#I had to almost tackle a ten year old

[heyclickadee]

I’m probably less afraid of venomous snakes than I should be. I mean, they’re dangerous, of course, but the best way to avoid being bitten is to just give them a wide berth. It won’t always work, because they’re hard to see, and a person will sometimes, tragically, not see a snake until they’re stepping on it. But they’re not malicious. There are aggressive snakes out there, but they’re fairly rare, and it’s not as though they go out looking to bite humans, because we’re too big for most snakes, let alone venomous snakes, to eat. When, for example, rattlesnakes snakes bite, they bite because they’re threatened, surprised, or scared. They’re just trying to defend themselves from something much bigger than they are, and which they perceive as a threat. Rattlesnakes even warn you to get away before they bite you most of the time! They’re so polite! Like, sorry I disturbed you, little guy—let me back up and move out of your way. No reason to panic.

I am, however, terrified of water snakes. Like. Oh? Is that a sea snake? Cool, cool, cool, it’s not even going to have to bite me because I’m going to give myself the benz by panicking and pulling the wrong tab on my scuba vest so I shoot up to the surface like a cork. Ditto for water moccasins (though let’s be real, if I find myself in the water with a water moccasin I’m probably also bumping into an alligator).

[cameronspecial]

Hey! I don’t know if you take requests but I love your work🩷. I read your “after sex confessions” and I thought maybe you could do one with Rafe where she and him have been together for a while and during sex he tells her that he loves her but she doesn’t say it back so he thinks she didn’t hear it, when he said it again she didn’t say it back so he was kinda worried but in the end she actually says it back and he is like “say it again *kiss* no seriously say it again”

Rafe's First Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Semi-Smut (Not very descriptive)

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

Rafe doesn’t say he loves people. Why would he when he’s never loved anyone? He gave up on that feeling when his mother was taken from him when he was ten years old. Everyone on the island knows how he feels about this emotion. If a girl gets into bed with Rafe, sex is all it will ever be. Y/N is different though. She makes him feel like how he felt before his mom died. He feels alive and loved, and he wants to embrace every second of it. Tonight, he is going to show her how much he loves her.

He hovers over her with his hips pistoning into her as he stares into her eyes. The way her eyes roll to the back of her head encourages him to keep going. “You love this cock, huh? You love it so much,” he questions, continuing his pace. Y/N nods, “God, Rafe. I fucking love your dick. Keep going.” “Yeah, you love it. You love it so much,” he pants. “I love you.” He didn’t mean to let it out right at this second. He knew it would be too vulnerable to say it during sex. The plan was to take her out to dinner and tell her before dessert, but they hadn’t quite gotten to dinner yet. When she opened the door, he couldn’t help himself. She looked so beautiful in her dressed that they had to get in a little sneaky something before going to eat. Rafe keeps thrusting into her after he let the words slip, but she didn’t say anything. Her head rolls to the side in pleasure. She must not have heard him. His movement slows down. “I love you,” he repeats. Again, he is met with silence. This time he pulls out of her and moves to his on his knees.

Y/N’s brain freezes when she heard him the first time. She was so focused on the feeling of him inside of her that she almost didn’t process the words. The second time, she is sent into confusion. Rafe doesn’t love. It’s not in his nature, especially not since his mother died. But he said the words to her and she isn’t sure if he means it. She looks into his eyes during the silence in which he pulled himself away from her. He meant it. He really does love her. 

“I love you too,” she whispers back, moving closer to him. Rafe’s mouth turns into a grin at her words and he tackles her again. “Say it again,” he orders before kissing her. When she doesn’t, he makes another demand. “No seriously say it again.” She can only let out a giggle. “I love you.” Rafe gets off of the bed and does a victory lap around the room. His cheers bounce off of the wall. He ignores Y/N’s laughter and teasing. He won’t let it dim his happiness. “Are you going to come back and make me come? Or are you going to keep celebrating like a school kid?” she jokes. Rafe takes this as a personal challenge, “Don’t worry, Princess. I’m going to make you come. Over and over again. By the time I’m done, you’ll come so many times that you’ll know just how much I love you.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[writerpeach]

Never Safe For Work

Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader

word count: 14k

The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker. 

The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.

Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end. 

Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.

While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.

Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts. 

Great. 

Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side. 

But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.

"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile. 

“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today. 

"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits. 

“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.” 

“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command. 

With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."

As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit. 

Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk. 

"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious. 

“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.” 

Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate. 

“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them. 

“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”

“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.” 

Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again. 

“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.” 

Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.” 

“Just be professional.” 

“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.” 

Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction. 

“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late. 

After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with? 

“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—” 

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?” 

“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”

“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back. 

“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.” 

Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.

“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.

“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.” 

Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?” 

“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second. 

“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?” 

Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.” 

Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…” 

She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up. 

“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie. 

“But I think you should take a break now…” 

“Gahyeon—” 

“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.

“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?” 

You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations. 

But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.” 

Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.” 

When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth. 

“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.” 

Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.

“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?” 

“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.” 

There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs. 

“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after. 

Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything. 

But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?” 

Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip. 

“I’ll convince you, boss.” 

Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length. 

If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation. 

But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job. 

So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…” 

Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.

“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you. 

“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs. 

“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth. 

“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine. 

That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat. 

“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided. 

Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could. 

In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.

But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.” 

Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you. 

“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before. 

“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?” 

Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—

It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth. 

"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks. 

Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try. 

Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.

“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe. 

More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired. 

Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat. 

After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face. 

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe. 

Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…” 

From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking. 

More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck. 

Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure. 

"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?” 

The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions. 

Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun. 

Shit. 

Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed. 

After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize. 

“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”

Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently. 

While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable. 

“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji. 

“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.

 “Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.” 

You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips. 

“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.” 

“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon. 

“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest. 

If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else. 

“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.” 

“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.” 

“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.

“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work. 

“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"

Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.” 

Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.

More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you. 

“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat. 

Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax. 

Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle. 

You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat. 

After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.

“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.” 

“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm. 

You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground. 

“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin. 

“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt. 

“Nothing, Gahyeon.” 

“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…” 

“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.

“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.” 

Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.

✦ ✦

You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough. 

The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes. 

Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams. 

When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions. 

“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal. 

She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her. 

“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door. 

“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”

“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back. 

“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”

Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.” 

“That’s much better. Now arms up.” 

Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?” 

That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office.. 

“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage. 

She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze. 

“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more. 

Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom. 

Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch. 

“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.

The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough. 

You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh. 

Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment. 

Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench. 

"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power. 

“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.  

“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away. 

Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”  

But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.” 

Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips. 

“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck. 

“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.  

As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee. 

You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open. 

Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!” 

You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.” 

“But they’re supposed to be—” 

Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare. 

“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”

Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.” 

With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach. 

“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric. 

“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?” 

“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?” 

“Until you can’t walk.” 

Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips. 

“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure. 

“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft. 

Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you. 

“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer. 

“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.” 

Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last. 

“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.” 

With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion. 

“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.” 

There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was. 

“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.” 

Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer. 

“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable. 

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more. 

Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever. 

“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!” 

You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts. 

Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control. 

And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together. 

If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end. 

Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.

“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.” 

Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed. 

Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill. 

Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her. 

Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained. 

And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased. 

Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.

"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.

“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly. 

Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.

“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came. 

Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.

“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…” 

“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.” 

Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop. 

You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.

When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered. 

“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps. 

“Gahyeon, fuck—” 

“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…” 

After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.” 

Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing. 

“So, boss…” 

Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?” 

“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”

“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.” 

Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack. 

✦ ✦

After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step. 

Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock. 

But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand. 

You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand. 

“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went. 

“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”

For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock. 

“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.” 

“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up. 

“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…” 

You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes. 

“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.

“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.” 

Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back. 

“Please, daddy—” 

“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.” 

Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?

“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.” 

“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that. 

So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away. 

“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock. 

Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.

“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.

That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”

With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length. 

“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—” 

Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started. 

Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit. 

“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…” 

She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke. 

“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size. 

“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep. 

“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell. 

All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further. 

“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle. 

Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.

“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.” 

Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires. 

“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust. 

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect. 

If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips. 

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved. 

Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt. 

When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.

“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?” 

“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you. 

You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?” 

Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”  

“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself. 

“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.” 

You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.” 

“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…” 

In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead. 

"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again. 

You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”

That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness. 

“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you. 

“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”

Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.” 

You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.  

“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…” 

Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock. 

Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke. 

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.

“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot. 

Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole. 

At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure. 

“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.” 

If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning. 

Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did. 

But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more. 

“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?” 

Gahyeon could only nod. 

“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax. 

“Good little slut.” 

“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist. 

All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body. 

Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop. 

“Gahyeon—” 

“Yes, daddy?” 

You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin. 

“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no. 

"Needy brat."

"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up. 

Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.

She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”

Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that. 

Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway. 

[serafilms]

song 25! hope ur ok (olivia rodrigo) + jason todd requested by @feralsecondchild (spotify wrapped event)

but god, i hope that you’re happier today, ‘cause i love you, and i hope that you’re okay

There was a boy you knew once when you were young.

His name was Jason, you recall. Jason Peter Todd. He was your best friend.

You first met him at ten years old. At that age, you had only just begun to grasp the idea that there were horrors in the world, so when you wandered into the wrong side of town on your way home from school, you were an easy target. Or you would have been, if a boy with jet black hair and pale blue eyes hadn’t dragged you away to his hideout. You kicked and almost screamed until he whispered his name and a promise that he was helping you.

Jason was scrawny and malnourished, but where any older or more condescending of a person might have pitied him, you were in awe. With a crowbar clutched in his hand and eyes alert, he looked brave to you. And you told him as much, vowing to bring him gifts as often as you could to show your gratitude.

He told you you were stupid, but he still escorted you out of town and was the first (and thankfully, only) one to greet you when you returned the next week. You’d snuck in an extra two fancy sandwiches your mother had mass made and put in the fridge because you thought he’d like to try some, and brought along your homework, because you needed to do your homework.

Jason was interested by both, apparently, and you decided from there on out that it was your sworn duty to bring this boy food and an education every few days. It was probably a miracle you made it out of there unscathed every time, you think now. But you loved those days.

You’d read with him, and laugh with him, and cry to him, and eventually he opened up enough to cry to you too. Your heart broke as his eyes filled with tears, and that was the first time you realised how cruel the world could sometimes be.

Then, a day after your twelfth birthday, he disappeared. Some old items remained, but his most personal belongings were gone, including the copy of a book you’d given him.

“Jason?” you whispered to the air. There was no reply, and you left with nothing in your heart but worry and disappointment.

It was a few months later when you saw him again, looking completely different but entirely the same, and his name left your lips for the first time since the night you’d found him gone.

He was here, at Gotham Academy, your school, wearing your uniform.

“Jason?”

He turned and looked afraid for a moment, but your face broke out into a smile and so did his, and he spoke your name before you ran and tackled him in a hug.

“You’re here,” you exclaimed, “but how?”

He’d been adopted by Bruce Wayne, he told you (“Bruce Wayne!” you cried, envious and excited all at once) and now he was doing better and he was enrolled at Gotham Academy.

That meant that you spent almost single day together, in much the same way you used to, but this time in a much better situation. It didn’t bother you much that Jason couldn’t stay long after school. You figured he had a lot to deal with adjusting to this new life and a new father figure.

When you got a little older, though, you started to find it strange. He was awake at odd hours of the night, but sometimes wouldn’t text you back for hours. He’d show up to school with bruises and you began to worry. He assured you he was fine and even invited you to Wayne Manor to prove it, an invitation you accepted in part to ensure your peace of mind and in part because you just really wanted to see where Bruce Wayne lived.

“You must be Y/N,” Bruce Wayne said, greeting you. He was intimidating, with a large stature and something in his eyes that told you not to mess with him, but when you shakily greeted him, he laughed and you realised that he wasn’t all that bad.

You were well received by Alfred as well, and Jason seemed very pleased by the whole afternoon, but wouldn’t tell you why.

Then at fifteen, on the eve of your 16th birthday, Jason Peter Todd was declared declared.

You cried more than you’d ever cried in your life. Your parents didn’t really know how to comfort you. They didn’t understand the depth of your connection with Jason, since you’d neglected to tell them about the two years before he joined your school. Bruce Wayne delivered the news in person, his eyes tired. His tears had dried out. When yours did eventually did, you weren’t tired, but angry.

How could this happen to him? To Jason, the best person you’d ever known? He deserved better. You couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true.

“I held him in my arms,” Bruce told you. “He’s gone.”

That was when you decided that there was no more good in the world.

But sometimes you would dream of a boy, with a hair and face just like Jason’s, waking from a deep sleep, or wandering around, lost. He looks just like your Jason, but his eyes are darker, a startling shade of green.

You would hear a call of your name in the night, in a voice that sounded exactly like his, and look around in a panic only to find nobody there.

A manifestation of your grief, said the psychologist your parents made you see. “It’ll get better.”

