opening your mouth. doyoung put a hand under the fork, in case something would fall.

(not like it happened before, surely. once during dinner an olive fell on miyoung’s head. she was as confused as you, with doyoung and kyungmi almost falling out of their chairs from laughter). 

you hummed happily, the taste delicious on your tongue. doyoung continued to feed you, taking a bite once or twice as well. 

miyoung was satisfied and leaned away, babbling. you caught your husband’s eyes trailing off and you just covered yourself, smacking his arm. 

“sorry. can’t help it when every part of my wife’s body is beautiful” he grinned sheepishly and leaned in to seal his words with a passionate kiss. 

of course you had your doubts after birth. both with kyungmi and miyoung. but your husband was more supportive than ever, reassuring you at any given chance. it got to a point where you just started laughing at his dramatic praise but he literally had a serious look in his eye each time. 

his knee pressing slightly against you, his lips on yours and tongues dancing together… for a moment you let yourself get lost in the moment. 

dizzying pleasure made you sigh softly, tilting your head a bit. that’s when doyoung suddenly stood up, scooping miyoung out of your arms. 

you looked at him, flabbergasted (and a little bit disappointed). 

“i know i’m charming but let me take care of her. do you want to nap?” he asked. 

“doyo” you sighed, serious. he frowned, rocking his daughter gently “be for real right now”

“what? aren’t you sleepy after a sleepless night?” he asked, genuinely surprised. you stood up, flicking his forehead. 

“you kiss me like that and expect me to get sleepy? you’re lucky i love you” you giggled and he just sent you a boyish smile. “i’m fine. let’s go watch bluey”

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 5198

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

Ø9

"I don't have time to deal with your bullshit Jayden just leave me alone,"

"I told you no nigga can deal with a girl like yourself,"

"So delusional thinking that nigga Jey will love you he'll just leave you like I did so come back to me,"

"You belong to me and you know it,"

OMNISCIENT Desiree was busy at her second job in the tattoo shop, bringing her unique designs to life on her client. Since relocating to Atlanta with Jey, she has poured her heart into her tattoo artistry. Despite receiving unsettling messages from Jayden about some bizarre issues, she remains resolute, choosing to concentrate on the positive aspects of her life and work.

As she wrapped up her work with a client, she noticed a car arriving at the job site. It was Jey, coming to visit her. Glancing at her phone, she saw it was her lunch break, but she was determined to complete her client's tattoo first. And that’s exactly what she focused on.

As he opened the door, the bell chimed, revealing his stunning girlfriend, who was putting the finishing touches on a tattoo. He had brought lunch for both of them, a thoughtful gesture to brighten their day. He approached the receptionist and mentioned he was there for Desiree. With a nod, she directed him to the back, where the lunchroom awaited.

Desiree completed the tattoo, adding a few final touches before revealing it to her client. As they looked in the mirror, their faces lit up with joy.

"This tattoo design is sick honestly I appreciate you," The man said as Desiree began putting the saniderm bandage around his tattoo.

"Remember to let your tattoo heal for four days and then wash it okay?" Desiree instructed as the man nodded his head giving her a good tip.

She added the tip money to the jar she had created when she began her job here. Just then, Kaylee approached her and said, "Girl, you're an amazing tattoo artist! Why aren't you working here full time?"

"Well imma be traveling a lot with my boyfriend so I won't be here for a minute until he gets days off to be here at home," Kaylee nodded her head understanding her situation.

"Is he good to you if not imma beat his ass," Desiree chuckled at Kaylee as her eyes averted towards Jey's direction who was scrolling through his phone waiting for her to come. "Kaylee I assure you he's a good man,"

Kaylee raised her hands in a protective gesture, nodding her head as she allowed Desiree to approach her man, who stood there waiting patiently. He could hear her footsteps approaching, having noticed her making her way toward him and positioning herself between his legs.

He set his phone aside on the table, taking a moment to admire her beauty. In a playful move, he scooped her up, eliciting a delightful giggle from her just before he settled her onto his lap.

"Hey, daddy's little angel. Took you long enough," Jey said as Desiree rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, since I'm going to be traveling with Mr Fatu for a while I might as well make some money," she responded.

Jey chuckled at her response, "Mamas, you know I gotchu covered you don't gotta do allat," Desiree understood that he intended to pamper her and shower her with gifts, but she felt uneasy about him spending his money on her. What she truly desired was the independence that came with having her own finances, allowing her to take care of her own needs and expenses.

A little independence didn't hurt.

"Let me be independent Papa," she formed a pout on her face with her arms crossed.

"I'm letting you be independent baby, I'm just letting you know that I gotchu aight?" he said softly while placing a kiss on her knuckles.

Desiree beamed at him, feeling a warmth she had never known in her previous relationships. Jey's love for her was profound and unconditional, embracing her true self without any judgment. It was a refreshing experience, one that made her realize how deeply she was cherished.

She certainly has her imperfections, which she openly accepts, but he never judges her for them. In fact, he remains unfazed even when she misinterprets or overreacts to situations; he consistently finds a way to resolve any issues that arise.

Even if that means to dick her down he's happily to do so.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Desiree had just finished her lunch and was enjoying her break by scrolling through social media. She took the opportunity to share some of her recent designs on her story. As she was engaged in this, she suddenly heard Kaylee calling her name, which piqued her interest. She quickly rose from her chair and made her way to the front.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Jayden standing there, a smirk playing on his lips. Kaylee could feel the palpable tension in the air, prompting her to discreetly approach Desiree. With a can of pepper spray hidden in her hands, she quietly passed it to her, readying them both for whatever might unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing here Jayden? Don't you get tired of chasing me around?" Desiree said seeing him shake his head.

"Nah, I don't get tired babygirl. I just know you belong to me and you know it," he said as Desiree scoffed at his confidence.

"Last time I check you wasn't my nigga anymore," and she was right Jayden wasn't her nigga anymore ever since she left him for good that night after putting his hands on her.

Jayden uncrossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at her. She met his gaze, her face a mask of confusion. Did she stutter? What was it about her words that left him looking so astonished? "You being bold as fuck now I see, hm. It's because of that bitch ass nigga you with talking reckless to me,"

Desiree realized she couldn't afford to waste any more time on trivial conversations. Her lunch break was over, and she needed to return to work, especially after he had monopolized her time with meaningless chatter.

As she was about to pass him, he seized her arm, and she shot him a warning glance, silently urging him to release her.

Why does her past keep coming back?

"Let me go, I don't have to deal with your bullshit today.  Just leave me alone," Desiree exclaimed while attempting to pull her arm free from his grasp, but her efforts only resulted in him tightening his hold, making her wince in pain.

"You're so delusional you know? Just delusional thinking that nigga Jey will love you he'll just leave you just like I did so come back to me," This man was utterly delusional to believe she would endure everything he put her through. Kaylee stood by, observing the entire scene unfold, feeling uncertain about how to respond.

"He does love me unlike you," Jayden cupped her face, forcing her to meet his gaze, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as he noticed the fear reflected in her eyes. "You listen to me and you listen to me good bitch I want you to call it quits with that lame ass nigga or else imma have to kill him you hear me?"

Desiree found herself torn. She was beginning to fall for Jey, especially after he invited her to join him on his travels, offering an escape from her current troubles. However, the thought of Jayden's unpredictable and dangerous nature left her feeling uncertain about what path to take.

"Do you fucking hear me Desi?" Jayden held her face firmly, prompting her to slowly nod in response.

He stepped back with a satisfied grin as Kaylee approached, gently taking her away from him.

"Once you do that come holla at me, but until then you better do what I just said cuz no nigga can deal with a girl like yourself but I'll see you then baby," Desiree broke down in tears and fell to her knees as soon as he exited the shop, with Kaylee by her side, offering her comfort.

 She despised this situation; it was driving her to the brink of madness. How could she ever explain to Jey that she needed to end their relationship for his own safety?

Why was he returning to torment her once more? All she desired was to move forward and rediscover her happiness, yet deep down, she had a feeling this would occur.

Kaylee patted her on her back comforting her as she began to say something, "you aren't going to break up with Jey right? Don't listen to him Desiree," she said as Desiree looks at her with her eyes being puffy.

"I-I don't know what to do Kaylee, Josh has been nothing but a good man something rare that no other woman like myself can't find ever again...I'm lost..." Desiree said while feeling more tears coming down her face.

"You need to talk to him as soon as you get off of work okay? He deserves to know," Kaylee was correct; Jey had a right to the truth. However, given Desiree's nature, revealing that truth was bound to be a challenge for her.

Desiree returned home from work to find Jey lounging on the couch, a blunt he had rolled resting between his fingers. His eyes, low and red, lit up with a smile as they met hers. Rising from the couch, he approached her, wrapping his arm around her waist and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He was taken aback by her lack of response, as she typically reacted to his kisses with enthusiasm. Her energy felt different this time, especially as she brushed past him with a subtle shove and headed into the kitchen.

This wasn't her at all.

He took a few puffs from the blunt before setting it down on the tray and heading into the kitchen to check on Desiree, curious about the attitude she was displaying.

As she took a sip of her drink, her gaze fell on Jey approaching her, and she couldn't help but admit he looked irresistibly alluring in his high state. His red, heavy-lidded eyes ignited a spark within her, but she questioned how long she could maintain her composure under his intense stare.