It did, for the most part. You don’t hear his voice anymore, except occasionally in your dreams. You rarely dream of him, but in your sleep you sometimes see a man who looks eerily like what you imagine he’d look like now if he had lived. You tell yourself it’s just a face you’ve seen on the street, just a stranger who looks similar. Your Jason had blue eyes.

You try not to think about him as much, but sometimes, you whisper his name into the wind, just to hear it out loud and remember how the syllables feel on your tongue. You send all your well wishes and prayers along with it. You feel like you still don't know what happened to the little boy with eyes of salt, but you hope that wherever he is, he's okay.

a/n: it’s almost 3am here but i totally fixated on this fic and needed to finish it bc i love this song sm and it made me sad and i just felt so good writing this???? anyways stream hope ur ok it samples the atla avatars love song at the end and i listen to it every time i need to sleep

update: read the sequel here!!!!

[luveline]

yess would love to see some roan content

yk roans imaginary (i mean totally real) dalmation, maybe one day reader, eddie and roan are walking around at the park or something and she see a dalmation and just wants to run up and pet the dog. i just think it’d be a cute little moment

thank you for your request! a summer afternoon for the munson family <3 eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader 1.3k

You have Eddie's hand in one hand, Roan's in the other. It's a rare occasion that you get to be the one in the middle. Roan usually insists on it so that she can be swung over the sidewalk curbs. You aren't sure how you've gotten to be the lucky one, but you won't look a gift horse in the face. 

"I'm gon-da climb to the top of the climbing tower–" 

"'Gon-da'," Eddie whispers in your ear, "what is she, five?" 

She is very much five. 

"How dare you," you say. 

He laughs evilly and then remembers he has to be a dad as well as an idiot. "Roan, if you get stuck at the top again I can't come and get you, I'm a scaredy-cat." 

"I'll save you, princess," you say. 

Roan pulls away from your hand. "Thank you!" she calls, sprinting across a stretch of brilliant green grass. The field surrounding the playground is thick and lush and expansive. A group of teenagers throw a Frisbee at one end, while a great golden labrador chases a tennis ball at the other. You walk past babies and the elderly, all manner of Hawkins residents out in swing to enjoy the amazing summer weather. 

"Roan! Stay close!" Eddie shouts. 

She slows to a run. You and Eddie fast walk to keep pace, interlocked fingers swinging with every step.

"It's so nice out today, sure you aren't gonna melt into a leather puddle?" you tease. 

"I reject summer," Eddie says, in all black. 

You laugh. It's the kind of laugh you can only make when it's warm and you're content, the sound rumbly and indulgent. Since meeting Eddie, pretty much ever one of your laughs sound this way when the weather's nice. He smiles at you and bumps his shoulder into yours, his eyebrows, hidden by his bangs, making a rare appearance as he squints against the sun. 

Roan thankfully stops before she gets to the playground, a mass of hot plastic on wood chips that you can smell half a mile away. She rocks back and forth on her heels, feet covered by small white sneakers. Eddie had originally dressed her in a sweet pink dress with flowers on the chest, but you'd peeped up to say she should probably wear pants if she's gonna be climbing things. He'd nodded, said, "Right! Right, what would I do without you, baby?" 

It felt nice to get to amend what she wears, and his easy acceptance of your suggestion. 

"Go on, babe!" he calls. "We're gonna stay right here on the grass and watch you!" 

Roan beams and races to the climbing tower, a plastic and rope contraption that scares the fuck out of you. It's designed to catch a child if they fall, ropes intermingling between layers and reaching a narrow point at the top. You worry she'll fall backwards, but what can you do to stop her? She wants to tackle it, you want her to be brave and have fun, and you're a little unsure if you'd even be allowed to say No, you can't go on there. 

You and Eddie lay out a blanket and sit under the summer heat. He admits defeat and peels out of his thick jacket, exposing the amazing lengths of his arms. They're almost enough to drag your gaze from his climbing daughter. 

"She's gonna be fine," he says. 

"I know." You put your hand on his thigh. "What if she isn't, though?" 

"She will be. They wouldn't build that thing if kids weren't meant to climb it. I've climbed it." 

"You've climbed it?" 

He leans back, lips taking to an open-mouthed smile. "You don't believe me?" 

"How old were you?" 

"Probably not as young as Ro, but– seven? Eight?" 

"Eddie, that's fifteen years ago. You're telling me she's climbing ten feet on a climbing frame that's fifteen years old?" You groan and close your eyes. "You better watch her. I'm gonna have a heart attack."

Eddie covers your hand with his, chuckling. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll watch her." 

You squeeze your eyes closed but take little glances when you can manage it. The higher she gets the worse you feel, anxiety churning your guts. You know she won't fall but your body doesn't. A cold sweat pricks your neck despite the sunshine beating down. 

Eddie plays with your fingers absentmindedly. 

"I think your ring finger is my favourite. And not because of what you're thinking," he says nonchalantly, "but it's cute. You have a little tiny mark, what is that?" 

"Maybe a papercut scar?" you ask. "Wait! Aren't you watching Roan?"

"I am, but I can do both. Plus, even if she falls, what'm I gonna do? The net will catch her, sweetheart, I promise." 

He places his thumb on either side of your finger and presses down to the tip. It's a strange gesture, thoughtless, and your anxiety numbs. You watch Roan climb to another layer. She looks about as nervous as you feel, taking careful steps, pulling herself up with heaving motions. 

Eddie pulls the back of your hand to his mouth and kisses it quickly. "Hey, she's almost at the top."

Roan climbs to the summit. You tilt your head toward Eddie's and wait for her to get down, only she doesn't, climbing to the other side with tense movements. Her front comes into view, and when she spots you and Eddie looking there's a huge smile on her face.

"Look, I'm at the top!" she shouts proudly. 

"You are! You're so fast, and so tall!" Eddie waves at her. 

She waves back. 

"Oh, holy shit, I'm gonna throw up," you say. "I'm gonna go get her down." 

You stand up and almost fall to your knees when Roan shouts, "Oh my god! Oh my god!" 

You don't care who's watching or listening to you, you shout, "What, baby?" 

"A damnation!" 

You get to the bottom of the tower in record time. "Are you stuck?" 

She wags her head. Her every movement makes the tower ropes shake. "Y/N, it's a damnation, look!" she says, pointing behind you. 

You reluctantly turn, heart in your throat, and are greeted by the sight of a full grown dalmatian, white with black spots. You're head rushes. 

Eddie comes to meet you with the blanket and tote bag hastily thrown over his arm. Roan flies down the tower in record time, stops to hug your leg, and then looks up at Eddie and says, "Can I hug it? Please? Please, can I go pet the dog?" 

Eddie takes her hand. "Let's go ask, baby." 

They fast walk to the dalmation before the owner can walk too far away and ask to pet the dog. The dalmation's name is Sammy, and he loves kisses and hugs. He links stripes up Roan's face until she's roaring with giggles, her arms around his skinny neck. 

"Good puppy!" she says, squealing when Sammy licks her nose.

"How's your heart?" Eddie asks. 

"Definitely feeling better." You put his hand against your chest so he can feel the slowed pulse. 

He slides it to your shoulder, throwing the other behind so he can hug you and tug you in for a forehead kiss at the same time. 

"You're pretty when you worry," he says. 

Roan giggles some more, cotton candy sweet. "Daddy, we need a Sammy, please please please!" 

A little bit of his pleased, carefree attitude dissipates. 

"Baby, where would we put him?" 

"He could sleep in my bed!" She rubs Sammy behind the ears. "Do you have a brother, mister Sammy?" 

You tip your head to his ear. "She wants a puppy? What is she, five?" 

Roan beams at you both. Mister Sammy licks a gross line of spit from her chin to her temple.

[sleepiexx]

Boom

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x fem!Reader

Note: bro literally why is Gaz so underrated I’m sick of it. Call me the messiah of the lost or some shit bc I will be writing for every character I feel has been fucked out of their fame.

Summary: Kyle finds his long time girlfriend strapped to a bomb in a terrorist attack.

Warnings: reader’s been beat tf up, there’s a bomb, Kyle lowkey tried to kill himself but not necessarily in like a suicidal way, more like a “if you die, I die” kinda way

Word count: 1073

As he found her there, beat to shit in some skyscraper in London, the life they’d lived together up until this very moment flashed before his eyes.

He remembered meeting her some time after basic training, they were both Rookies assigned together on a mission, she’d saved his ass. He was right next to a grenade and he didn’t even realize until he heard shouting. He was too slow, but she wasn’t. She tackled him to the ground and covered his body with her own, taking the brunt of the blast.

It was as she recovered from the injuries that incident left her with that they’d fallen in love with one another. From then on they’d been inseparable. They became official after a year. After 2, they moved in together, and now, after 5 years, Gaz had been shopping around for rings, trying to psych himself up to ask the question.

The IED strapped to her ticked away, the sound of her impending doom ripping Gaz out of his stupor. He rushed straight to her side.

He shook her motionless frame, pleading she was still alive. She turned her head up weakly and looked at him, blood streaming across her bruised face.

“Mm-mm,” she whined, face twisted in pain, “no.. Kyle you can’t be here.”

Gaz shook his head, disregarding what she was saying as nonsense from her delirious state. “Shh, shh, shh, I’m here sweetheart. I'm gonna get you out of this.”

“No!” She sobbed, “You gotta get away, Kyle. Bomb! There’s a bomb!”

He refused to listen, hands already moving to try and figure out the workings of the IED. He had a minute and a half on his side.

He worked frantically, but as the clock counted down, Gaz’s frustration grew. He couldn’t let her die, he wouldn’t, not on his watch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, trying hard for (Y/N)’s sake not to let his panic show. “(Y/N), love, do you know anything about this bomb?”

She shook with terror, face soaked in blood and tears, voice wavering, “No, please, Kyle, you have to go. There’s no time!”

Price finally caught up to Gaz, catching sight of the couple from across the room. “Gaz!” He yelled at the sight of the IED, stepping towards the two.

Gaz’s anxiety spiked. Normally, the sight of the old man placated Gaz. He trusted the captain to guide him through almost every situation possible, but not this one. Memories of Price tossing a man off of a balcony on a previous mission involving a bomb vest flashed through his brain. That would not be (Y/N), not his girl.

“Stay away from us!” Gaz spat, venom seeping through his tone.

Price stopped in his tracks, raising his hands up. Gaz had his teeth barred like a cornered animal. Price broke eye contact, nodding his head towards the IED.

“Look at the wires, are there any red ones?” He asked.

Gaz dropped his guard dog act, turning back towards his lover, or rather, the bomb strapped to her. His hands began to shake, tears fell from his eyes.

“They’re all black.”

The words rang out like a death sentence, yet Price remained the voice of reason.

“Alright, grab your knife, Sergeant. Don’t focus on the wires attached to the timer. Cut any attached to the explosives. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Gaz’s hands steadied as he gripped his knife, following Price’s orders.

He glanced at the clock as he worked, ten seconds left. His pace quickened, cutting through every wire attached to an explosive, yet the timer kept ticking.

”No! No! No!” He cried.

5

“It didn’t work! Captain, why didn’t it work?!”

4

“Did you get every explosive?”

3

(Y/N) frantically shook her head as Gaz scrambled, scanning the vest desperately to see what he could have missed.

“Just fucking run, Kyle!” She screamed.

2

His mind raced as he found the final explosive, roughly slashing through the wire. The milliseconds on the timer ticked on, so Gaz resigned himself to his fate, wrapping his arms around (Y/N)’s sobbing form and burying his head into her shoulder.

1

Price flinched away, not wanting to witness the Sergeants’ brutal end, but to his relief, nothing happened.

Gaz slowly lifted his head, confusion evident on his face. (Y/N) met his eyes with the same confusion.

Whatever miracle had saved them, Price didn’t know, but he didn’t waste a second in running to get the bomb squad on site.

To their dismay, Gaz didn’t move from (Y/N)’s side once as the bomb squad pried the IED from her body. He sat still, holding her hand and keeping her attention on him.

The moment she was free from the explosives, she collapsed into Gaz’s arms, crying into the crook of his neck.

“God, you fucking idiot.” Her voice broke, as did any resolve she had left in preserving what little composure remained, “Why would you do that?”

He kissed the top of her head, rocking her back and forth. “Couldn’t let you die. At least not alone.”

Her voice was small, hesitant, “You’re really that willing to die for me?”

“Is that even a question?” He muttered.

They parted momentarily, only so that they could position themselves into a kiss. Lips chasing one another, desperate, hungry, pressed so hard they felt they might become one.

“Marry me.” Gaz whispered onto her lips. He’d meant to ask in a romantic way. Take her out to dinner, then to a private location where he’d get down on one knee and ask, yet with their sheer mortality becoming increasingly apparent, he knew it couldn’t wait.

She gripped onto him hard as she nodded, “Of course.” More tears streamed down her face, “Of course I’ll marry you Kyle.”

His lips curled up into a grin, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her in for multiple kisses that she could feel his smile through. She began to smile too, bloodstained teeth on display.

To the side, someone cleared their throat. They snapped their heads to the noise, seeing the captain staring them down with his arms crossed.

They sat like a deer in headlights for a second but quickly broke out into a fit of giggles, Price himself unable to contain his little chuckle.

“I’m just messing with you, kids. I’m proud of you, Kyle. Even if you’re a fucking idiot.”

[frosty-mango]

Reanimated Madara x Shy!Forest Goddess!Reader

@opheliasadventures1 :- Reanimated Madara with a shy and easily flustered forest goddess reader

A/N :- I gotchu with this one first, headcannons coming later I promise. Just bear with me, it's been a minute since I've written on Tumblr 😂

Warnings :- Flirting, mild language, Madara, gender specific reader (fem)

Word Count :- 1.2k

Life has a funny way of things doesn't it? One second you're living fine, alone, happy, content. The next your falling head over heals for a man that can kill you with one fatal jutsu. After that... You're mourning the loss of that man because of a negative spiral for power and revenge. And then your back to square one for god knows how long. The heart can be something so great and so hurtful in these times.

And much to your own dismay it really is. You lived in near solitude after the death of your late husband, Madara. You were fine with this, you couldn't get hurt if you didn't make any new connections. Plus... It's more painful to watch all that you know change and leave when you're immortal. It was like this for years, but until now you hadn't had a reason to leave your sanction till you heard it.

And not just by someone who just so happened to come across your home, but by the very Senju that killed what was your brother inlaw. Tobirama Senju, an old friend yes, but a sour one at the most. Seeing as he wasn't looking completely together told you enough that he was completely there. One of the Senju brothers needing your help wasn't uncommon from back when they breathed and bled, but this was far different. Being asked to stop your husband who is trying to make the world submit to an eternal genjutsu was something else.

And that's why you're here now...

Currently using your abilities to your advantage on the battlefield. You weren't near Madara yet, but you could tell he was there and what he was doing was sickening. Everyone had a show for it too, Hashirama fighting the Ten-tails, Saratobi and who you now know as the fourth hokage, Minato, fighting the reanimated, you and Tobirama on the other hand, were tracking the slippery Uchiha. A plan set and ready, all you needed to do was distract Madara, now how hard could that be?

"How hard is it to track him if you're able to sense things from the ground and roots?" Tobirama sneered at you while you leapt around the battlefield.

"Easier said than done, the less vegetation the harder it can be. So don't act all high and mighty like you can do it better." You rolled your eyes looking softly at the younger Senju as he sighed looking around.

"Just try and focus, the sooner we can seal him away the better-" just as he finished his sentence he was sent flying by a fireball sent straight for him. "Damn bastard! If you don't watch where you're shooting you'll hurt your own plans Madara!"

You had leapt back a good distance when the fireball had come close, earth and fire don't mix well in your conditions. When you scanned the area of the fireball you spotted the spiky haired Uchiha just as he seemingly teleported right before Tobirama. They both locked their hits stopping one another from bashing the others.

"And what do you know about plans? If I recall, you had almost died from two pathetic idiots all because they ate their way out of the Nine-tails." Madara jerked back against the white haired Senju and both backed away from one another. As he was about to call his susonoo again you had jumped at his side and by a miracle tackled him to the ground.

"You damn Shinobi pest never know when to quit-"

"Finish that sentence and so help me I'll make you remember what being slapped feels like." You looked down at him and his stunned face as he was mid jutsu sign. You grinned softly at him as you straddled his waist. "Hi baby.."

Madara just looked at you as he moved to sit up and slid you down to his lap. He looked down at you, scanning over you slowly as a smile formed on his face and his hands moved to your waist and face.

"So, you really weren't lying about being immortal then huh?"

"Why would I lie about that? We had plenty of moments that showed off the truth of that very question." You scrunched your nose a bit and furrowed your brows. Despite trying to look upset and angry, it was rather difficult when he was caressing one of your cheeks and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

"Because, despite that, it just means I get to experience your eternal beauty~" he winked as he brought you to stand up with him. A heavy blush formed on your face while he began laughing at your reaction, his armour shaking as he did.

"Cheeky move Mada.." you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face away into him whilst he hugged you tight to him.

Silence fell over the two of you while you held one another. Taking in one anothers present, this alone made your grip on him tighten as your eyes began to burn, before long you had a small stream of tears rolling down your face. Madara moved you away, grabbing your chin and making you look up into his shining red eyes of his mangeko sharingan. Before you could say anything he only traced his thumb over your lips, hauling your words in your throat.

"I know, I know, my sweet girl... I know..." He spoke softly as things started to come to a stop around you. You shook your head and pulled him close again as your lips met in a tender and longing kiss.

Your hands made their way to the sides of his face and in his hair. As the kiss broke away you heard someone clear their throat. You both turned to look at Hashirama scratching the back of his neck with an awkward grin, Tobirama next to him looking away as irritated as ever, and Saratobi looking away while shaking his head with a small smirk.

"Glad to see your love is as strong as ever!" Hashirama looked at the two of you and rocked on his heels before Tobirama smacked him over the head.

"How about instead of your nonsense you let them talk." Tobirama glared at him before turning to you and Madara before nodding to you directly. Madara lifted his brow as he glared at the three in front of him before looking back down at you.

"Heh- Mada, I love all that you do and all that you've done...but this isn't part of that. You're hurting what was our home. The place we built back then, look at all of this. I've watched it all change and grow and I ask that you don't destroy it. Madara I want to watch what we did grow till I can't no longer, will you grant me that? Please..?"

Madara looked at you with a panned look till it softened, he wrapped his arm around your waist making you blush. As he leaned down and planted a kiss to your forehead.

"I suppose it isn't very fair to make you watch your- our home crumble, especially with you watching over it my sweet girl." He pressed another soft kiss to your head while he looked at his fellow reanimated Shinobi and back down at you.

"Even if I'm gone, I'll be close to you, I promise."

"I know you will Mada, I never doubted your words, not once." You pulled him into another hug that he returned without hesitation and held each other tightly knowing what was to come.

"I love you, my God of the Uchiha."

"I love you too, my Goddess of the land and earth."

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 1

Summary: Almost three years after escaping to New York for college, Danny finally returns to Frankenmuth for the summer, welcomed with open arms by all his family and old friends. All but one. With Sam’s apparent hatred of him, Danny must try to get through the summer with him hanging over his life like a storm cloud, darkening each day spent with their families.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: ANGST, brotherly fluff

Word Count:  1.9k

Warnings: none for this ch? Some shit between Danny and Sam is alluded to but not addressed fully. Also day drinking lol

A/N: I’m so excited to share this new series with y’all, I hope you like it. The series as a whole, as well as specific dialogue/comments/thoughts, are based off a handful of angsty heartbreaking songs that I will post an “unofficial playlist” for, so look for that at the bottom of a masterlist post for this series soon! Make sure to fill out the taglist form in my bio if you want to be tagged in any updates for this or future works! Thanks for reading!

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June 19th, 2020, 5:07 pm.

It had been two years, ten months, and 15 days since Danny had spoken to Sam. Two years, ten months, and 15 days since he had felt fully whole. And two years, ten months, and 15 days full of regret. But who was counting, right?

Danny was. He had begun counting the second he boarded that plane with a one-way ticket out of Frankenmuth, headed straight for “The Big Apple” to start his life over. Away from his family, away from his high school friends and the worst of all, away from Sam. Thankfully Josh had already moved to New York the second he graduated, studying Film Production at Columbia University and practically adopting Danny the second he got there, making sure he was adjusting to the city well and spending as much time with him as their schedules allowed. Coincidentally, Josh’s former roommate had decided to move out right before Danny made the choice to go to New York, leaving the second bedroom of his apartment open for him to fill.

As the distance between Sam and him increased, Danny only became closer to the twins. Even though they had treated him like he was their younger brother ever since he moved in next to the Kiszka’s at age seven, living with Josh who called Jake on facetime every day truly made them the older brothers he had always wished for.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

Danny removes his forehead from the cool glass of the plane window, turning to see a flight attendant standing expectantly in the isle with a too-sweet smile. “Oh, uh no I’m ok, thanks.”

“Alright then. Just letting you know we should be landing in about 20 minutes, so could you please fasten your seatbelt?”

Danny glances down, realizing he hadn’t re-buckled his belt after he had gone to the bathroom to stretch his legs and pull himself together as his family would surely be waiting for him at the luggage return. “Of course, my bad.” He re-buckles it before leaning his head back against the seat as she walks away, closing his eyes and praying that the next few months of his life would pass quickly.

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

Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Shit, there it is. Danny rushes to grab his bag, feeling claustrophobic as the luggage return fills with more and more people. Go out the door, find the car. Out the door, find the car. Drive home and pray he’s not there. It takes him mere seconds to find his parents’ car as his mom frantically waves from across the lot, grinning as she darts between the traffic the instant she sees Danny.

She tackles him in a hug as she rocks them back and forth, her grip on him crushing as he tries to keep his balance. “Oh my god you look so good, how was Junior year? Have you been eating enough? Getting out and having some fun right?”

“Hey mom.”  He locks his arms around her, hugging her just as tight as he smiles. “It was good, yes I have, and yes I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She pulls away teary eyed, still smiling wide at him. “Oh, I know, but that’s my job. And you haven’t been home for so long, how else am I supposed to know how you’re doing?”

“Yeah… sorry about that. You know how it is, between school and work it’s hard to find the time to get back to Michigan for a long visit.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand in the air as if she were shooing away his apologies, taking Danny’s suitcase in the other as she leads him to the car. “You’re in college, I get it. You have better things to do than visit us. Like go to parties. And date. Meet any cute girls recently?”

His heart sinks at the question, trying to keep his smile from faltering as they reach her car. “Too busy to try and date right now, mom.” He takes the bag from her, easily sliding it into the trunk as she watches him.

“Bullshit. C’mon, you’re a young, attractive guy. You must have some girls in your lectures throwing themselves at you.”

“You know me, I’m too focused on my studies to pay attention to that. It’s fine, I promise. I’m doing good in New York, living with Josh has been great, I’ve made some good friends. Dating just isn’t at the top of my priorities right now.” He hopes that his explanation will be enough for his mom to drop the topic as they get into the car, her prying being in good intention but only resurfacing old wounds.

“Oh! Speaking of, Karen and Kelly are having a barbeque tonight to celebrate you, Jake and Josh coming home for the summer. Your dad would have come with me to get you but he’s at their place right now helping set up.”

“Great, that’s great. Can’t wait to see everyone again.” Not everyone. Danny tries to keep his mind away from him as he listens to his mom talk throughout the drive, the pit in his stomach only growing as they turn down more and more familiar streets. A small weight lifts off his shoulders when he doesn’t see him in the front yard as they pass the Kiszka’s house, pulling into his childhood home’s driveway, his thoughts louder than his mother’s voice as they get out of the car.

“Danny?”

“Hm?”

“I said, do you want to go settle in and freshen up before you head over?”

“Oh, yeah that’d be great. Sorry, didn’t hear you, must be jetlagged.”

“You’re ok, it’s alright if you need to take a nap before tonight, everyone will completely understand. It took Josh a day to sleep off the travel.”

Danny snorts as he extends the handle of his suitcase, closing the trunk with the other hand. “Yeah, I bet he did. I swear, he gets tired from taking the subway for 15 minutes, can’t imagine him traveling on a plane without at least two naps. Should be alright though, thanks.”

“Of course. Alright, I’m going to go over to the Kiszka’s and let them know you’re here, see if they need any help and all that. The fridge and pantry are stocked up if you need a snack, and your room’s just as you left it.”

“Thanks, mom. Love you, see you in a few.”

“Love you too, Daniel. Don’t take too long.” Her tone is light, joking as she spares a glance behind her to smile before disappearing into the backyard.

It’s just a few hours, it’ll be fine. I can avoid him all night, there should be enough people to do that easily. Just a few hours and then I don’t have to see him all summer. Except he lives next door. And his older brothers are my closest friends and roommate. And our parents are friends. Should be easy to avoid him, right? God, I’m fucking screwed.

The second he reaches his room, he faceplants into his bed, nearly toppling off the edge of the twin after getting accustomed to his queen bed in New York. Rolling onto his back, he finally takes the room in. It was exactly how he left it the last time he visited, unchanged from when he lived there, like everything had frozen in time as he continued on. Everything in his room reminded Danny of a simpler time, of him. Of laying side by side on his too small bed, talking for hours as they stared up at the soft yellow of the Neil Young Harvest poster hung on the ceiling. The old acoustic guitar in the corner they would trade back and forth on his floor for hours now sat dusty and unused. The singe mark on the wood of his windowsill from the time they got too high and let the end of their joint burn out on it. He was everywhere, in everything. Danny could never escape him no matter how far he went, everything always circled back to him. He could grow and change and learn, but Frankenmuth would forever be there to remind him of everything that once was.