As she attempted to step away from him, he cornered her against the counter, locking his gaze onto hers while she deliberately averted her eyes.

"What's goin' on with you mama?" Jey questioned her.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Just tired from work that's all," she said lying through her damn teeth.

Jey wasn't buying this whole act knowing that something was wrong with her he just wanted her to spill it out before he had to fuck it out of her.

"Nah, I'm not believing that shit Desiree what happened?" Desiree sighed in exasperation, shoving him aside as she strode past, clearly unwilling to engage with the situation.

He seized her by the throat just before she could ascend the stairs, drawing her nearer to him. His dark eyes locked onto hers, revealing a mix of anger and desire. Though frustration simmered within him, the haze of his high blurred the lines between rage and lust, especially since they hadn’t been together since lunch.

She could feel his stiff member brushing up against him smelling that intoxicating scent of his that drew her in more for him, "Desiree imma ask yo' ass one last time and if yo' ass don't answer me imma fuck it out of you; you understand me?" He whispered in her ear as she nodded her head sighing.

"What happened?"

"We have to break up," she blurted out seeing his eyes widen but also confused. "Hollon the fuck you mean by that Desiree? Don't fucking play with me," Desiree knew that this was how he was going to react if she told him.

"Like I said we need to break up," Jey let go of her as they stood there in silence she had seen him rubbing his hands over his face this was only for his safety.

"Nah, you pranking me Desi. This gotta be some type of joke are you deadass right now?" Desiree shook her head she was serious about breaking up with him but she didn't want to though.

He appeared to shatter into pieces the moment she made her announcement, yet he was determined to conceal that vulnerability. Without uttering another word, he brushed past her, snatching his keys in silence.

He forcefully closed the door behind him, leaving Desiree isolated, tears streaming down her face as the weight of her mistakes crashed over her. Overwhelmed and unsure of her next move, she took a deep breath and, with trembling fingers, reached for her phone to call Bianca.

OTP Desi🫶🏽: B? Binky💗: Desi what's wrong did something happen? Desi🫶🏽: I fucked up B, like really bad he's gone Binky💗: wait a minute Desi slow down what happened what you mean he gone? Desi🫶🏽: I-I broke up with Jey Binky💗: WHAT? WHY? DESI WHAT HAPPENED Desi🫶🏽: Jayden came up to my job threatening to harm him if I didn't break up with him I was scared B I-I didn't know what to do... Binky💗: Desi....you could've just talked to him instead of saying allat so what after you told him that where did he go? Desi🫶🏽: I-I don't know...he just grabbed his keys and left Binky💗: Desiree you're letting Jayden take control over you Desi🫶🏽: ik it was stupid...but I was scared...Bianca... Binky💗: I understand that but you should've told him from the jump as soon as you came home Desi that man loves you to death he's getting you out your shell that you've been holding on since forever and now you gotta fix the problem D Desi🫶🏽: I'm so dumb for letting Jayden take control over me... Binky💗: hang up the phone and call Jey to see where he's at okay? He probably didn't go far. Desi🫶🏽: okay... Binky💗: just text me aight? Love you Desi🫶🏽: love you too

CALLED ENDED

Upon finishing her conversation with Bianca, she quickly called Jey, pressing the phone to her ear as the ringing echoed in the room. She paced anxiously around the kitchen, her heart racing with hope that he would answer, and to her relief, he did.

OTP Desiree🦋: Joshua? Joshua💵: what you want Desiree? Desiree🦋: where are you? Joshua💵: I'm over at Trin and Jon's house why? Desiree🦋: can you come home please let me explain... Joshua💵: now you want me to come home after saying you want to break up with me? Desiree🦋: please I'm begging...I didn't mean it... Joshua💵: if you didn't mean it then why did it come out from yo' lips then? Desiree🦋: can I explain it to you in person please Joshua... Joshua💵: aight I'll be there in a few minutes Desiree🦋: okay... Joshua💵: aight

CALLED ENDED

Desiree anxiously ran her fingers through her hair, wishing he would return home rather than spending time with Trin and Jon. She longed for the chance to explain herself.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Desiree lay on the couch, anxiously awaiting Jey's return. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, and with each passing moment, her hope dwindled. It felt as if she had lost the one person who loved her more deeply than anyone else ever could. Tears streamed down her face, leaving her eyes puffy and swollen. Finally, she mustered the strength to rise from the couch and began to turn off the lights in the living room, a silent acknowledgment of her heartache.

As she prepared to set down his ashtray, the booming music from outside caught her attention, announcing Jey's arrival. She longed to feel the thrill of his return, yet a wave of anxiety and fear washed over her, leaving her in a state of uncertainty.

She saw her phone light up seeing a message from him popping up in her screen.

Joshua💵 sent a message

Joshua💵: c'mere and put a jacket on it's kinda cold out here

She picked up her jacket from the couch and stepped outside, noticing his black Chevy parked in the driveway. As she approached the passenger door, he opened it for her, and she caught a whiff of the distinct scent of weed wafting from inside the car.

As she slid into the car, she caught sight of him lighting up another blunt and setting it down in the ashtray. After shutting the door, Desiree nervously played with her fingers, a detail Jey noticed but chose not to comment on.

Desiree noticed him unfastening his seat belt as he pressed the button on the side of his seat, lowering it slightly and inviting her to join him on his lap.

She gracefully made her way to him, settling onto his lap as his hand rested gently on her hips.

"So what's up? What was all of that about?"

She avoided looking at him, "I-I was scared..." she said trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Scared of what Desiree? You think I was going to cheat on you?" Jey asked as Desiree shook her head leaving him to sigh deeply out of irritation. "Then what? You ain't explaining anything to me Desiree," she could hear the irritation in his voice which gave her flashbacks of when Jayden use to be like this it was making her heart race.

The sudden silence caught him off guard; she had been the one pleading for his return to share her side, yet now she offered no words at all.

"Desiree, we can end this conversation now and go our separate way," No that's not what she wanted at all she was truly happy with Jey like really happy with him she could feel herself getting emotional but tried to hold it together.

"N-no...I want you to stay...Josh..." Desiree spoke gently, her emotions slipping away like sand through her fingers, as a tear made its way down her cheek, clearly visible to anyone who looked.

She was making a grave mistake by allowing Jayden to manipulate her like this; she was on the verge of losing the love of her life because of him. The moment Jey heard her quietly sobbing, he realized that something was seriously amiss.

He sat upright holding her waist pulling her closer to him as their foreheads touched each other hearing her soft voice trembling, "I-I didn't m-mean it...I-I was fucking s-scared...of what he could do..." more tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"I'm so fucking stupid to let him have this control over me...I don't wanna lose you Joshua..."

She broke down in tears crying onto his chest as he strokes her hair, "Desiree, calm down. Look at me," she gazed up into his eyes as he looked inside of her puffy ones. "What happened?"

Desiree then revealed the troubling events that unfolded at work during his absence. She shared that Jayden had issued a chilling threat, claiming he would kill her if she didn’t end their relationship. This was the reason for her erratic behavior when she entered the house.

"Desiree, you know I can whoop his ass until he's bleeding right? I don't care if he has a gun or not he's still a bitch in my eyes," Jey said. "But you still could've told me when you walked into the house instead of acting out like that especially when I'm high as hell and see yo' pretty ass face coming in just made me horny,"

Desiree sniffed her nose before Jey could wipe her tears away from her face, "Just tell me next time aight? You know imma protect you fuck what he's talking about, he isn't goin to take me away from you or you away from me you hear me?" Desiree tilted her head, her gaze fixed on his deep, crimson eyes.

Jey ignited the blunt and brought it to his lips, savoring a few puffs before exhaling upward to avoid blowing smoke in Desiree's face. With each subtle shift, she could feel his body pressing against hers, heightening the tension between them.

The glow of the lighter illuminated his face, and as he held a blunt between his lips, she couldn't help but be drawn in. The enticing aroma of weed wafted through the car, wrapping around her senses and already beginning to take hold of her.

His hand slithered down from her hips to her butt giving it a squeeze causing her to clench her pussy every single time she felt an electric shock coming down her pussy, he placed the blunt down in his ash tray and started planting kisses on her chest to her neck.

Desiree threw her head back in pleasure letting him do whatever he wanted to her that's when she felt him sucking on her neck while unzipping her hoodie to take it off admire her c cup breast.

He massaged her breast with both of his hands before pulling down her straps to her shirt letting her breast pop out, Jey swirled his tongue around her nipples causing her to jolt at the feeling.

Jey was taking his time with Desiree he wasn't in no rush to fuck her brains out he wanted her to be extra wet for him while he gave her his deep slow, strokes.

Soaking wet at that which she probably was at this moment.

Jey sucked on her nipples pulling them back as they could hear a "pop" coming out from his lips before sliding down his sweats along with his PSD boxers, his long, meaty, dick hit Desiree in her butt.

He had given her hickies all over her breast and neck area he let her sit up for a second to pull down her shorts leaving her in her panties, Jey could feel how soaking wet she was for him and only him.

He had pulled her panties to the side as he began to align himself into her entrance Desiree immediately sank down on it letting out a slight gasp escape her lips.