Might as well get up and get the party over with instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself. At the thought, Danny slides off his bed, landing hard on the ground before forcing himself up to find something to change into. After travelling all day, he was eager to get out of his loose jeans and sweatshirt, knowing it was too nice of a day to be comfortable wearing that outside.

He opens his suitcase unenthusiastically, hoping that he had remembered to pack at least one pair of shorts. Thankfully, he had, and he finds his (quite short) yellow shorts and his Howlin’ Wolf muscle tee in no time, changing quickly and slipping into his old, slip on vans before trudging down the stairs and out the front door, heading straight for the Kiszka’s backyard.

“DANNY!” The second he walks through the side gate, Danny only sees the blur of Jake before he slams into him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he loses his footing, falling backwards and pulling Jake down with him.

When he catches his breath, Danny wraps his arms around the other man with a grin as they lay on the soft grass. “Jake! Great to see you, man. Missed you.”

Jake loosens his grip before getting up and offering Danny a hand to pull him up. “Missed you too, it’s been way too long.”

“DANNY!” This time it’s Josh who slams into him, practically jumping into his arms as Danny catches him. “I’ve missed you so much, it’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other.” He fake sobs into his neck, pulling out everything he learned from the years of theater he did in high school to put on his act.

“We live together, Josh. I saw you three days ago.” Danny’s voice is flat, but he can’t help a smile from creeping onto his face as Josh pulls away from him grinning.

“Yeah, I know, but I still missed you.” After Danny makes his rounds of teary hugs with his dad, Karen, and Kelly, he looks around the yard, hating himself for noticing his absence.

“Sam’s inside cutting some watermelon, he’ll be out soon.” Karen says with a smile, picking up on what he was looking for and thinking her comment was helpful.

“Oh, great. That’s great.” They don’t know. He never told them.

“C’mon Danny, Josh and I started day drinking an hour ago, you gotta catch up to us.”

“Jacob!” Karen swats his arm as he passes her, already on his way to start making a drink for Danny.

“What? He’s 21 now, it’s legal.”

Danny’s smile is wiped clean off his face as he hears the back door slide open, turning to see Sam standing frozen in the doorframe with a large bowl of watermelon in his hands. Say something. Say something or it’ll be weird. “Hey Sam.”

Sam’s expression is as flat as his voice when he speaks. “Daniel.”

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taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm

[latibvles]

something to write about.

we are back with another one of these!! yay!! this week's prompt is recuperation — and so we're tackling willie and some post-bremen dilemmas, featuring John Brady no this isn't just an excuse for me to write them who said that? anyways im fond of them and this and I hope you are too :) me? posting at a reasonable time? unheard of.

It was almost offputting, how a phrase could change meaning in a little over 72 hours. Nothing to write home about becomes nothing you can write home about. Willie always struggled with writing letters, and Viv often teased her about how she’s the only person in the Hundredth who could struggle with making piloting sound exciting. Of course, Willie didn’t want it to sound exciting, even if she could manage that. She didn’t need Otto getting any wise ideas to end up on the fast track for enlistment. But now, there was nothing she could write home about.

Thirty people, gone, just like that. It was hard to be optimistic when there were no chutes to give some scrap of hope — and Willie hated watching June wipe Carrie’s blood from her hands almost as much as she hated watching Carrie get carried away on a stretcher, her collarbone a bloody mess haphazardly subdued with the sulfa powder and rag June held to it until she had to drop their bombs in the channel. They only knew how upset she was about the whole thing after she kicked her footlocker like it’d personally wronged her after interrogation.

If this is what it feels like being the last man standing, Willie hates it most of all.

That was three days ago, and now most of Mouse Hole’s flak holes were all patched up, and Willie’s certain that if she hopped into it right now, there would be no blood on that bombsight, no remnant of the fact that Bremen, in plain terms, had been a failure.

But that was nothing she could write home about, now was it?

She couldn’t tell home about the dead or about the hole torn through a nineteen-year-old girl. She couldn’t tell them about the flak or watching three planes go down or the engine fire. She couldn’t tell them that ten women she’d considered friends were gone, just like that — no funeral, no fanfare. She just had to live with it, like they all did, even if she still couldn’t make sense of what she’d seen and much less make sense of the fact that she’d have to witness it again.

“Willie?”

The sound of her own name catches her offguard — she wants to kick herself for the reflexive jolt her body makes at being caught offguard. But she turns her head and there’s John Brady, looking apologetic for startling her.

And that fact really makes her want to kick herself.

“Hey,” she breathes out, then inwardly cringes at her own lackluster response. Real smooth, Willie.

“Hi,” That makes it better. He walks closer still, nods, and Willie looks over the details of his face quickly. Furrowed brows and a bit of a tight lip — he’d given them that same look when they came out of interrogation. 418th. The first group grounded, huh. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” She counters, brows raising. This, however, makes him nod, the frown cracking a little bit. Good enough.

“I asked you first.” Willie clicks her tongue in mock surrender, then gestures to Mouse Hole — the Mickey Mouse decal grinning down at the two of them like a flak-happy lunatic — then gives him a half-shrug.

“Came to check on my house,” she explains, a statement that chips away at the rest of that tight-lipped frown and makes him smile a little bit. Much better. “Thought I��d catch Swanson out here or something. Wanted to ask a couple questions but now I guess I’m just having a staring contest with Mickey Mouse.” His brows shoot up towards his hairline and he chuckles.

“Oh yeah? Who’s winning?”

“Me, obviously. I don’t lose,” He makes a noise that she’s pretty sure, or rather, hopes, is a laugh — based on how the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, how he ducks his head down for a moment to rub the nape of his neck with a quiet muttering of ‘of course.’ Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, tilts his head up to also, presumably, try his luck against the flak-happy mouse. He’s pretty bad at it though, because he glances at her again out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s Viv?” Viv and Willie. Willie and Viv. Wherever one goes the other trails. Willie reaches up to rub at her earlobe a bit.

“Fifteen minutes behind me, probably. Or keeping the rest of them out of trouble,” Because that’s how it’s probably gonna be — she’s gonna make sure no girl walks home alone in the dark and I’m gonna sit and grumble until we make piss-poor jokes about it, just like we did over smaller things in Utah, Iowa, and Nebraska, too. “She’ll end up at the club one way or another.”

Brady nods, giving little more than an understanding ‘Ah’ and there’s a moment there where they lapse into something of a familiar quiet.

This, funnily enough, is the most normal she’s felt in days. She couldn’t really shake that restlessness that settled in after interrogation — a loud, harping feeling that she should be doing something. Which is at least half the reason that she came out here to begin with — to do something, maybe find something worth writing about on the hard-stands. I could tell them about Sandy Swanson and her crew of mechanics, or…

She looks Brady up and down for a moment. There was something assuring in knowing he didn’t seem off-put by her silence, that he was fine with sitting in it instead of prying words out of her that she couldn’t give. But words always came easier to her when she was comfortable anyway. And when it came to comfortable…

“You played well, last night,” Willie shoves her hands into her pockets. You always do. He raises a brow, his smile turning lopsided and boyish in a way Willie thinks she likes more than she reasonably so.

“You think so?”

“Well I’m no expert on the subject, but yeah,” Willie nods, affirming her own statement. “I do.”

There’s a look shared between them, and Willie feels that shyness starts to overtake her as it so often does when it comes to him. There’s the urge there, to say more: to show how much attention she pays to him when he picks up his instrument. There’s also the acute awareness that anything she says she’ll have to live with after saying it, and so she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something too bold.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’d quickly earned a soft spot with her, whether he meant to or not. Maybe that was something she could write about.

…Not the soft spot— the band. The music. She hadn’t really talked about that part much, beyond that there is a band, and there is music; jazz most nights, meant to provide them with some means of relaxation day in and out. There are words the more she thinks on it, waiting to be phrased in the right way to statiate the needs of both her worrying mother and her too-curious little brother. If there’s a few sentences in there about an unnamed saxophonist being, in her eyes, maybe a little bit better than the rest — then it’s a good thing she censors her own mail.

She reaches up to pat the body of her fort twice, takes a couple steps back and gives him a once over.

“I’m gonna head over now, I think. So I don’t make the missus wait on me,” there’s a snort there that’s so uncharacteristically Brady, and yet somehow he makes it work.

“Right, okay. I’ll walk you.”

“Think I can’t handle myself, Brady?” He clicks his tongue, turning as she walks past to keep step with her. He mutters something under his breath that she doesn’t quite catch, then continues to look at her as they walk.

“You caught me. I’m trying to keep you from dancing on tables.”

“Damn, there goes my weekend plans.”

Laughing is a shared sound, his deep chuckle overlapping with her breathy one, and she likes the combination. They lapse into that quiet again, the comfortable kind that feels normal when everything else doesn’t. Willie says nothing of the fact that their shoulders bump every now and again — if this is as much of a reprieve as she’s getting, then she’s more than happy. She’s never been a greedy type, but she could start to be if it meant there would be more of this. She steals a momentary glance at him, before committing wholly to it with a clearing of her throat as they get closer to the long rows of huts that line the path to the Officer’s Club.

“You never answered my question,” Willie points out, and Brady responds with little more than another ‘hm?’ “I asked what you were doing out there, you never answered.”

Brady’s brows raise to his hairline and he nods slowly before looking away from her, tongue poking out to run over his lips for what feels like a full minute before he looks back at her with that boyish smile of his again. There’s that brief, fleeting thought that recuperation looks less like the shine of brassy instruments and more like the warm, welcoming glint in those gray-blue eyes of his. If nothing else, he’s serving as a pretty great reminder that she is not, in fact, the last man standing.

“Heard there was a mouse running around by the hard stands, wanted to make sure she wasn’t scurrying into any of the forts and trying to take off,” The smile on his face gets a little wider with every word. Willie can’t help it — she laughs a little louder than before, shaking her head, half-disbelieving and yet surprised all the same that she couldn’t come to that conclusion on her own.

“Seriously? Did Viv put you up to that?” She asks, not upset at all, but Viv had a tendency to worry so Willie wouldn’t be especially surprised if she had.

It’s the barely there shake of his head, ‘no’ that almost knocks the wind from her lungs, and even if she doesn’t write this part down: Willie knows her mind will return to this fact often. And she won’t be able to hide her smile when it does.

[leiawritesstories]

I'm so happy for you, congrats🫶🫶🎉

This prompt: "I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

thank you so much 🥹🥹❤️ i ADORE this prompt

Word count: 1,154

Warnings: kids being uncontrollable as usual

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm home!" Aelin called, pressing the button to close the garage door as she stepped into the house. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief, set down her leather tote, and counted exactly eight seconds before two sets of little arms flung themselves around her legs and waist, two excited little voices squealing for Mama! "Hi, my loves," she laughed, ruffling her children's hair. "Let Mama actually get into the house before you tackle me, alright?"

"Tackle?" Brannon perked up, hearing his favorite word. At ten years old, he was just as sports-minded as all the other boys in his class, and he'd had to learn that if he wanted to tackle, he needed to be outside in the Whitethorn-Galathynius family's expansive backyard.

"Of course that's the only thing you hear," Aelin chuckled to herself. "Not literally, son," she told him. "I'm way too strong for you to tackle."

"Are not!" To prove his point, her son charged, barely able to latch his arms around her waist before she swept him up into her arms, tipped him over her shoulder, and carried him into the playroom.

He shrieked with laughter. "Okay! Okay Mama! You win!"

"That's right, B," she teased, squeezing him in a brief hug. "Hi, my boy. How was school--aaaaaand he's gone." She laughed to herself. "Boys."

"Hi Mama!" Seven-year-old Evie gleefully took Bran's place in Aelin's arms, snuggling herself up close against her mother.

"Hi, lovey," Aelin beamed, holding her younger daughter close. "How was your school day?"

"Good!" Evie's grin was a perfect replica of her mother's. "I got a gold star on my spellin' test, an' I pushed Timmy off the monkey bars!"

Aelin's shoulders shook with mirth. "Evalin, honey, haven't we talked about how you shouldn't push other kids on the playground?"

Evie shrugged. "He said Sana's bow was stupid."

"Hmm." Unable to resist her little mirror image, Aelin winked. "Well, I understand that, then. But next time he says something like that, you need to tell the teacher, okay?"

"Okay." Evie bobbed her curly blonde head. "Wanna see my gold star, Mama?"

"Of course I do!" Aelin let her small daughter lead her back out to the kitchen, where she found her eldest child sitting at the dining table, working on a set of math problems.

Evie tugged her past the table before she could stop and say hello. "C'mon, Mama!" Aelin followed her to the fridge, where her latest spelling test was stuck to the door with magnets. "Look!" Evie pointed proudly to the gold star adorning the top of the page.

"Well done, lovey!" Aelin gave her a high five. "You're way better at spelling than I ever was."

"Really?"

"Yep." She nodded. "Don't tell anyone, but I couldn't spell 'banana' the right way until I was Lana's age."