Desiree moved her hips up and down as she rode Jey while holding onto his shoulders for moral support his hands were on her ass cheeks guiding her movements as she moaned his name softly, he pressed his lips on hers as they began kissing passionately feeling their tongues fighting for dominance.

All of her wetness was coated up on his dick nicely while her pussy gripped him well like a sucking machine, bouncing up and down on him with his dick buried deep inside of her.

He tugged onto her bottom lip pulling it back before going back into the kiss he gave her ass a smack causing her to whine as she began to roll her hips around his cock.

They pulled away from each other as Desiree looked into his eyes he looked so sexy being high off of weed just made her even more wetter.

"Hmm, this pussy so wet for me mama. I'll die for this pussy any day baby," Jey grunted while gripping onto both of her ass cheeks thrusting his hips forward in a fast but steady manner.

Desiree dig her nails into his shoulders which caused him to hiss but he didn't mind it at all he was to busy fucking her.

"T-too m-much..." she whimpered softly.

"Too much baby? You gon' take this dick like a good girl  for me," His strokes became faster and deeper as Desiree wrapped her arms around his neck holding him tightly.

He was balls deep inside of her gushy cunt fucking her senselessly when all they could hear was their skins slapping up against each other in the car.

"D-daddyyy," hearing her moaning out his name was music to his ears planting nothing but tender kisses on her cheek and shoulders.

Whispering vulgar words into her ear.

Her pussy kept gripping onto him feeling herself clenching around him hiding her face in his neck but he wasn't having that he wanted to see how good he was fucking her.

He yanked her hair back causing her to yelp at the sensation looking into his eyes yet again never breaking contact seeing a smirk appeared on his face, "that's right lemme' see how good I'm fucking you baby," he growled as he watched her eyes roll in the back of her head.

She didn't even respond knowing that his dick was making her go dumb and couldn't even form any words  or symbols at that, he latched his lips onto her breast yet again swirling his tongue around the nipple

The car windows were fogging up due to the air thickening around them feeling the car shake due to his rough pounding that he was giving her.

"Daddy, oh my godd. I'm finna cummm," Desiree whined as she felt a knot forming around in her stomach.

"You finna nut on daddy huh? Make a mess on me mamas gimme' that shit," He demanded taking her to the oblivion.

Her lips parted open as his thrust became more intense beating her pussy in while Desiree was trying to hold out but couldn't.

She let go as her orgasm left her in complete shock coating up his dick with all of her milky cream letting out a cry as he watched her do it, sounds of her sticky substance could be heard throughout his thrust.

Desiree felt defeated as Jey let go of her hair letting her head fall onto his chest while he continued to chase his high thrusting in and out of her now sensitive cunt.

She was whimpering softly in his ear begging him to slow down due to her having an intense orgasm just seconds ago but he didn't listen to her pummeling her inner walls out.

Her mind was foggy and distorted while his dick chew her the fuck out Desiree knew that she was never going to leave this man especially if that means his life is on the line that didn't matter to him, she only matters to him.

His strokes became sloppier and sloppier giving her each and every stroke that he was giving her while biting the bottom of his lip.

He was losing himself in her almost drowning at the point as he felt his dick twitch inside of her signaling that he was about to empty his nut all in her.

"You love me baby?" He breathed out, "huh? You love daddy?" He moaned out as she enough strength to throw her ass in circles helping him chase his nut.

"Yess, Daddy. I fucking love you...ouuu I love you so much..." she cried out attempting to match his movements.

The head of his dick was gliding through her cervix so well it was having Desiree in a daze, his dick began twitching again. "Ohh I'm about to nut, lemme' empty all of my nut inside of you princess,"

She slammed down in his one last time as she felt his warm seeds filling her inner walls up hearing him leave out a guttural moan escape his lips while she slowly moved her hips up and down on his shaft causing him to jolt a bit due to the tip of his dick being sensitive.

They stayed in this position for a moment to catch their breath gazing lazily through each other's eyes as Jey placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Jey circled around her, gently calming her trembling form with soft, lingering kisses on her neck before he finally spoke.

"You need to let me know when things like this happen mama," Jey said softly.

"I know I should've talk to you instead of acting like that, I'm sorry I was just scared," she said.

"It's all good mama, you know I'm here to be there for you, love on you and give you the reassurance that you need," what he said made her heart flutter into butterflies.

She nodded her head placing a soft kiss on his lips as she chuckled at her cuteness.

"C'mon let's head in the house and take a shower together,"

As they enjoyed a cozy moment post-shower, Desiree and Jey nestled together in bed, with her comfortably resting on his chest while they watched a movie. Just then, Desiree's phone began to ring, and she noticed Jey reaching out to grab it for her.

As she glanced at the caller ID, her expression went blank upon seeing Jayden's name appear. She believed she had blocked him, but instead of answering, she switched off her phone. However, when it rang again, worry began to creep in for Jey.

"Who's calling you mama?" Jey asked.

Desiree noticed the shift in Jey's facial expressions as she held out her phone. With a bold move, he snatched it from her hand to answer the call. She couldn't help but admire his confidence. Sitting up, she focused on him as he engaged in conversation with Jayden.

She was listening into their conversation.

OTP Jayden🖕🏽: did you do what I asked you to do? Joshua💵: Hell nah she didn't Jayden🖕🏽: the fuck? Where the fuck is Desiree Joshua💵: she's sleeping right now why are you blowing up her phone for ? Jayden🖕🏽: nigga fuck you ion gotta explain shit to yo' goofy ass Joshua💵: goofy? Mane the only one who's acting goofy over here is yo' stupid ass messing with my girl Jayden🖕🏽: yo' girl? She was mine before you even came in the picture Joshua💵: at least she with someone who cares about her unlike yo' ass tryna break us up and shi Jayden🖕🏽: apparently you wanna be dead then Joshua💵: you funny as fuck fr thinking I'm scared of that damn gun you got only makes you a bitch in my eyes and she not leaving me Jayden🖕🏽: she is because she's mine been mine forever just because she left don't mean shi Joshua💵: you must be a dumbass huh? Lemme remind yo stupid ass Desiree belong to me she's my girl and I'm the one who been piping her down unlike you so yo' ass might wanna trend lightly. Jayden🖕🏽: yk what fuck you when I catch you slipping I will kill you right on the spot. Joshua💵: mmcht yeah we will see about that

CALLED ENDED

Desiree listened as his footsteps approached from the hallway. He entered the room, handed her the phone, and then climbed into bed beside her.

She could sense his energy was off, clearly irritated by her ex-boyfriend. To ease the tension, she climbed onto his lap, straddling him as his gaze shifted away. Gently, she began to place soft kisses on his neck, hoping to calm his frayed nerves.

His hands rested on her hips, slipping inside her shorts to grasp both of her curves firmly. She cupped his face with her delicate hands, pressing her lips against his in a series of soft kisses, while he looked up at her with his half-closed eyes, holding her in a captivating gaze.

"What'chu doing mamas?" He inquired gently, his voice resonating with a deep, piercing quality.

"You seemed irritated baby, I'm just trying to soothing your nerves, that's all." She said earning a smile from him.

He pressed his lips against hers again, gently pushing her back onto the bed as he intertwined their fingers together.

"You so good to me baby, really good to me,"

"I know I am only for you though,"

Jey laughed softly at her words, and they lost themselves in a fervent kiss that lasted throughout the night. Desiree felt a deep certainty that Jey was the one for her. This time, she refused to let her thoughts spiral into negativity as they had in the past; she felt secure and cherished in his presence.

He's the one for me

He loves me for who I am doesn't even judge me

He'll protect me from anything and anyone

NOVACANE

A/n: Jayden better trend lightly when it comes to Jey because he don't play about Desiree his baby girl.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[velvet-apricots]

A series of Codexs i wrote about my Rook. Taken from this post.

Note found in Rook’s pocket

A note of poetry with deep creases indicating its been folded and unfolded many times. The lettering is written in a neat, loopy cursive in emerald green ink

Eyes of spring beheld by my eyes of winter

Hair of autumn betwixt my weathered fingers

Lips like berries and all for me to devour

My clever bird, my darling Rook

May your hands forever more hold my heart

For as long as it remains beating

E.V

An entry from Rook’s journal

I dreamed about Weisshaupt the other night. All those Wardens we couldn’t help. Davrin said there were a thousand of them. Now there are only a quarter of that. Solas said it was a victory. I don’t know what to think.

Varric said it helps to say or write out what did go right so-

I got to punch the First Warden in the face

An Archdemon is dead. 

Davrin is alive. 

Ghilan’nain is mortal. 

That's four good things. I am particularly glad that Davrin is alright. 

Solas also said that I may have to sacrifice someone to win. I said that I was ready… But I am not. I refuse to let that happen. No one in my team will die. Call it childish, but I won’t be like him. I am already on the right track, given Davrin somehow got out not dead. No idea why, but Bellara says it probably has to do with Ghilan’nain being out of the fade and back in the real world. Something about the soul and stuff.

I don’t remember. I’m not smart like her.

Rook's Shopping List

A list written in a messy scrawl that drifts downward across the page.

Lucanis, please buy these for me. I have to go somewhere with Bellara. No time to get it myself. I left some money to pay for it.