"And you still can't," Rowan teased, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, just below her ear. "Hi, my love."

"Hi." She turned to face him and pressed her lips to his, earning a full set of disgusted noises from the children.

"Ugh, you guys! Gross!" Lana protested, throwing an eraser at Rowan's back. The oldest of the Whitethorn children, she was almost thirteen and growing up far too fast for Aelin and Rowan's liking.

"Just give it a few more years," Aelin whispered into Rowan's ear.

It was her husband's turn to shudder. "Don't remind me," he groaned.

She chuckled. "I won't. Not when you're cooking dinner, at least." Leaving one last kiss on the edge of his jaw, she went back into the dining room and sat down next to her oldest. "Hey, Lana."

"Hi, Mom." Lana was busy with her math homework, pencil scratching against the paper as she worked through a problem. Aelin could tell from the set of her daughter's jaw that she was stuck, so she waited quietly until Lana groaned and tossed her pencil down on the tabletop.

"This is stupid," she grumbled, scowling. "Stupid math. Why can't they just give us equations instead of stupid word problems?"

Aelin retrieved the pencil and placed it next to Lana's math book. "How far did you get?"

Grudgingly, Lana turned her paper so Aelin could see. "I literally don't even know." She pointed to the problem in the book. "I kinda get what it wants me to solve for, but it's not helpful at all with how to solve it."

"That's why it's called a problem, sweetheart." Aelin read the problem over a few times and looked over her daughter's work. "You've got it just about halfway solved, actually."

"No I don't! There's three variables, I only found one!" Lana was on the verge of wailing.

Aelin kept her voice calm. "Do you know how to use a system of equations?"

Slowly, Lana nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Here." Aelin rewrote the two equations Lana had found using the variable she'd solved for. "Now can you substitute so there's only one variable?"

"Um..." Lana took the pencil back and scribbled. "Yeah! I can." As she grasped the problem, she wrote faster, until she'd solved for the second variable, plugged it into one of the equations, and found the third. "I did it!"

Aelin checked the math and nodded. "You did it!"

Unexpectedly, Lana got up and squished her mother into a hug that was all lanky limbs. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Aelin smoothed Lana's messy, light blonde hair and let her go put her math book away, homework done for the night. She went back into the kitchen and took the stack of plates from Rowan's hands. "Let me."

He flashed her a grateful look. "Thanks, babe."

"Ewwwww," Lana grumbled, wrinkling her nose as she passed by.

"There's our almost teen," Rowan chuckled, fondly.

Aelin came over to get silverware. "Stop saying that, it makes me feel old as hell." She pressed her fingertips to his lips before he could make a smart remark about how she was old. "I know, I'm not twenty-two anymore, but neither are you, my love." She smirked. "You've always been old."

"Rude!" Checking to make sure the kids were far out of eyeshot, he flicked the dish towel at her, swiping it across her ass.

She flashed him a wicked grin. "Careful with that, old man. That's how we found ourselves in this situation in the first place."

His face flushed a delightful shade of scarlet and he coughed, choking on whatever he'd been about to say. "I love you so much," he wheezed, regaining his breath.

"I love you more." Silverware set, she slipped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his shoulder. "I know we're already married, Ro, but I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

His deep green eyes went soft. "I'd marry you again every day, Fireheart."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Time for a little reveal, but only a little...

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3449

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5

Over the next four years, she only briefly saw the Winchesters a handful of times, none of them long enough for any sort of challenge Dean could come up with. Although, she and her father visited her Uncle at least once a year, staying a few days each time.

William still hadn’t let her go out on a hunt on her own yet but he did let her start coming with him to help when she turned thirteen. He had picked something easy for her to cut her teeth on, a simple salt & burn. She’d quickly put together the pieces of the case within only a few hours, managing to save a woman’s life in the process. By the time she was fourteen, she was going with him on all his cases, not just doing the research at whatever motel they happened to be staying in. 

“Hey Uncle Bobby,” she said as he greeted them in the driveway one cold November morning.

“You’ve grown munchkin,” he chuckled.

“Tends to happen after four years,” she replied, smirking a little.

Bobby glanced over at William, who just smiled and shook his head a bit, “Your room is still how you left it from the last visit,” he told her.

“God, those cat posters aren’t still hanging up are they,” she asked, groaning slightly.

“I didn’t change anything, if that’s what you’re askin',” he chuckled.

She just shook her head as she went inside. Her Uncle’s house hadn’t changed any, except for the size of the stacks of books, which had grown since her last visit, almost a year ago now. Maria set her bags down on her bed and looked around her room with her hands on her hips. 

“God, I was such a kid,” she mumbled before she began taking down old posters from her childhood.

Maria redid her room, then took a step back, looking satisfied with the outcome. At least it didn’t look like a ten-year-old’s room now. She unpacked her things, knowing they were staying for a week, at minimum. In the middle of setting up her desk with her books, she heard the purr of the Impala outside. She looked toward her closed door, raising an eyebrow. It’d been almost a year and a half since she’d seen them last, slightly curious how they had changed or if Dean was still annoying. She shrugged her shoulders though and went back to setting up her desk. Her father had said she didn’t have to do any lessons today, due to how long they’d been on the road, but she liked her routine and learning. She slipped her blue flannel on, leaving it unbuttoned over her t-shirt to keep her arms warm, finding her Uncle’s a little more chilly than she remembered.

“SIS!!” Sammy yelled as he rounded the corner and barreled into her room, nearly tackling her in a hug.

She laughed hard as she wrapped him up in a hug, then spun him around, “Little brother, I missed you,” she told him happily before she set him back down, ruffling up his hair.

“Stop,” he giggled, pushing her hand away, “How long are you staying?”

“Probably a week. What about you?” she asked, smiling down at him. He was still shorter than she was by a few inches.

“Don’t know. Dad didn’t say,” he replied.

Her smile quickly faded as she turned around and looked in her doorway, almost glaring at him, “Dean,” she said flatly.

“Maria,” he replied, leaning on her doorframe, arms crossed.

“Why do you two act like you hate each other?” Sammy asked, looking between the two of them.

Neither of them spoke, but Dean smirked before he pushed off the wall and went back into the living room. Once he was gone, she looked back over at Sammy and sighed, “I don’t hate him, Sammy. I just think he’s annoying,” she tried to explain.

“Why?” he asked her, tilting his head a bit.

“It’s hard to explain,” she sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Can you try?” he asked, still curious.

She glanced up at him, “He always wants to beat me, at everything. I mean, we could work together. He’s really good at a lot of stuff, but…” she trailed off, glancing at her doorway before she continued, “... he thinks girls shouldn’t hunt cause boys are better at it.”

“Is that why he keeps challenging you?” his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You’ve got a lot of questions this time,” she chuckled as she looked into his adorable eyes.

“Sorry sis, curious, that’s all,” he giggled.

“It’s good to be curious, that’s how you learn things. I guess he’s mad, cause I’m a girl and I keep beating him, no matter what he comes up with. It’s not like I’m gonna let him win, then he wouldn’t learn anything. A monster won’t let you win when you go against one, so I won’t just let Dean win either,” she explained, knowing he was old enough now to understand.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Sammy replied as her words sunk in, “So… in a way… you’re helping him get better at hunting,” he concluded.

She chuckled a little, Sammy really was adorable, “Yup, just like my dad taught me.”

The two of them headed back out, Maria went right to the kitchen, looking through what her Uncle had available in the way of food. Thanksgiving was only a few days away and she noticed he’d stocked up on several things for it, making her smile. She grabbed out two packages of chicken, setting them on the counter to defrost for dinner. Then she headed to the cabinets, looking for ingredients for gravy. Again, she smiled to herself and shook her head a bit in disbelief seeing what he’d stocked up on before she headed into the living room.

“You’re the best Uncle Bobby,” she said happily.

“What am I? Chop liver?” her father asked, being playful.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Maybe I should have said he was the best Uncle then,” she replied, in a bit of a smartass way.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, glancing over at William, “She got mouthy huh?” 

William laughed, “This is nothing, but she knows where the line is.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went outside, wanting nothing to do with her. He was sixteen now and all hormones but all he saw when he looked at her was that annoying five-year-old that had beat him in a challenge of throwing a rock at a target almost ten years ago. He didn’t want to be at Bobby’s for a week because she was there. 

“What’s up with Dean?” William asked John after Dean had gone outside.

“He’s sixteen and according to Sammy, Maria is his rival, since they were five. He’s mad he can’t beat her at anything,” John chuckled.

William glanced at his daughter before he looked back at John, “She won’t let him win John.”

“I know,” he said plainly, “I hope she never does. It’ll teach him to get better. Hone his skills.”

William thought about what John said and sighed, “You’ve got a point there.”

“I pulled out dinner,” Maria interjected, as respectfully as she could, as it had been one of the reasons she’d gone into the living room.

“Oh? Whatcha cookin this time?” Bobby asked her, leaning back in his chair.

“Chicken with mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, and probably corn, and thank you, for having all the ingredients already,” she replied, smiling.

“Well, what kind of Uncle would I be if I didn’t keep those things on hand, knowing you’d be coming by?” he asked her.

She knew he was being playful, but she also had those teenage hormones going through her as well, they just came out differently, “Probably the worst uncle ever,” she replied, quite the smartmouth.

Sammy was shocked by what she’d said but didn’t say a word, the adults just chuckled, “Mouth,” her father said, somewhat sternly.

“Sorry, Pappa, and I’m sorry Uncle Bobby,” she said quietly, realizing her mouth had run away again, “I’m gonna go work on my lessons.”

“Get something to eat first,” her father told her, to which she nodded.

She cursed at herself in her head as she made herself a sandwich before taking it to her room to eat. It was her biggest issue, her mouth, and some of the things that came out of it. Maria didn’t have emotional issues or confidence issues. Well, she hadn’t had them before. This visit was going to change that for her in ways she wouldn’t fully understand until she was much older. She had a mouth on her, even if she didn’t cuss, not yet anyway. William had pondered a lot on how Alarra would have handled it, although, he couldn’t think of a way other than reminding her when it happened. Maria read one of her books on lore while she ate her sandwich, not wanting to interact with the adults at the moment. Since she had hit thirteen, she wanted more and more alone time, even away from her father. 

“Have any more of her powers surfaced?” Bobby asked William quietly since Sammy had headed outside to wherever his brother had gone.

“No, but she’s perfected the few she does have, so heads up on that,” William warned them.

“So, no sneaking up on her then?” John asked.

“Nope. She knows when you get about fifteen feet away now,” William explained.

“Dean’s not gonna like that one,” John chuckled.

“Is it a hearing thing or can she just sense someone’s presence?” Bobby asked.

“I think it is more of sensing someone’s presence. She’s been using it over the last year, going out on hunts with me,” William answered.

“She’s been killing things for the last year?” Bobby asked, not sure what to think of a thirteen-year-old hunting, even with her father.

“Yup, and she’s really good at it. Hell, she saved my neck a couple times now,” William replied, smiling a little as he thought back.

“Damn,” John almost exclaimed, slightly surprised.

The boys came back into the house and went straight for food. Dean was thankful that Maria wasn’t around. He’d still been thinking of another challenge he could win. Dean had attempted to convince his dad to let him challenge her to a race with the Impala and the truck, but his dad had put a stop to that one. He also had no intention of repeating any of their past challenges. The adults quickly changed the topic, hearing the boys in the kitchen. Maria just rolled her eyes from her room, deciding not to take care of her plate yet, knowing Dean was in the kitchen.

“It’s gonna be a long week,” she mumbled, flipping the page in her book.

She came out around four so she could start dinner, determined not to let Dean ruin something she enjoyed. When she went to use the sink so she could wash the chicken, she saw the boys’ dishes from lunch still sitting there. 

“Dean! Sammy!” she hollered from the kitchen, trying not to sound as pissed as she felt.

Sammy came running, but Dean hadn’t budged from where he sat in the living room, “You okay sis?” Sammy asked her.

She instantly calmed down hearing him, “Hey, thought we had an agreement when we were here together,” she said after she turned to look at him, managing a soft smile, “Remember, you keep up on your dishes so I can cook dinners?” she asked, sounding nicer than when she had yelled for him.

“Sorry sis,” he replied, feeling bad that he’d forgotten.

Sammy went over and washed up his dishes as Maria just glared at Dean, who was sitting in a chair in the living room, right in her line of sight, “DEAN!” she yelled again.

“What?” he replied as if he had no clue what her problem was.

“How come you left your dishes in the sink?” she asked, trying to keep her temper under control. 

“Cause I felt like it,” he said, not even looking over at her.

At that, she smirked, “Okay, well I don’t feel like cooking for you tonight then. You can have something else.” she said in that smartmouth tone of hers and turned back to the sink.

Dean was stubborn, but so was she. He just sat there, the three adults looking over at him, none of them saying a word. They would let the two of them work out their differences but at the same time, they were going to let Maria dictate this one. There was plenty of food in the house and if Dean wanted to be as stubborn as he was, he was going to have to deal with the consequences of his stubbornness.