Lipstick. Cherry red. (For me. Last pot was dropped into blighted water. Davrin said I should throw it away.)

Pistachios. Roasted and salted (for me to snack on)

Chocolate (also for me. I need it)

Honey (to make honey roasted almonds as we have way to many of them now)

Beans (for Emmrich. He can't just eat yams and fruit)

Several sacks of Flour (also for Emmrich. Needed for Seitan)

Jam, preferably cherry or apple (for Harding, wants me to try her ham and jam slams again with “proper jam”. Pray for me.)

Spicy Peppers (For Taash to add to their food)

A message between two companions about Rook

A series of messages written in Davrin and Neve’s handwriting.

Should we be worried about Rook? She keeps talking about Varric like he’s still around. - Davrin

What do you mean by “like he’s still around”? - Neve

I mean she’s saying stuff like “I am going to go talk to Varric” then she goes and talks at his stuff like he's actually there. But he's not. He’s dead. Doesn’t that bother you? - Davrin

I have seen people react to loss in similar ways in my work. They talk to the person they lost like there are there. To help them sort their thoughts. It’s a form of coping with grief. I am sure Emmrich would be able to explain it better than I can. - Neve

And watch him fuss over her like a mother hen at dinner? Not a chance. - Davrin

Letter from Rook to their love interest

Emmrich,

Amatus. That's all I want to call you. It's all I chant in my head (along with your name). I feel like a little girl gushing over a boy who shoved mud in her face (not that you ever would).

I can’t write poetry but I can tell you that I want to call you Amatus. Do you know what that means? It means beloved. That is what you are to me.

When we next meet in private. I want you to leave with my name chanting in your head too. Not Rook. But my real name. I think you will like my name. It’s a flower, and you like flowers. 

- The letter is signed with a lipstick mark.

A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend

A letter lost in the chaos of Elgar’nan’s attack on Minrathous. Stained with blood and blight, sealed with the wax seal of Legatus Charon Mercar

My Sweet Rabbit,

Never apologize. You did what you had to.

I will be waiting for you in Ventus. Do not die. You are not allowed to. Not until I see you again.

Love, 

Papa

A note/letter that Rook never sent

An unsent, unfinished letter. Crumpled up and left near the fireplace.

Dear Hawke,

I hope this letter finds you well. You do not know me, but I knew Varric, and you through him. I am Rook, and I traveled with him to stop Solas. I knew him for only six months, but I considered him a wonderful friend and a great mentor.

I send you this letter to tell you that 

I regret to inform you 

I am grieved to say 

Harding probably already told you that

He meant a lot to me

 I have his belongings still and 

The remainder of the letter carries on the same way until there is no more room to write.

[lotus-sunn]

.

Something..strange happened

Just one small look into his eyes and they seemed so mellow as he checked in on me if I was alright.

That annoyingly soft and slightly monotoned voice that had always kept my dreams sweet.

Was I alright? Sure. But once we parted.. I felt my heart beat out of my chest once we walked our separate ways

what was that.

It was over it had been for a long time but for a small moment, I thought that I had just felt for a single moment that same connection again.

That small thread that was long broken. The same thread that had done its time and finally gave through.

weren't we over?

Why do I still cling to him? I thought I was done. I was the one to say we were done. I know that I took time to move on and finally be free.

I thought I did.

But...my heart and that irresistible feeling he always had given me before came back.

I started to notice the glances he gave me every time he was near me. He would always be quick to retreat his gaze. But I noticed that every time I'd acknowledge it..

Instead of a quick turn away from his face, he would at times give me that fond smile that had once made me melt into him. Seeing those warm eyes that seemed too good to be true looked right at me.

I just wanted to put my arms around him and listen to his soft mumbles about how he was growing frustrated with a new Ruibix puzzle he had just got and how much he hated his new haircut

And oh how nostalgic it was. That handsome and warm soft smile of his.

having those eyes get all soft just by my mere smile and wave

we talked for a bit and god his skin looked so soft staring at those freckles I used to kiss and mutter soft I love you's. I wanted to link our arms as we shared laughter and smiles.

Oh to feel his warmth and see that smile on his face as I cupped his cheek only to be pulled into a kiss.

I noticed he grew a bit of a beard yet he still looked..so him, so playful and kind. The same guy that stole my heart so long ago.

And that's odd isn't it?

I'm the one who said it's over yet I'm the one who..somehow got these feelings back. Maybe they never left.

Aren't I such a hypocrite?

the more I started to acknowledge him the more these feelings grew.

I think I'm in love again.

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ �� ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

[starlitscars]

Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state. 

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life. 

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too  stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him. 

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now. 

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for. 

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva. 

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you. 

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt. 

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubled thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer. 

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.  

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road. 

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap. 

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth. 

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share. 

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..." 

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you. 

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world. 

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time. 

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that. 

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more. 

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "Is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly. 

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons. 

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sense it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn-out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings. 

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He thinks that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

[littlelamy]

could you do one where rafe and reader have known each other since they were kids. where they played pretend marriage and rafe has always believed it was real even when they were kids and some girl tries to come between that but it doesn’t happen.

love your writing

a/n: thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it! 💗🤍

rafe cameron had always been a part of your life. from the time you were toddlers, running through your backyard with imaginary crowns on your heads, to the moment you both said your pretend vows underneath that old oak tree. you were six, maybe seven, and it had been all fun and games—at least for you. rafe, on the other hand, took the "marriage" very seriously, even as kids. "you're my wife now," he’d say with a grin, tugging you along whenever someone tried to play with you. you always brushed it off as rafe just being rafe.

but now, as you stood at another one of toppers' parties, you noticed something had shifted. maybe it was the way rafe had been more possessive lately, a hand always at your waist, or the way he’d glare at any guy who got too close. then there was jessica—new girl, pretty, and definitely interested in rafe.

“so, are you and rafe, like, together?” she asked you casually one day at school, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. there was something smug in her tone that made your skin crawl.

“we’re just friends,” you said, even though the words felt wrong coming out of your mouth. were you really just friends?

"oh, that’s good to know," jessica had smirked, and you knew she had plans.

tonight, you watched from the corner of the room as she slid up to rafe, placing a hand on his arm and laughing a little too loud at something he said. your stomach twisted, but you told yourself it didn’t matter. you and rafe were just friends—childhood friends with a long history of playing pretend, but that was it. still, your feet started moving before you could stop them, weaving through the crowd toward them.

“hey, rafe,” you called out, slipping into the space between him and jessica like it was the most natural thing in the world. his eyes lit up when he saw you, that same boyish smile he’d always had whenever you were near.

“there you are,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like it belonged there. and maybe it did.

jessica’s expression faltered for just a second before she plastered on another smile. “oh, hey. i was just telling rafe we should go out sometime. get to know each other better.”

before you could even process her words, rafe chuckled. “yeah, i’m gonna have to pass on that.”

jessica blinked, clearly thrown off. “what? why?”

rafe’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. “i’m already married,” he said, his tone light but firm.

you froze, heart pounding. "rafe—"

"we got married when we were seven," he added with a grin, not giving you a chance to finish. "i’ve been off the market since then."

jessica laughed awkwardly, clearly not getting the joke. “wait, you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, pulling you closer. “dead serious.”

it took everything in you not to laugh at the confused look on jessica’s face, but the truth was, you didn’t know if rafe was actually joking. he looked so calm, so sure of himself, like this was the most natural thing in the world. like he really did believe you were his wife, even now.

“uh, okay. whatever,” jessica muttered, clearly flustered as she backed away, shooting you a look before disappearing into the crowd.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at rafe. “what was that?”

he raised an eyebrow. “what was what?”

“you just told her we were married!”

rafe grinned down at you, his blue eyes sparkling. “because we are. or did you forget?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “rafe, we were kids. that doesn’t count.”

“it counts to me,” he said, his voice softening. “you promised, remember? you said you’d always be mine.”

your heart skipped a beat. “we were pretending.”

“maybe you were,” he shrugged. “but i wasn’t.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to say. all these years, you thought it was just a silly childhood game, something you both would laugh about when you got older. but rafe... he had never stopped believing it.

“rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer so that his forehead nearly touched yours.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “and i’m yours. it’s always been that way.”

suddenly, the party seemed to fade away, the sounds of people laughing and music blaring becoming a distant hum. all you could focus on was rafe—his words, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

and maybe you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[martinsace]

SHE A GOOD GIRL, FOR ME SHE A…

‣‣‣ pairing: uconn paige bueckers x fem! journalist oc

‣‣‣ warnings: cheating (on oc’s lame bf), sexual content with little plot, cursing and sexual language, religious guilt, minors dni

‣‣‣ summary: in front of cameras and her very, very straight boyfriend, lacey is the perfect girl next door type. but when she’s alone with paige? that’s a different story.

‣‣‣ author speaks: this is my first time writing smut eek i hope it lives up to your hopes and dreams

————————————————————————————

“paige, how does it feel to have beat the number one team in the nation?” i ask the blonde in front of me.

paige bueckers’ eyes are piercing into me with an intensity that makes me knees weak, a coy smile playing at her lips. she does those stupid fucking rizz hands and i swear i feel my heart drop down to my ass.

“it feels great. i definitely had some extra motivation today, so i still feel pretty fired up.” she smiles innocently, pretending what she just said has absolutely nothing to do with the person who was holding the microphone to her face in front of a camera projecting to the gamecast. this bitch.

i fight back every urge in my body trying to get me to smile and keep a straight face. “that’s awesome, should we be expecting more of this energy in the future?” loaded question, but that’s my job. screw this, with the way she’s looking at me i wish i could take off this media badge now.

she shrugged her shoulders. “hopefully.” oh my god.

“that’s all we have time for, thanks so much paige.”

she jogs away, not before subtly winking. i swear to god im going to kill her. after i fuck her.

paige had a great game, leading the game in both points in assists and filling out the stat sheet all around. not only did they beat south carolina, but she got a career high with 36 points.

needless to say, she was motivated.

3 hours before the game

“fuck, paige, don’t fucking stop-”

lacey cut herself off with a moan as her acrylics dug into paige’s shoulders. she rocked her hips feverishly against the blondes fingers, grinding her hips down into her lap over and over again. paige curled into her, watching the brunette borderline ride her fingers with an open mouthed smile as her tits bounced in paige’s face.

truth be told, the reason lacey had come over was to pick up her hoodie. it was an innocent visit, but they never ended up that way. not with paige. she was intoxicating.

“i know ma, i got you. here, lay back”

paige tenderly moved the girl from her lap and laid her so her back was on the bed and her head on a pillow so her whole body was on display. paige positioned herself between her legs and threw one over her shoulder, sliding two of her fingers back in sloppily. lacey let out another moan, arching her back off the bed. paige’s name ripped through her throat and fell from her lips like a prayer, though she wasn’t sure what she was praying for.

she had always been the most christian, by the book straight girl you could conjure in your imagination. until she met paige, drunk at her first frat party. she caught the basketball players attention, and the affair began. lacey almost didn’t even remember it the next day. yet then she did, and she couldn’t forget it. she couldn’t forget paige. she could hardly remember her boyfriend at this point.

paige’s fingers fit inside her like lacey was made as a mold for the blonde. she plunged in and out of her messily, but with ease and grace. lacey was gripping the sheets, ministrations and guttural moans spilling from her lips without a second thought. paige just had that effect on her.

“fuck— fuck p, i’m close, you’re so fucking good, baby—“

paige put a hand on her stomach, pressing down with every thrust into her. “yeah? i’m good? you close ma?” every word fueled her confidence, drinking in the praise like an elixir. her thumb came up to press circles onto the brunettes clit, forcing another moan out of her. “shit, yes, fuck yes you’re so good—“ she was cut off by a loud moan as paige used the hand on her stomach to circle under her hips and prop her hips up.

“FUCK, aw shit paige fuck, i’m gonna fucking cum-“

paige leaned over, peppering hot kisses to the thigh of the leg that was thrown over her shoulder and muttering against it, “i got you baby. cum for me ma, make a mess on my hand, you got that.”

it was like that flipped a switch, that was all she needed. her orgasm practically ripped through her body, leaving her limp. paige kept fucking her through it, huskily praising her. when lacey’s breathing became heavy and her leg began to get limp, she slowed her pace and pulled her fingers out. she let the brunettes leg down and pulled her arm out from under her and, after examining her fingers for a moment, looked at the fucked out girl under her. “open your mouth.”

without a second thought, she did. she would do anything paige said, and she didn’t even know why. she shouldn’t even know paige. but here she was, about to suck cum off her fingers.

she took paige’s fingers into her mouth slowly, making eye contact with paige’s ocean blue eyes as she swirled her tongue around the digits and released them with a pop. “aw shit” paige muttered. she reexamined her fingers and, once satisfied, grabbed her shirt from the end of the bed and pulled it over her head. she gave lacey her discarded clothes as well before laying down next to her, beginning to doomscroll on instagram.

they laid like that for a short while, both looking at their respective phones before lacey spoke. “anthony’s probably coming to the game tonight.”

this piqued paige’s interest. she looked at lacey almost curiously, somewhat skeptically, still holding her phone. “your boyfriend anthony?”

“yeah. that one.”

paige didn’t really know what to make of this. she knew lacey had a boyfriend. she didn’t really care. she didn’t ever plan on meeting him, so she wasn’t sure why lacey was bringing him to one of the most defining games in her career.

“you’re bringing him?” she asked, testing the waters.

lacey scrunched up her nose at the sheer thought of 2 and a half hours with her boyfriend. “god, no. he’s going with his frat brothers or whatever.”

this relaxed paige. it wasn’t like they were together, or that she wanted to be, but she didn’t really want to meet the boyfriend of the girl she’s fucking.

but it definitely made her want to put on a show.

tags: @dennyluvsblog @averyisnotpresent

[writingsbytee]

GET BACK

TOXIC BABY DADDY TERRY x BLACK FEM READER

Photo: @partiallyfuctional7

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minors please don’t interact!*

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: Reader has feelings of insecurities; Terry is a big, sexy, toxic, idiot here. 

PAIRING: Terry x Ava (reader)

SUMMARY: Tension develops between you and your baby’s father when he discovers you might be moving on. Terry’s unhinged ass is going to do whatever he can to get her back.

TROPES:  Second chance romance; MDOM or dominant themes

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I’m so excited to share this one with you guys! I’ve wanted to write toxic Terry for forever, but I was just nervous. I really liked writing this one. Maybe it’s the toxicity in me lol. Please tell me what you guys think, but be nice please. Babygirl is sensitive

“TJ get your cleats! Your father’s almost here!,” I shouted up the stairs. I hear the tell-tale thumps of his little feet as he rushes to put everything in his duffle bag. Wandering into the living room, I tighten up the area a bit. Straightening out couch cushions, the coffee table, you get the gist. Looking at the clock, I notice it’s almost two o’clock.

“TJ! Two minute warning!” I exclaim. Within seconds I hear the thunderous steps only a child can make. Then my little boy rounds the corner, a giant beam on his face. 

“Did it Mommy!”, he said proudly handing his soccer bag to me so I could double check everything. Rifling through the items I notice his epipen isn’t in there. Before I can ask my little man where it is, I hear the familiar chime from the ‘ring’ app on my phone. Grabbing it from the charger, I see my son’s father through the pixelated lens. I take a calming breath before walking to the door. 

“Hey baby girl, TJ ready?” Terry asked, smiling down at me. It’s truly unfair how fine this man is. Standing at his full height on our porch in a navy blue tee and olive cargo pants with asics. He could make a trash bag look good. I ignore the flutter in my belly at his smile and step aside to let him in. 

“He’s just about ready, but I can’t find his epipen. Can you come in while I run upstairs really quick?” I ask moving back so Terry can cross the threshold. He steps in like he owns the place (well technically he does).

“We gotta get going soon, I’m taking TJ to ‘Winter Wonderland’ after practice,”  Terry said, sweeping his eyes over the living room. 

I nodded, “Well I’ll find it and meet you guys there or at practice. Thanks for taking him,” I say, trying to be civil. 

“Just to let you know, Brandy’s going to be there,” Terry said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I feel my back molars grind, “That’s fine.” I can’t fucking stand Brandy. She’s Terry’s new situationship and we didn’t get off on the best foot. That sour taste has never really left my mouth when it comes to her. Why Terry’s bringing her around our son, I’ll never understand.

“I trust you’ll keep it civil,” Terry says, looking down his nose at me. I roll my eyes and head toward the stairs completely ignoring him. Who the fuck does he think he is telling me to behave? She better fucking behave, I’m liable to beat a bitch. When I reach the bottom of the stairs Terry grabs my hand, spinning me to face him.

“Ava, I’m serious, keep it cool,” Terry’s voice had a slight edge to it which I didn’t appreciate.

“Listen, as long as she plays nice I’ll play nice. Matter of fact I’ll pretend she’s not even there. That work for you Terry?” I asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. I never wanted us to end up in this tumultuous cycle, but it wasn’t my decision. Terry broke up with me, said he didn’t want to be tied down. Vowing to be a good father he gets Terrence Junior (TJ) every other week. He’s the best dad and I won’t take that away from him, I just thought we’d be a family. I was holding out hope for a year hoping he'd change his mind and we’d get back together. 

Ultimately, I shattered my own heart, scrolling on facebook. I saw that he’d been tagged  in a photo hugged up on another woman. I stopped hoping after that. I stopped trying to get a man to see that I was enough, stopped trying to get him to stay when he so clearly was happy elsewhere. 

“Terry, the last thing I want to do is fight with you right now, yes I’ll be nice. Please just take TJ and leave, he'll be late for practice,” I say on the verge of tears. 

Terry’s eyes soften as he takes a step toward me, “Bunny…”, he starts. I hold my hand up stopping him and shake my head. I can hear our son make his way towards us obviously hearing his father’s voice as he barrels toward him. 

“Daddy! Daddy!,” TJ yells, launching himself into his arms.

“There my little striker! C’mere man,” Terry’s face blooms into a megawatt smile as he reaches for our son. He picks him up and blows a raspberry on TJ’s cheeks, causing him to burst into giggles. A small smile forms on my lips as a warm feeling spreads in my chest. Moments like these made me wish that we could be a little family again. But I can’t think like that anymore, Terry made his choice. He wants to be in the streets, that’s where he can stay. 