Maria washed the dishes Dean had left in the sink, as she needed the space to cook, but it also meant he had no way of being able to eat what she was cooking that night. When she got to the potatoes, Sammy wanted to help her, so she let him peel them while she cut them up and got them ready to boil. A half-hour later, the aroma of the baked chicken began filling the kitchen as she stirred the boiling potatoes. 

“How much longer sis? I’m starving,” Sammy practically whined as he wandered back into the kitchen.

“About thirty more minutes,” she replied before she turned to him, “Wanna help me set the table?”

“Sure,” he replied excitedly.

She giggled a little seeing his excitement at something so simple, which made her love cooking more than she already did. Maria handed things to Sammy from the higher cabinets that he couldn’t reach and he set the table for everyone. 

“Will you stir the gravy while I mash the potatoes?” she asked Sammy, knowing how much he loved to help her.

“Definitly,” he said with a huge grin.

By now the aroma of the baked chicken had made its way into the living room, even getting to the adults. Dean’s stomach growled at how good it smelled, which only annoyed him further. Maria put the mashed potatoes on the table before finishing up the corn and gravy. That was when she pulled the chicken out of the oven, smiling proudly as she set the pan on the pot holder in the middle of the table.

“Dinners done,” she hollered before turning off the stove and sitting down across from Sammy, who had been trying to wait patiently for the last twenty minutes. 

They all joined her in the kitchen sitting down at the table, even Dean. She raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. John put some of everything on Sammy’s plate while Bobby and William set up their plates before she did hers. The moment Dean reached for the chicken, she smacked his hand.

“Hey, what the hell was that for?” he said, annoyed, pulling his hand back.

“Mouth,” John said in a low, deep tone, glancing up at his oldest son.

“You didn’t take care of your lunch dishes, you don’t get what I cooked. We had an agreement,” she explained calmly.

“It’s Bobby’s house, you don’t make the rules,” Dean retorted.

“Boy, she cooked, she makes the rules for the meal she made, and she never asks for more than you boys keeping up on your dishes,” Bobby told him sternly.

“Oh come on!” Dean exclaimed, quite annoyed as he threw his hands up.

“Son, she warned you before she started. Go find something else to eat,” John told him, just as sternly as before.

Dean went to open his mouth but quickly thought better of it. Maria wasn’t even smug about it. Part of her felt bad that he wasn’t going to get any but really she was more hurt than anything that he wanted to break his word to her, about their agreement. In the adult's eyes, it wasn’t much to ask for from her. She didn’t have to cook, she’d wanted to. Maria was fairly good at keeping her emotions out of her expression and the last thing she wanted was for Dean to see that he’d hurt her feelings. She ate mostly in silence as Dean ate two decent-sized meat sandwiches, everyone else praised her on the meal she’d made.

There wasn’t much to put away when everyone was done eating. She’d gone to clean up when John stopped her, setting his hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him, “We got clean up tonight,” he smiled down at her, “You’re an amazing cook, by the way.”

She smiled a little, “Thanks Uncle John,” she replied before she headed to her room.

Maria made it halfway through the living room before Sam tackled her with a hug from behind, “Dinner was AMAZING!” he exclaimed, squeezing her tighter.

“Okay Sammy, but I’d like to keep my dinner in my stomach,” she told him through his grip.

He quickly let her go, “Sorry, it was just really good. I miss your cooking when you aren’t around,” he told her.

“Maybe, when we’re older, we can hang out more and I can cook for you,” she told him, knowing it probably wouldn’t happen, not with them all being hunters. It was a nice dream though, and dreams were something she felt Sammy needed.

Dean just glared at her as she walked to her room, “And don’t get into the leftovers Dean. I know how much was left,” she told him without looking over her shoulder, to which he just scoffed.

She got her night chores done before she went back to the book she’d been reading, more things on witchcraft. Some of it was boring but she got through it nonetheless, knowing that even the boring stuff could be useful, depending on the witch. After the adults were asleep though, she slipped out of her room to go look through Bobby’s new books that she had taken note of earlier in the day.

Maria was quiet, even on the hardwood floor as she walked over to the stack of books near his desk. She picked up one on sigils, werewolves, vampires, and even the one on angels she’d read four years ago. Dean watched her from where he was lying on the living room floor, staying completely still, wondering what the hell she was doing. She looked over the pile of books he had stacked in the corner. There was an obscure book that she could only see the corner of but was drawn to it. She set her small stack of books down on the corner of his desk before she carefully, yet quietly, moved the books so she could retrieve the one she was after. Maria stacked the books back up the way they were before she set that one on top of her stack and made her way back to her room. 

Dean quietly slipped out of his makeshift bed and followed her but he only made it to the hallway before she closed her door. He smirked, deciding to use this to his advantage, finally having something to hold over her.

In her room, she plopped down on her bed and looked at the top book, the one she’d been drawn to. It had an odd symbol on the cover. It was a circle that took up most of the cover with another circle close to it. Inside the circle were triangles that all pointed down and outward, away from the top and center. She ran her fingers over the image that was slightly raised off the cover, smiling a little. She set the other books to the side of her and opened it, finding it simple to read, having no clue that it was in another language.

Another two hours passed before she even realized it, “Shit…” she whispered, looking over at the clock, seeing that it read midnight, “Dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out I was up this late.”

She quickly stashed the books behind her bag, under her bed before she turned off her lamp and crawled under the covers. Maria didn’t even feel tired but sleep soon found her. Dreams of white hallways lined with doors, each leading to a different place, and a room with what looked like a white throne and white bench seats around the outside of the room played through her mind. She saw what looked like people but they didn’t feel like people and none of them could see her. They were just moving around, doing whatever job it was they were doing. 

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - When Dreams Are Too Real

Tag List @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[snapeaddict]

Ooh prompts! How about albus handling the post-lily year a bit too heavy-handedly, it goes south, and minerva is LIVID :3

Minerva focused

Loved this prompt, such a thing had been on my mind for quite a while as a continuation of one of my fics - I'll be posting it as the next chapter too. I have just changed the timeline, as I do not imagine Minerva vehemently defending Severus in their first year as colleagues. This is the beginning of his third year. I suppose I could write one where Severus gets furious too, but I am sure this would not work in his first year as a teacher; rather ten years later ahah

Power play

Well, let’s see. There were five essays left to grade, including that one still soaked in black ink – that is unfortunate, she had told Mr Longbourg before picking it up with the tip of her fingers. She lowered her gaze. Bugger. They were still stained.

Then there was patrolling to do for an hour, and some sewing to tackle, because her right sleeve was in dire need of mending – ah, and before that, a short meeting with Albus, to get the updated list of next year’s young recruits. She sighed heavily and turned around, heading towards the headmaster’s office. She hoped that this time, he would be mindful of his handwriting. Albus Dumbledore was a talented wizard, but he wrote as neatly as a muggle doctor when he was in a rush, and she spent enough time already trying to decipher her student’s poor attempts at calligraphy.

“Truffe au chocolat”, she said in a dry voice as soon as she stepped in front of the gargoyle. She felt a tinge of regret at the thought she was the one who had encouraged Albus to go back to Savoie in the Summer when two students behind her glanced over their shoulder, and started sniggering.

She climbed the flight of stairs quickly. The door to the office was opened. She was about to get in when the echo of a voice stopped her in her tracks: it was Albus’.

His voice was cold, almost menacing, unusually low. Her mind, still infatuated with the image of the adorable, foolish old man who had not ceased to speak about Chambéry chocolates since the beginning of the term two days ago, did not quite comprehend how that voice could be emanating from the same person. She froze completely.

“I expected better from you. Do you not see how Mr. and Mrs Sweeney will be valuable assets to us when the time comes, Severus? Is there any need to treat their son this way? Do you take pleasure in belittling children?”

“I don’t understand what you mean, headmaster. I have... told you before that your definition of a “harmless prank” differs from mine. Mr Sweeney deserves the detention, and I stand by my decision.”

“You are hounding the boy.”

“No. He is neither special nor important, and I intend to teach him so. You usually do not meddle with my decisions, headmaster. Am I to understand Mr Sweeney deserves special treatment?”

Minerva raised her head. That is bold of him.

“Mr Sweeney deserves equal treatment, Severus – all Gryffindors do. You will call off this detention at once.”

A pause.

“I cannot do that, headmaster. With all due respect, this would embolden the students to -”

A chair being pushed back.

“This is an order, Severus. I am not leaving you a choice. I am tired of your methods, and tired of the parents’ complaints. You cannot rule by Terror alone.”

“I have no other choice, headmaster”, Severus replied. It was subtle, but even Minerva did not miss it: his voice was trembling slightly.

There was another pause. She thought of clearing her throat, or perhaps turning back – but Albus’ voice rose again.

“You have a choice, Severus. You always do, and yet again you take the easy way out. You do not try. I don’t know what I am to do with you.”

There was no reply.

“Do not forget why I have taken you in, Severus. We are building a network. I will not have you jeopardize the school’s reputation or my plans because of your personal vendettas.”

“Headmaster-”

“Do not disappoint me again, my boy.” A pause, clearly planned. “You owe me as much.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

Both men turned their heads towards the threshold of the office, taken by surprise. Minerva, herself only half-conscious of her movements, made her way towards the desk.

“What, Albus, is the meaning of this?” she repeated, stopping right next to Severus. The young Potion Master was hunched in an armchair, his shoulders down in defeat; the headmaster, standing tall, was on the other side of the desk, his hands clenched on the edge of the wooden surface. He was looking at her with slight confusion.

“Minerva”, he greeted her. He took a step back from the desk. “I apologise; Severus and I had not planned for this meeting to last this long. Please, have a seat.”

The Potion Master immediately rose to his feet, his face a mask of complete indifference.

But his eyes, there was something in his eyes, pain, anger perhaps– Minerva caught his arm.

He froze, his gaze locked on her hand.

“Albus,’ Minerva said slowly, still peering at Severus, “of all the vile things I had to hear in my life, what you have just said to Severus must be one of the worst.”

There was a slight change in the headmaster’s countenance. He frowned, and his face contorted – it was both sudden and disconcerting.

“Minerva, please”, he told her quietly. “This only concerns Severus and I.”

“Severus was right to punish Mr Sweeney”, the deputy headmistress replied, still refusing to let go of Severus’ arm. “And I will make sure his parents pay for the acquisition of his classmate’s new cauldron. I often complain about Severus’ methods, they are rather harsh, I must admit – you have consistently insisted on each teacher’s right to their own modus operandi. You know that I disagree with that.” She paused. “You cannot speak like this.”

“This does not concern you”, the headmaster repeated blankly.

Severus’ face had turned as white as a sheet. He did not dare make eye contact with either of them, and looked obstinately at something in the far distance.

“But it does concern me, Albus”, Minerva replied, thin-lipped.

Her tone was hard to describe, many-layered and, or so it would seem to the careful listener, surprised at itself, respectful still, perfectly certain of its legitimacy.

Albus’ gaze made direct contact with his colleague’s.

“It does”, she went on. “Aren’t you the one who told us last year that the boy’s well-being concerned us? That this whole situation requires collective effort? Or does this only apply to us? Enlighten me.”

The headmaster was looking at her gravely. He had recovered from his surprise, regained his natural charisma: one glance from him and Minerva felt herself wavering, for a second incapable of justifying to herself why, out of the two men present, her enemy wasn’t Severus.

It should have been natural. She and Albus on one side of the office, the boy on the other. It should have been natural.

Was there something new?

“My dear professor, please be mindful of your tone”, Albus told her politely, though his voice was firm and low. “It is my responsibility to keep the staff in line, as you know.”

Minerva pursued her lips.

“I am aware. And does that involve humiliation? Power play? Albus… I have seen you do better.”

He flinched, and once again she felt her assurance falter – but she was right, and she wanted to tell him acidly, to mutter angrily, need I remind you that the boy is fragile?

And there was more. An awful feeling of discomfort, the uncovering of something truly vile that terrified her.

“As my deputy, I ask that you follow my lead, Minerva. I assure you there are no hard feelings between Severus and I.”

As if the mention of his name had broken his trance, the Potion Master finally freed himself from Minerva’s grasp, taking a step back. He cast a defying glance at Dumbledore, he could not help it – the headmaster raised an eyebrow. He lowered his head.

“There is no need for this, profess- Minerva. This is nothing serious”, he told her drily.

For a moment, the deputy headmistress looked as though she was going to burst out. Her jaw contracted painfully as she closed her mouth tightly, at a loss for words. She used a few precious seconds to calm down, careful for her silence to not last too long. She did not want to look upset: it was not the kind of person she was. She was composed, and grave, and rigid, and that was how she would handle the matter.

“Like I said before, Mr Sweeney deserves this detention. As his head of house, I insist on it.”

Dumbledore took a deep breath in. He, on the other hand, did not bother to hide his growing frustration.