“You ready to go little man? I’ve got a surprise for you after practice,” Terry said, putting TJ down. Spotting the epipen on the kitchen island, I grab it, and pass it to Terry

“Well I’m going upstairs to shower and change, and I’ll meet you guys there,” I say, turning toward the stairs.

“TJ, go hug your mama before we leave,” Terry says looking at me.  TJ comes barreling towards me, goofy smile and arms outstretched. A warm smile blooms on my face as I hug my gentle little man.

“Hey, mama loves you, be good and listen to your dad ok?” I ask straightening his backpack. 

“I always listen mama,” TJ giggles, with a playful roll of his eyes. Terry grabs his son’s hand and with a half- assed ‘see ya later’ from Terry, they’re both out the door. I grab my airpods and head upstairs. Needing the comfort of a dominant mafia boss, my current audible obsession to ease some of the tension I feel creeping up my neck. Pressing play on my audiobook I begin getting ready. After the grueling arm workout of trying to tame my curls, I place it in a slick back bun with a few face framing curls to enhance my beauty (ref). Then I put on some light makeup and a simple outfit for this bipolar Georgia winter weather (ref). Grabbing my purse and keys, I head outside to my bronco, mentally preparing myself for the next few hours. 

When I pull up to the soccer field, I see that practice is in full swing. I immediately spot Terry standing off to the side with all the other parents. Why does he have to look so fucking good just standing on the sidelines. Brandy’s standing next to him ear pressed against her phone, what a shocker. Getting out, I pop my trunk to grab my lawn chair.

“Ava! Let me!,” I turn to see Lance, another one of the dad’s lightly jogging toward me. A small smile forms on my lips. Lance is fine don’t get me wrong, he just gets around the bookclub if you know what I’m saying. Hmm, maybe my bookshelf could use a good dusting off. I think it’s about time I had a little fun. I haven’t been with anyone since Terry, that needs to change. 

“Aww, that’s nice of you. Thank you Lance,” I say in a sickeningly sweet voice. Lance grabs my lawn chair out of the trunk and we head toward the soccer field. 

“I assumed you weren’t coming, since Terry brought TJ,” Lance said.

“Oh, so you checking for me now?”, I say, smirking at him. 

A small blush forms on the apples of his cheeks, “I look forward to seeing you at practices, sue me.”

A small giggle burst from my lips, “I’m just picking Lance.” He grins at me as we finally make it to the sidelines where the other parents are. My eyes find Terry to see him mugging Lance down. Lance isn’t paying him any attention as he sets up my lawn chair for me. 

“A throne fit for a queen,” Lance says, gesturing toward the chair. 

“Thank you Lance,” I say with a small smile before taking a seat. Okay so far so good, I just hope I can get through the rest of this evening unscathed.

TERRY

Since when did Ava and Lance become cool? That motherfucker has been sniffing behind her for over a year now. I subtly inch closer to the two, trying to listen in on their conversation without being detected. I hear him ask her what she had planned later. A pit forms in the bottom of my stomach dropping anchor and forming an uncomfortable weight there. I recognize the feeling in an instant, jealousy. Fuck. 

“Oh, Terry and his girlfriend are taking TJ to ‘Winter Wonderland’ downtown. I’m probably just going to tagalong with them so I can get pictures of TJ,” Ava says. Girlfriend? She thought Brandy was my girlfriend? Fuck no, I’m just having fun with her. I just didn’t want TJ to see the two of them arguing since they obviously didn’t like each other.

“Do you mind if Max (Lance’s son) and I join you? And maybe after I treat you and TJ to dinner?,”Lance said, smirking at Ava. My fucking Ava, and she’s smiling back?! Fuck nah, I ain’t about to have that. I take a step to interrupt their conversation when a hand on my shoulder grabs my attention. 

“Sorry boo, but I have to go. Family emergency,” Brandy said, before laying a kiss on my cheek and then she left so fast I would’ve thought her ass evaporated. I locked back in on Ava and Lance seeming to be in just a friendly conversation but I couldn’t shake the fact that Ava was entertaining him. As long as I’ve known her she’s only ever wanted me. So, to see her chatting it up with another man is really rubbing me the wrong way. 

She jumps up out of her chair, jumping up and down cheering for TJ. I damn near go cross-eyed trying to keep an eye on TJ and the jiggle of her ass when she jumps. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ava, she gave me my son, and she’s a fantastic mother, friend, and support system. I don’t know why seeing her potentially move on is fucking with me so bad. I pull out my phone and text my younger sister Trinity, I need advice ASAP.

ME: Trin I need your help. Fast

TRIN: Damn, no hi lol. What’s up Terry?

ME: It’s Ava, she’s going on a date tonight I think.

TRIN: Ok…what’s the problem?

ME: I don’t want her to.

TRIN: Aren’t you actively fucking that brittney chick??????

ME: ..yeah

TRIN: Ok so let me get this straight. Ava has to sit back while you fuck through all of Savannah, but the minute she gets a little bit of attention, you can’t deal?

ME: Well, when you put it like that..

TRIN:  I love you bro, but you’re a fucking idiot.

AVA

“We’d love to have dinner with you and Max tonight” you say, smiling at Lance. He smirks down at me, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I’ve been trying to get you to look my way for months, what changed?” Lance asked, leaning in. ‘I’m trying to get over my baby’s father’ , you thought. But you can’t just say that out loud so instead you just smile and say, “I thought it was time I put you out of your misery.”

Lance laughs and says, “Well thank you for that pretty lady.”

A throat clears behind you and you glance over your shoulder to see Terry standing there.

“Can I talk to you real quick?”, he looks with anxious eyes darting back and forth between you and Lance. 

You glance back toward Lance, “I’ll be right back” you say, getting up from my chair. You follow Terry a few feet away to the edge of the field, but still able to keep an eye on TJ.

“What’s up?” you say, raising a brow.

“We need to talk, Bunny,” Terry said, wringing his hands. What’s going on? This nigga is never nervous. You raise both eyebrows this time, indicating that he can continue.

“What’s going on with you and Lance?” he asked, crossing his arms. Your eyes widen in disbelief, there’s no way his ass is questioning you about who you’re seeing.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you reply, crossing my arms. 

Terry scoffs and rolls his eyes, “It’s my business if his ass is going to be around my son.”

You could feel the attitude crawling up your spine gripping your throat in a vice grip. “So you can prance all the bitches you want around our son? But when his friend’s dad; someone he’s familiar with, is around more often all of sudden it’s an issue?” you roll your eyes, Terry is really starting to piss you off. Just when you decide it’s time to try and move on he comes back with this.

“Terry what is this really about? You know Lance, you should be happy for me” you say pleading with him. His eyes soften, and he shuts them giving his head a rough shake.

“Happy? You can do way better than Lance!” he whispers.

A sarcastic laugh leaves your lips, “Mind your business Terry. I stay out of your love life, you stay out of mine.” you turn to leave but Terry reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“C’mon Bunny, you know I didn’t mean it like that. All I’m trying to say is he better kiss the ground you walk on, anything less is an insult.” 

You roll my eyes yet again, a small smile on my lips, “You’ll get him right if he doesn’t?” you ask with a subtle pop of my hip.

A smirk grows on his lips, “Bunny, you know how I’m coming behind you,” Terry said, crossing his arms. 

You shake your head to slow the smile from forming, “It’s nothing serious between Lance and I. I just need a little fun right now.”

“You know, we used to have fun,” Terry said, taking a step toward you. You could see it in his eyes. The way he was looking at you, he’s going to bend you over the first surface he can get his hands on. 

You reach your hand out, slowing his advancement toward you. “No, Terry. Don’t do this here.”

His smirk widens, taking in your panicked yet aroused features. You still wanted him , that he could see. “Don’t you miss me Bunny? We were good together. I could always tell what you needed before you knew yourself and vice versa.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Where is all this coming from? Less than two hours ago, you were telling me I needed to be nice to Brandy and now you wanna reminisce? We’ll talk about this later, I’m not doing this right now.” 

You couldn’t believe Terry!  ‘We used to have fun’, he thinks he can just walk in here all gorgeous and muscled and you’ll just roll over? Well you will but you want to make him work for it at least. You spin, prepared to return to your seat when Terry grabs your wrist. 

“Don’t go out with him tonight, Bunny. Let me treat you and our son to dinner instead, and I can explain everything.”

“What if I don’t want to hear your explanations Terry? I’ve waited and waited for you to finally come to the realization that we should be together. Now that I have the potential to find something with someone new, you can’t handle it. How do you think I felt watching you parade girl after girl in front of my face? If you’re serious about me, you and TJ becoming a family again, you’re going to have to prove it to us. The back and forth shit isn’t going to work, and TJ deserves stability,” crossing my arms, I finish my rant and turn to head back to my chair. 

TERRY

Fuck, I need to get my family back 

Okay, so I wanted to make this a little short and to the point So I can set you guys up for the next part. Let me know if Terry is toxic enough for y’all or should I crank it up a little. I wasn’t expecting to turn this into a series but I think I just might *winks* As always let me know what you guys think, if we’re feeling this or not. Happy new year beautiful people! Sending you all love I hope this year is better than your last and you get everything you want!

Happy New Year! Until next time

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @notapradagurl7 @helloncrocs-deactivated20241222 @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @gg-trini @playgurlxoxo

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart: Christmas

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Sunshine

"You looking forward to it?" Frido asks as she crouches down at your side in training. "Santa's coming soon. Have your mummies made you write your letter yet?"

You look up from your colouring book, pausing in the movement of dragging the pink crayon over the mermaid picture. "We did them with our teacher," You answer, nodding to yourself as you switch from pink to purple.

"Has it been sent yet?"

You frown. "Where is it meant to go?"

Frido laughs, fondly pushing your hair out of your face. "To the North Pole."

"Oh." You look down at your colouring book. "I've never sent a letter before. Santa always just knows what I want." You rub at your chest, where the Santa Heart from last year beats.

You hadn't needed to write him a fancy letter to send off to the North Pole. He had just known you needed a special new heart like how the doctors knew and how Ingrid and Mapi knew.

He just did and he'd delivered.

He'd gotten you the new heart that's been in your chest for nearly a whole year now.

You frown a little, trying to work your mind through the idea of sending a letter to Santa.

"Does everyone send a letter to him?"

"Oh, yes," Frido says, nodding her head as she hands you the orange crayon you'd pointed at," Everyone."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

"What did you ask him for?"

"I asked...I asked for my boyfriend to cook us some good food?"

You scrawl the orange crayon across the little crab at the corner of the mermaid page. "That's a good idea." You swap your crayon for green to colour in the seaweed. "And everyone has sent their letters already?"

"They have."

"Can I ask what other people asked for?"

"Sure, let's go."

Ingrid smiles from a distance as Frido leads you around the pitch while everyone takes a water break

She can't quite imagine what her and Mapi's life would have been without you now that it's coming up to a year since you had received your new heart.

She can't imagine what would have been different if she hadn't met you in that hospital bed. She can't quite imagine what the team would be like without you around either, a little breath of fresh air with an even smaller camera in your hands clicking away at every possible moment.

The same little hands that hold your favourite camera now tug at Ingrid's shorts until she looks down.

"What did you ask for in your Santa letter?" You ask.

"Huh? My Santa letter?"

"Yeah, Ingrid," Frido says pointedly," The Santa letter that everyone writes and sends off to Santa."

"Oh, yeah!" Ingrid catches on quickly," That Santa letter! Well...I asked Santa to make sure that me, you and your Mami have a good day on Christmas and get to sleep in before presents!"

You nod along with a little furrow in your brow, like you're trying to commit it to memory or something.

You grab onto Ingrid's legs quickly, squeezing them into a hug before hurrying off across the pitch to where Alexia is talking to Irene and Marta - no doubt to ask them the same question.

You don't ever really explain why you went around asking everyone what they wrote in their Santa letters and Ingrid's content to let her curiosity go unquenched with that one.

It's not an overwhelmingly pressing issue to her. It's one she only thinks briefly of when the team come over for a Christmas party before everyone goes home for the holidays.

You're sat at the little coffee table in front of the tv, enraptured by another kid's movie that Alexia's set Mija up next to you to watch.

Mapi sits next to Ingrid on the sofa, filling up her wine glass again when she thinks Ingrid isn't looking.

"Do we think we got her everything she asked for?" Mapi asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth," I don't want her to have anything missing from her pile."

"We've got everything," Ingrid assures her," Trust me. Absolutely everything she asked for, we've gotten her."

"Even that Barbie camera that prints off the photos? I don't remember wrapping it! Do you think they'll still have it in the store?" Mapi stands up suddenly, the words flooding out of her mouth so quickly that Ingrid nearly struggles to keep up. "I'll head out now and check. Don't wait up for me. I might be a while."

Ingrid pulls her back down. "My parents got it for her. It's in the pile."

"Definitely?" Mapi checks. "They confirmed it? They bought her the actual one she liked, yeah? Not like a knock off version?"

Ingrid laughs. "They got her the proper one. I checked."

Mapi finally breathes a sigh of relief at that, settling back down into her seat for a moment before slipping off the sofa to join you and Alexia's daughter on the floor with the movie.

"You know I love you right, sunshine?" She mumbles into your hair and you peer back to look at her.

"I know," You say," I love you and Mama too."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh! I'm glad Santa gave you to me."

"I'm glad Santa gave you to us too."

You turn then, fully into Mapi's lap as you look at her.

"I wrote a letter to Santa," You say," My teacher helped. Is it too late to send?"

Mapi shakes her head. "It's never too late to send. Why don't you go and get it and me and Mama will get ready to post it?"

The letter is written on a tiny scrap of paper when you return from your bedroom, holding it out in front of you as you wait for Mapi and Ingrid to prepare the envelope for it to go into.

You decorate it with little stickers and Ingrid helps you write Santa's address on it before bundling you up in your coat, hat and scarf to walk down to the post box on the street.

"Mama," You ask," Can you lift me please?"

Ingrid lifts you up easily in her arms so you're just tall enough to reach the post box to slip your letter inside.

"And Santa will get it before Christmas? I'm sorry I left it late," You ask as you're tucked into bed that night.

"You know," Mapi says as she pulls the covers all the way up to your chin," Every night before Christmas, Santa's elves go to all the post boxes in the world to check for his letters and they bring them all back that night!"

"Really?"

"Really," Ingrid agrees, gently locking the door to Starshine and Moonshine's cage," And Santa reads them with a mug of warm milk and cookies so he can prepare for Christmas."

"So he'll be able to make sure he can definitely do what I've asked for?"

Mapi smiles, crossing her fingers and hoping that what you've written in the letter is something that's already been bought for you. "What did you ask for?"

"For everyone else to get what they asked him for. I took it back to school and my teacher helped me write what everyone wanted so Santa doesn't forget."

"You're so sweet," Ingrid says.

"And Santa will make sure everyone gets what they wanted?"

"He will. I'm sure he's so grateful that you reminded him."

You nod, settling down in bed. "Good. No one should be sad on Christmas."

[deadsetobsessions]

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS

In Tucker's defense, he thought he was doing someone a favor. A life saving favor, in fact.

"What the fuck-!” The red helmeted guy yelped as a deceptively strong Tucker yanked him onto the bike and sped away. Before Tucker could explain, the GIW agents behind them got in a lucky shot and hit the helmeted liminal with a strong blast to the head.

Clearly, his gear wasn’t equipped with anti-ecto protections, because the guy slumped over on Tucker’s arms. This was bad, because Tucker now had to maneuver about 230 pounds of Gotham muscle while speeding away from government agents. He flicked on the jammer so they couldn’t track his and red helmets’s ecto signature.

“STOP!”

“Ah, shit.” Tucker cursed as he somehow managed to gather up red-helmet’s body and stabilize the bike. “C’mon, Tuck, you can do this.”

Blasts of anti-ecto tech slammed into buildings around him. Luckily, Gotham was used to this kind of shit so people just moved out of the way before going back to their day. Tucker wove around traffic, trying to lure the agents into slamming face first into some signposts.

“Stop damaging the local infrastructure!” Tucker yelled back at them, speeding up.

“WELL REIMBURSE THE PEOPLE AND THE CITY LATER! TELL US WHERE PHANTOM IS!!”

“Over my dead body, you jerks!” Tucker took a sharp right, catching red helmet before the man could slip off. He sped up and took the ramp downwards, heart beating loudly in his ears as he strained his senses to figure out- ah, they took the ramp upwards. Good. Now, all he has to do is bring red helmet back to home base.

“Oh my god. I kidnapped him,” Tucker groaned, slapping at his face before quickly placing his hands back on the handle bar once the bike teetered over with red helmet’s weight. “I’m a criminal. Oh my god.”

Then, as he found his way back, “…Well, it’s not like I wasn’t a criminal before, with the whole resisting arrest thing.”

——

Tucker dumped the red helmet liminal onto the couch of their shared apartment and went to take a shower. When he got out ten minutes later, he found Danny and Sam staring at the helmet guy. Tucker pushed up his glasses (after letting them defog from the shower) and greeted them.

“Hey, guys! I found him while I was running away from Agent L and J.”

“You okay?” Danny asked, eyes immediately flicking over Tucker for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m good. They’re horrible shots.”

“I thought Danny was the one who brought home strays but you…?” Sam commented, arms crossed and a purple painted nail tapping at her arm. “Wait. Isn’t this… that crime lord? What was his name?”

“Red Hood?” Danny offered, turning back to look at the guy on their couch.

Tucker paled. “Oh, no.”

Guns? Check.

Red Helmet? Check.

Bat-Symbol? Check.

Shit.

They collectively stared at the guy in silence.

“…Tucker,” Sam slowly said. “Did you accidentally kidnap a crime lord?”

“Hey, I didn’t want him to get killed! He’s liminal! Even more than us, except for Danny.” Tucker grumbled. “Man, this is why I leave the hero-ing to Danny. I do one good thing and suddenly I have a crime lord on my couch.”

“My couch,” Sam corrected, as she was the one that furnished their apartment.

“What do we do now?”

“Eat dinner,” Tucker said. “I’m famished.”