“I have already established that this detention is not justified, Minerva. You will handle the matter accordingly.”

A pause.

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have heard me, Albus.”

A longer pause – one filled with tension, almost electric, terribly heavy. It was the first time Minerva was opposing her superior, her friend, so frontally; never before had any of their many disagreements turned into a violent confrontation.

Under his scrutiny she felt like a little girl, like the young teacher that had cried in his arms after the marriage of Dougal. He had been there too, when Dougal had died. The boundless empathy he had shown, the strong and reassuring hand he had extended to her each time - she had thought, vaguely, foolishly perhaps, that it had been extended to Severus also. Albus had taken in him, had defended him, had nursed him, and this all was genuine, she could swear it.

But there was something foul. A sort of… a repulsive kind of submission that Albus demanded as payment.

He liked the boy. But the boy was complicated: he was defiant, and stubborn. She had thought that, like her, when he showed signs of frustrations, he could simply not understand this behaviour. She had shared his annoyance. She had complained about the Potion Master, confronted him, called him out sometimes even during staff meetings. And this had been carried out, always, on equal footing. There had even been some cup of teas shared afterwards, in her office. But Albus did not expect to argue. He did not expect Severus to yield before reason. He expected him to yield, because he had been brought to the castle under such condition.

Was it servitude? When Severus had lowered his head just a moment ago?

“Severus”, Albus said slowly, “you are excused.”

The Potion Master was looking at Minerva, a strange expression on his face. It seemed as though he was going to say something, his muscles contracted in contradictory ways.

Finally, and not without violent struggle, he seemed to decide against speaking, nodded confusedly, and turned back.

He disappeared in the staircase. Albus’ gaze lingered on the threshold for a moment. When it returned to Minerva, he looked furious; still, when he spoke again, his voice was calm.

“What has gotten into you, Minerva?” he asked simply, his tone exaggeratedly casual.

He was looking at her intensely. She looked back; he held her gaze. For a moment she felt as though he was going through her mind, looking for clues – then, slowly, he sat down.

“Do not patronise me, Albus. This is not about me.”

“Indeed. And yet we have not closed the subject.”

She squinted slightly.

“You gave the boy a second chance. I thought it was generous of you. He does owe you his life. But you, of all people…” she was lost in thought for a second, searching for the right words. “Why do you hold this above his head? Why do you… expect him to bow before you for that reason alone? We have always spoken. Argued, even. You listened. Why do you not extend this favour to Severus?”

Albus smiled.

“I am glad to see that you now care for the boy, Minerva.”

“That is not what this is about!”

She was livid. Albus tilted his head, searching for her gaze once more.

“Answer me”, she said sternly.

He sighed.

“The boy needs to be disciplined, Minerva. For his own good.”

“Perhaps. But even when you disagreed with my choices, even when we held vastly different opinions, Albus; I was never, in all these years, under the impression that I could disappoint you.”

He frowned.

“You could never disappoint me, Minerva”, he replied, and for the first time since they had started talking there was a slight trace of weariness in his voice. “I care about Severus. He is important; more than he knows. I need to bring him in line.”

“You had countless colleagues – employees – that proved to be more or less insubordinate. It never really mattered. But Severus… he is different, is he not?”

The older man did not reply. He handed her a long parchment, which she recognized to be the list of addresses she had come to retrieve. She did not move.

“Indeed, Minerva. He is different.”

She put the parchment under her arm.

“I have disagreed with you countless times tonight, Albus. I have shown myself to be defiant, even insolent at times. You listened to me. You replied. You expected reason, and not mere hierarchy, to settle this matter.”

She glanced at Severus’ empty chair.

“You will extend this courtesy to the boy, Albus.”

_

It had been both an order and a plea.

Minerva McGonagall held on to a strict, crystal-clear image of Albus Dumbledore, one that comforted her even when her own moral compass wavered. She was brave, intransigent, heroic; but she was not fearless. One thing only could trouble her, and it was the disturbance of her strongest beliefs, of the pillars of her soul. For her sake, Albus Dumbledore needed to conform to the idea she had of him.

Severus had not. Severus had changed everything.

Her mind, her neatly ordered inner-self could not afford to be derailed again.

[rorywritesjunk]

(this shojo-esque lil story is almost done and I am still a lil surprised it's almost as long as the original one lol and what happens to Sunny is sort of based on something that happened to me(an injury to a hand is mentioned in this) but I didn't lose my job from it)

pt 1 + pt 2 + pt 3 + pt 4 + pt 5 + pt 6 + pt 7 + pt 8 + pt 9 + pt 10 + pt 11 + pt 12 + pt 13 + pt 13.5 + pt 14 + pt 15

pt 15

Since saying "I love you" to one another, Buggy didn't want to leave Sunny behind when it was time for them to set sail again even with promises that he'd visit her soon, that they wouldn't go so long without seeing each other. She insisted she needed to stay back and make sure she learned everything she could. The apprenticeship took ten years so she wouldn't be ready until she was 24. After that she could leave with him.

Buggy hated waiting. He wasn't patient.

Over two years he would come by for visits, each time filled with more confidence on how great of a captain he was becoming, seeing his face appearing on bounty posters with the reward amount starting to climb. It was something to be proud of. Roger would have been impressed, he was sure of it.

Shortly after his twentieth birthday he came by, having one of his men carry a chest with treasures for Sunny to impress her with in hopes of convincing her to come along with him sooner rather than later.

When he entered the shop, he prepared for her to tackle him, kiss him, and proclaim how much she loved and missed him.

So when it didn't happen, he was confused.

"She isn't here." Miss Pins told him as Buggy's head jerked around to look for her.

"What?!" Buggy demanded. "Where is she?!"

"She's been dismissed." The old woman told him as she closed her ledger. Her other two workers were watching and listening to the conversation.

"What do you mean been dismissed?!" Buggy snapped. "Where is she?! What happened?!"

"I dismissed her earlier today." She continued. "She's probably down by the docks waiting for a ship to go home." She came around the counter and pointed at the door. "If you don't have any work to be done then you can go, Captain."

He couldn't believe this. What had happened to cause this?

Swearing, he turned and left, his man following after him, still carrying the chest. How would he find Sunny? He didn't know where to start looking. The docks, but where? Cursing the old woman, he sent the pirate back to the ship while he went to look for Sunny. He didn't want to lose her.

~

Sunny sighed as she sat on a bench with a crepe in her hand while her two bags were beside her. It was tricky doing everything left handed but it was something she felt she would need to get used to. The accident a month ago that crushed her right hand upended her life. Who would want to have work done by a tailor who couldn't use both hands?

She was upset to be dismissed but she understood Miss Pins' reasoning for it. There was no way she could continue when she couldn't even hold a needle between her fingers. The nerves were messed up, making it difficult to control certain movements. She couldn't do the job she had been training for.

And what about Buggy? She had planned to join his crew and help him out. They told each other how they felt whenever they saw each other, they were in love, but he wouldn't want someone useless on his ship. She would just have to go home and find something to do in the village. Maybe she could be a teacher or something for the kids. That wouldn't require a functioning right hand.

She just missed him so much. Sunny wished she could have told Buggy that she was going home. Would Miss Pins tell him?

She took a bite of her crepe and sniffed. She would miss these too.

"Sunny!"

She looked up, eyes widening when she saw Buggy. He was red in the face, out of breath, and hunched over when he got close to her. She scooted over on the bench for him and he dropped down beside her, slumping against her as he tried to catch his breath.

"I... Thought... I missed you." He managed to get out in between gasps.

"Oh, I have a few days until the ship leaves." Sunny told him. "Um... Why are you here?"

Buggy straightened up and grabbed her shoulders. "Because I love you! That damn old hag told me she dismissed you so I had to come find you!"

"Buggy..."

"If she doesn't want you then you can come with me!" He insisted. "I don't care why you got dismissed, I want you to be with me!"

Sunny looked down at her lap, fighting back tears that were threatening to spill. "I'm useless, Buggy. You wouldn't have any use for me on your crew."

"On my crew?" He repeated. "I don't want you to join my crew, I want you to be my wife, dammit! I want you on my ship to be with me! You're not useless and I'll kill anyone who says otherwise!"

His... Wife?

"What?" Sunny looked confused. "I thought you wanted me to join your crew to help out..."

"That was before I decided I wanted to marry you!" Buggy exclaimed. "I want you on the ship as my wife, not a member of the crew, got that?! You won't have to do anything! You can just... Just be with me, that's all I want!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really!" He was still out of breath, finding it a little difficult to get his point across without sounding too harsh. "I want you to be my wife, damn the old hag, okay? I don't know or care why you aren't working, I just want you with me!"

She stared at him before holding her crepe up for him to take a bite. He looked at her funny but took the offer, helping himself before she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"I want you to be my husband, Buggy." She smiled as he choked on the food. "I'll marry you."

[j0kers-light]

have you considered taking requests? Your writing is wicked good and I get it if you don’t. If you’re interested/ I was feeling a role reversal with a male Y/N being the civilian to joker’s female?

Hello anon I love you so so much!! First things first I never considered taking requests (I didn’t think anyone cared😭😭😭) but THEN I read yours and I went down a spiral! You didn’t give me any details or perimeters, just an idea and I just took that as a sign to go crazy go stupid! It is my first time writing for a M!reader so please forgive me if I screwed that aspect up! I got carried away and I’m not ashamed!!

I’m so sorry this is almost three weeks old! I promise I didn’t put you on the back burner.. I just didn’t now where to go at one point SO! without further ado *drum roll*

Role Reversal

Please note I was kinda inspired by The Neighborhood. I can envision Joker walking into this song sooo bad! Enjoy! 🖤✨

It was like any other day. Long hours spent sorting and moving heavy shipments within the warehouse.

Everyone had a role and stuck to it while maintaining playful banter whenever there was downtime in between work. You worked third shift, being wide awake when the common civilian was fast asleep. You handled the unseen portion of society's cycle of commerce. If you didn't work, these important goods would never arrive on time to where they needed to go.

A lot could happen overnight. It was your goal to make sure it did.

It didn't matter what was inside the boxes, your job was to prepare and load them into trucks. In your division just about everything from household electronics to stationary could pass through.

Tonight you signed up for misc. overtime. Ten hour shifts with your fellow co-workers packing who knows what. It could be anything passing right under your nose.

Your manager; who's attitude was infamous within the warehouse and aptly nicknamed Frost, vaguely confirmed some goods were hot and reminded everyone to keep their heads down and not ask any questions tonight.

This was Gotham City. Not everything being moved was legal but a job was a job and this one paid the bills very well. You learned to keep your mouth shut a long time ago about the things you saw. The company had lawyers on standby should there be any liability issues. You wouldn't need them.

You were almost done with your shift without touching any hot items when a new order was assigned to your line in redacted print.

"Great." You sighed and waited for the goods to arrive. In the meantime, you read over the shipment details.

They were bound for a southern shipping container truck. It was common knowledge that the south warehouse processed all of the illegal goods. Walking back there freaked you out and you didn't like to stay longer than necessary to get a job done there.

The new order consisted of ten big wooden crates with ominous fragile stickers plastered all over. You programmed your mind to ignore the contents and simply do your job.

"Whatcha think is inside of 'em, huh, Y/n?" Your buddy Jazz asked. He'd been with the company for three years and still asked stupid questions. It was a miracle he was still employed.

You matched the serial numbers to your portable power pad and scoffed. "Don't know, don't care."

You read the loading bay, 3B, and called it out. "On me. Three, two..." You were flexing your muscles to lift on one when a loud blast came from the main entrance.

It brought with it a cloak of smoke but you could hear the various shouts and rapid gunfire closing in on your location. "Jazz! Get down!"

You dove to tackle him and avoided the spray of bullets that hit the wall behind you.

"Yo! What the f__k man!?" Jazz shoved you away to scramble to his feet. You were confused as to why he was so calm until approaching footsteps stole your attention.

They were calculated and sharp on the ear, almost like heels, which made you stop and think.

What sane woman would walk through gunfire? Let alone be at a warehouse this late at night. Regardless, three figures emerged through the smoke.

One was a tall man who carried an assault rifle and another who preferred a standard pistol— but both flanked a woman whose presence stopped your heart.

Gotham City's most notorious psychopath was here and she looked every bit the crime boss she claimed to be.

Her stilettos could kill a man while simultaneously adding height to her petite frame. The tailored pinstripe suit she wore was a deep plum with subtle details but it was nothing compared to the complex character wearing it.

Joker's long hair was dyed her signature forest green and tonight she kept it pushed back— so her face could be seen.

The scars. They were hideous and yet one couldn't look away no matter how hard they tried. Some accounts reported an ex lover did it, another rumor claimed it was self-inflicted. Why any woman would carve her own face was beyond you.

Paired with her ghastly white makeup and dramatic smokey eyeshadow (that accented her light green eyes) she looked every bit the scary clown found in movies.

Joker came to a stop in front of Jazz and for a moment you thought she was gonna kill him outright until she smiled wide.