Sam nodded. “Wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn’t shoot us the moment he wakes up. Then, we explain.”

Danny grabbed all the visible guns he could see. Tucker went to start dinner. Sam supervised, because her boys were idiots and now she had a crime lord in her apartment.

——

Jason groaned, head swimming in a sea of dull throbbing pain as his eyes fluttered open.

Then he remembered he was abducted, and bolted up right. He paused as a series of quick observations made its way to his consciousness.

One. He’s not tied up. Weird, because everyone knows that he’s a weapon even without his weapons.

Two. His weapons were right there, just in reach.

Three. He was surrounded by teenagers and/or young adults who were all scrolling along on their phones.

“Oh, hey, he’s awake! Hi!” The Wayne bait said, electric blue eyes fixing itself on Jason. “Were you aware you died?”

Jason went rigid, hundreds of way to-

“Danny!” A scolding tone cut of Jason’s immediate panic. Two couch pillows slammed into Danny’s face, courtesy of goth girl and nerdy but strong.

“Dude, why do you start with that? Why are you like this?” His… possible kidnapper? asked, exasperatedly flinging his hands into the air as he rolled his eyes.

Goth girl scowled. “Boys. Crime lord, couch, remember?”

“Hey, in my defense, I died too!”

And that- as Jason remained dumbfounded in this circle of tomfoolery- was what snapped Jason out of his daze.

“You what?” He rasped out.

And when he saw them open their mouths at the same time, Jason just knew his headache was going worse.

——

Tucker, effortlessly plucking the actual red hood from the streets: and I whoop-

Jason, whose type is strong, nerdy, and tall: *heart eyes* *but not really because he’s unconscious*

——

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker.”

Jason enters chat:

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker and his boyfriend, the Red Hood.”

——

[haologram]

stairway to the stars ☆ l.jh [m]

⤷ part of 'a very seventeen christmas' secret santa event! synopsis: your husband has always been supportive of your dreams - from the sidelines. he stays to himself, he keeps his mouth shut. it's you that can't stop running yours when your co-star is all over him. genre: established relationship au, tiny bit of angst, fluff, smut? pairing: husband!lee jihoon x actress!fem!reader word count: 1.5k...it pained me to stop it here. rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: mentions of jealousy, ideation of infidelity, general relationship dynamics. clit play, kissing, in the backseat...you know the vibes. what to listen to: stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey ; never lose me - flo milli ; the boy is mine - monica, brandy. author's note: hi baby @monamipencil ♡ i hope you enjoy my little segment for you! i did 1000% pull this out of thin air but please let me know if there is ever anything else i can write for you. much love from your secret santa. ♡

"Don't forget about me, sweetheart." It was one of the few phrases your husband burned in your brain when your career really started taking off. He'd only been your boyfriend then, trying his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affections and time. You promised you wouldn't, over shared bottles of heady Cabernet and stolen kisses. The following years proved most difficult – from fighting over not spending enough time together because of your jobs, to vacationing for months on end without repercussions – you were rising to the top way too fast for him to wrap his head around it.

But never once did his love, loyalty, or respect for you falter. He watched quietly from the sidelines, silently supportive of all your endeavors. He'd grimace inwardly a bit if your lipstick stained anyone else's lips on the big screen, he'd clear his throat one too many times if you shed any tears during a scene. He held your waist at events, a silent reminder that your ascend up the stairway to the stars was in good company.

When you finally got a bit of time for yourself, he made it his priority to become someone more permanent in your life. With eyes that never strayed and a heart that only beat for you, he proposed softly as the two of you took a midnight stroll for the first time in a long time. He apologized for not making it something grand, promising your wedding would be to die for and he'd pull every string possible to give you the honeymoon of your dreams – only for you to stop his rambling with a teary kiss to his lips. Telling your friends the news of the proposal was an exciting feat, until it fell on the ears of multiple of your co-stars. You hadn't ever even spoken of a boyfriend (you had, they just didn't remember), and a few of the men you'd worked with questioned the validity of your engagement, of your relationship – and it eventually got back to Jihoon. Whispers of the startup CEO dating an actress filled his office, side-eyed glances made him uneasy in his own skin and he hated it – he hated that people wouldn't mind their own business.

Needless to say, it pissed him off. He'd never been openly possessive, but a part of him knew that neither of you had an issue understanding where you stood in each other's lives. From dating, to girlfriend, to wife – you'd always been open about who Jihoon was to you and what his presence meant. You never shied away from answering his questions if any, and you proudly presented him as your significant other if he managed to attend any of your events. This alone was enough for the two of you to realize that people in your industry didn't take relationships too seriously, and enough for you to hard-launch your relationship by posting your wedding photos on social media.

The industry did not like that, but you didn't care. You and your agent continued to book role after role, your husband continuing to grow his business and make a name for himself in the world of music production…a stepping stone for him, and the first moment of blood-boiling jealousy you'd ever experienced at the side of Lee Jihoon.

Her hand was on his shoulder as they spoke music, and he swiftly moved out of her grasp, sure. The dance floor was full of couples, a dance floor you'd intended to whisk him onto after reapplying your lipstick in the washroom. Someone Like You by Van Morrison played as you stood a few feet away, your face contorted in a fit of envy as you saw your husband push her hand away, the words I'm married, please don't touch me falling from his lips. The woman grimaced – the same woman you'd starred alongside for three seasons of the very same show you were all celebrating a renewal for tonight – and she shrugged her shoulders, before the dreaded words fell from her own red lips.

"So? She doesn't have to know."

Jihoon looked taken aback, and it was almost like he was a moth drawn to a flame – his eyes landed on you, and the way your jaw was tight with anger as you made your way over.

"Soyoung, nice to see you. Did you lose something here, dearest?" You speak softly, staring at your co-star with eyes of fire. She gave you a sleazy smirk, shaking her head. "Not at all, Y/N. Enjoying the party?" "It's lovely, isn't it? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit under the weather." You gave her a tight smile, your hand wrapping around Jihoon's wrist watch as you pulled him away. He'd never seen you in such a state, eager to get him out of the venue and into the backseat of the black car waiting for you. Your arms were crossed as you sat facing away from him, before he made eye contact with the driver. He raised his brow, and the driver nodded, swiftly raising the partition as Jihoon turned to face you.

"Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He saw the way your shoulders tensed under the wine red straps of your dress, your legs crossed at the knee baring the skin of your thigh under the slit of the skirt. You gave him a glance through the corner of your eye, your lip jutted out in a pout as he cooed at you, making you huff in embarrassment.

"I don't like her." You mutter, "I don't like what she said and I don't like how she was all over you. She's literally my co-star. She knows we're married." "As much as I like your little pout and think you're adorable, I don't like that you're upset. You know I'd never wrong you, especially not like that." He tilts his head at you, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I know, Ji. I know." He's not satisfied with your answer, his hand reaching over to graze your knee, biting back his smile at the way your shoulders lose their tension at his touch. Your jaw remains tight, shaking your head in disbelief. "We've been co-stars for three years. You'd think she'd have some fucking respect for me." You were always so calm and collected, never too outwardly expressive of your disdain for people or their actions. He feels almost guilty for the growing tightness in his pants as you click your tongue, facing him as his fingers trace circles into your skin. "You're literally my husband. That's how I introduced you. My husband, Jihoon. Not Lee Jihoon, not the CEO of Ruby Productions, my husband. She's so shameless, I almost pity her." You tongue your cheek with a humorless laugh, and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat at the visual. He's silent as you run a hand through your hair, your earrings swinging as you shake your head again, giving him a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, I know this is out of character." You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He nods, shifting slightly as your hand splays across his thigh. You press a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his pale skin when you notice the flush on his cheeks. He clears his throat as you stare at him, a look of disbelief glossing over your eyes as you gape at him.

"You liked it?" "In my defense, you're hot when you're mad." He scoffs embarrassedly, making you huff out a laugh. "Jihoon." "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to your temple as you roll your eyes. "Are you?" "No." He smiles against your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat as he trails his lips down your neck. "I love you, sweetheart. Just you." "I know, Ji." You sigh, feeling a bit of heat pool in your lower belly as he nips at your shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you do. Maybe I should remind you." Your cheeks grow hot as he gently pulls your thigh over his, his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Now you know how I feel. Everyone always has their hands all over you, like you're not spoken for." You shudder as he slips his fingers under the cotton fabric, smirking against your skin as your hand wraps around his watch. You bite down on your lip as his finger traces your clit, your nails barely digging into his wrist. "Ji, not here." Your body betrays your words, your grip on his wrist loosening as he pulls your thigh higher on his lap. "Why? Aren't you mine?" His voice is sultry as you shiver against him, slim fingers collecting your arousal while he nips at your ear.

"Yes, but-" "Oh, there's a but?" He slides a finger inside you easily, your words getting caught in your throat as you whimper. "Hoonie…" "Tell you what, pretty." He slips his hand out as the car slows to stop, the front of the hotel you're staying at coming into view. "We're going to go upstairs and you're gonna take this dress off for me, and I'll show you who the brightest star in my sky is. Go."

You nearly stumble as your husband walks out behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he bids the driver goodbye. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, his voice low as he speaks into your ear.

“And keep those heels on for me."

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[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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