Her glossy black lipstick highlighted her unnaturally white teeth. "Well, well, well! Someone's been a very good boy."

Seeing coverage of her on tv was one thing opposed to the real deal. So many cops and eyewitnesses claimed she sounded like the devil, low and fierce, a true menace when demanding things yet if you closed your eyes, there was a slight childlike quality to her voice that put your mind at ease.

Delicate and alluring until she proved otherwise.

"Y-Yeah, I told ya I'm good for it! Don't believe me? It's all here." Jazz swept his arm towards the crates you two were supposed to be moving.

It took you all of three seconds to realize he was in on this. You decided to stay hidden behind a nearby forklift and listen. Joker nodded at her lackey to inspect. Thankfully he only cared about checking the goods and not looking over the side to find you. You saw him nod and move along to check the other crates down the line.

Jazz must've been promised compensation beforehand or he was simply one of the most cockiest dealers you ever seen. "Soooo. I helped secure the goods, gave solid intel." Joker's eyes darted over to him. "What's in it for me eh?"

Joker quickly replied. "I don't follow."

It was too quiet in the warehouse. The lackey finished his inspection and gave the all clear to his boss before resuming his flanking position. Everything was accounted for.

More men appeared from nowhere and began manually moving the crates into the 3B container. You looked on in horror as they added two more large crates into the container before closing it shut.

The truck was already backed into the loading bay. It wouldn't be hard for them to drive off with whatever was inside. What was Jazz thinking, messing with this lot? You peeked out of your hiding spot at the shakedown wrapping up. They were blocking the only exit and from here, things weren't looking too good for Jazz. He was outgunned and outmanned.

Joker had a frown on her face and from your position, you saw her acrylic nails twitch on the trigger of her gun.

The safety was off.

You knew Jazz had a hot temper and it didn't take much to set him off. You saw the signs in his posture. He took a deep breath and ticked his head to the side before speaking. "I'm askin' heh, where's my cut?"

You facepalmed. Jazz was incredibly stupid and Joker thought the same.

"Oh. Oh! You want a uhhh.. percentage! You hear that? He wants a cut!" Joker directed at her lackey holding the rifle. He chuckled and shook his head at the audacity.

Her heels clicked loudly on the warehouse floor as she walked closer to Jazz. Without warning, she grabbed his face and used her other hand to brandish a knife to it.

"You wanna cut? I'll give you a cut. You think I'd pay a lowlife informant like you?! Ha! Now, don't get me wrong. I'm veryyyy thankful for the intel. Really! I am! But uhh.. I don't need you anymore."

Joker spoke with such conviction she almost sounded sympathetic using her airy voice. It was like an angel speaking on the devil's behalf.

"And when I don't need things, they become loose ends! You wanna know what I do with loose ends?" She paused for dramatic effect.

Jazz looked ready to piss his pants but still had the balls to answer her. "N-No. No I don't."

"Of course you don't know! So lemme tell you!"

You began to hyperventilate to the sound of Jazz choking on his own blood. A feminine giggle was also heard right before your co-worker's body slumped to the ground.

"I get rid of 'em." Joker replied to no one. "You three handle the rest and move out."

They all replied with their affirmatives and the area suddenly became vacant. You thought they were gone and opened your eyes.

You were still behind the forklift but took a peek around. The coast was clear. You breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight's shift was insane and you didn't know how to proceed any of it. How would you report this to HR?

You turned around to catch your breath but you saw Joker crouching down in front of you. "Holy shh.."'

Your heart was in your throat watching her stare at you. Up close like this you could really appreciate her domineering presence in all of its glory. She applied both fear and seduction to rule Gotham City and it worked wonders in her favor.

Before her disfigurement you had no doubt she was beautiful. Hell, to an extent she still was.

Full lips stained a jet black curled naturally at the corners. Joker had a heart shaped face with soft features but her eyes... God, her eyes. They drew you in with their pale color and they were framed by thick, dark lashes.

They brushed against her high cheekbones with each exaggerated blink. "That's it. Breathe for me now..."

Her voice coached you into regulating your heartbeat. She didn't seem hostile at present but you knew her reputation. Her mood could flip at the drop of a hat.

"Better?" She asked. Your voice hadn't returned yet so you nodded frantically. It seemed to appease her. "Good, that's good."

Her hand came up to cup your cheek and brush some of your h/c hair off of your forehead. She cooed at you gently when you flinched away from her touch.

"Now, now. None of that." Her heavy lidded eyes were all you saw this close up. You chose to ignore Jazz's blood splattered across her face. She smelled like lighter fluid and roses; an obnoxiously sweet smell that clouded your senses.

You began to crave more of it against your better judgment.

She glanced down at your uniform and spotted your ID. A purple nail scraped the plastic surface right above your heart. "What are you so afraid of, Y/N L/N?" She even pronounced it right on the first try!

You stared straight into her eyes and answered truthfully. "You."

You were graced with her smile. It didn't matter that it was slicker than oil and also the same shade, it was the last thing you saw before you lost consciousness.

Your body felt groggy as if it were moving through molasses.

There were lights overhead that kept fading in and out. It felt like a weight was on your body. Like down feathers you wanted to cuddle into. Sure it was comforting but something told you the pressure it was wrong. It didn't belong there.

Your instincts were correct when it kept touching your body unprovoked. It glided over your chest and arms and moved to the nape of your neck almost affectionately.

You shook your head, groaning, which only made the feeling worse. The unknown was kissing you and you couldn't deny that it felt absolutely amazing.

"Wait..." you slurred. Your hands moved through the heavy fog and came to a rest on a set of hips.

They began moving in earnest once you squeezed them tight. No amount of force could make them stop. Overtime they grew tired of your useless efforts and relocated your hands above your head. Then all bets were off.

You protested but a gentle voice shushed you. A lingering kiss burned your cheek as you slipped back into unconsciousness.

You woke up in the back of an SUV. The lights you saw before were street lamps shining through the sunroof.

Your head was still foggy but all of the night's events came back to you when a weight shifted on your chest. You looked down in horror as a head of green hair nuzzled in closer to you. A rush of roses hit you right as Joker glanced up at you.

How could someone so beautiful cause so much mass destruction? Surely this was a dream.

Without thinking about the consequences, you brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. Two seconds later she had your wrist pinned to the headrest and a knife at your throat.

"Aht aht, don't get all sentimental on me alright?" She eyed your lips hungrily until you threw all caution to the wind.

"S-Sorry it's just, you're so pretty. Wait, f__k! That's not true! Wait, you are.. but I mean that's not.." She watched you struggle with words with a raised brow.

"And I'm the crazy one." Joker murmured under her breath. This was pathetic to watch. "Spit. It. Out!"

You looked at her, ready to reply, when the entire SUV suddenly lurched forward. You were protected by your seatbelt but Joker almost went airborne if not for your quick response. You caught her around the waist and dragged her back down before she was sent flying towards the front.

"Have you ever heard of a seatbelt before?" You asked offhandedly. She rolled her eyes at your lame joke.

"Hey Boss! Your lover boy is here!" The driver shouted over his shoulder. It was like a switch went off.

Whatever cheeky moment you had with Joker was cast aside, the second her crush/enemy was confirmed tailing the SUV. "Bats?"

Joker instantly got excited and dove forward to program the sunroof open. The vehicle was going over eighty mph and the sudden wind spun her seaweed hued hair about like a hurricane, giving her perfect bed head vibes.

She ducked down to ask you. "How do I look?"

Your e/c eyes traveled from her toned legs in those sexy heels, to her clenched waist, all the way up to her deadly smile waiting for your opinion.

You couldn't lie no matter how dangerous it was to tell the truth. You were a warm blooded male for crying out loud and Joker was every bit an ideal female. Well, minus the face and personality. But her body?

"H-Hot. You look.. hot."

You waited with bated breath to be stabbed or worse, but Joker simply laughed and stood on the seat to poke her head out the sunroof.

What followed was typical Batman and Joker behavior. She taunted the caped cruiser while shouting out declarations of love, (it didn't make you jealous..) while firing off an array of guns which surprisingly included a bazooka, at the hero.

You panicked when the front seat passenger loaded it up inside the SUV before handing it off to Joker. "Hey hey hey hey! What the f—!"

The shockwave it made as it went off caused the SUV to lose control for a few scary minutes and it left you little choice but to wrap your arms around Joker's legs, lest she hurt herself in the chaos.

Her jovial laughter sent a clear message that she was having way too much fun to care about safety.

If Batman's swanky tank of a car wasn't enough, two GCPD cruisers flanked the speeding SUV and rammed both sides at once. And poor you was caught in the middle, swearing at the top of your lungs. More gunshots decorated the body of the car, one of them piercing through the back of the passenger's seat.

Joker's men in the front were mocking your attempts to get her to stop this madness and pull over.

She kicked your arms away and continued her antics until you had enough. You never thought things through during intense situations. You adopted tunnel vision until the problem was resolved.

You tuned out the police screaming to ceasefire as you poked your head out of the sunroof. Your voice lowered an octave as you yanked Joker's arm down. "Get back inside the car now!"

Her minty eyes were wide like saucers witnessing your dominant display and if you were more focused, you would've seen the incoming missile hurling towards the SUV. It obviously came from the Batmobile and in any other scenario, the shell would've been harmless.

Joker was a tough cookie and so were her goons. They could walk away from anything unscathed. You couldn't.

The missile hit dead on, sending the SUV swerving straight into a GCPD car and both flipped over multiple times upon impact. The crash site was hauntingly quiet.

The other police cars set up a perimeter a respective distance as the Batmobile screeched to a halt behind it. As broken glass and smoke settled, you came too fairly quickly. More quick thinking on your part saved you and Joker's life as you pulled her inside and shielded her head the moment her driver shouted, incoming!

You wished you kept your seatbelt on but things weren't always perfect in near death situations.

You took majority of the impact and knocked out your shoulder to save Joker's more fragile body. You lost your grip on her during the second roll and you had to wait until the SUV came to a stop, on its driver's side, to call out to her.

All she did was groan and turn her head away. Not good.

You saw a sea of flashing lights and wisely crawled out the door for help. This was supposed to be an average night at work, clocking overtime, not witnessing your co-worker make a bad arms deal and be actively involved in a high speed police chase. Wait till your friends heard about this on the eleven o'clock news.

You were still wearing your work uniform but the police still shouted at you to stop moving and put your hands on your head. You didn't get offended; you did emerge from The Joker's getaway vehicle. You could be hostile for all they knew.

Orders were orders and you raised your bloody hands up slowly but that didn't stop your mouth from moving.

"My name is Y/N L/N I work at Dixon Shipping Co. I'm unharmed! She's inside and unresponsive! Please... do.. something.."

You sighed as two officers made their way to your side. Too little too late. They fell dead from two gunshots each. It caused another wave of panic and you turned to watch a disoriented Joker pick off the remaining cops like flies.

Her head was bleeding and she was missing a shoe but god did she look drop dead gorgeous in her element. Her hair was a mess blocking her vision, but she made it to your side without any issue.

You thought the worst when she yanked you up to your feet and shoved the barrel of her gun to your head. Great, so her mood had turned sour, again.

This time Batman himself entered the scene. "Let him go, Joker." His modified voice sounded way cooler on GCN..

Joker wheezed out a laugh. "Oooooh! Is my Batsy jealous?! Don't know why, since you SHOT A MISSILE AT ME!" She pointed her gun at the dark knight. "You... hurt me.. Bats. All the time! Over and over! Y/n would never hurt me. Right, Y/n?"

Batman gave you a look that clearly meant, play along or die.

You watched as another fleet of cops arrived on scene. Batman waved them back. Joker was far more hostile than she'd ever been and her head injury was only making her current episode worse. She kept blinking her eyes and swaying on the spot, but she was in control as long as a weapon was in her hands.

You played along and made sure to establish physical contact with her. "That's right J-Joker. I would never, um h-hurt you. Ya gotta believe that baby." The endearment left a sour taste on your tongue but if she was buying the lie, hey.

You felt the gun waver on your temple and you cautiously moved to twist Joker around so she was facing you. She felt so small wrapped up in your arms, you never wanted to let her go.

You fussed over her wild hair and sucked your teeth at the nasty gash found on her head. "I told you to wear a seatbelt."

"Shut up." Joker groaned. You were only one privy to the tiny smile pinching at her black lips.

"I'm giving you one last warning, Joker. Let. Him. GO!"

And all of your hard work went down the drain.

Joker screamed and restrengthened her grip on the gun, now pointed squarely at your forehead.

"Or what Bats? Huh? Or what? You're gonna punish me? Ohhh I do love it when you do that." Joker tipped her head back and laughed. Each tap of her gun to your head felt like a code but you wrote it off as a coincidence.

Maybe she was growing on you or maybe she was just predictable. Fat chance of that. But either way you felt safe being held at gunpoint by this madwoman. You knew she wouldn't pull the trigger. Her finger was nowhere near it.

"I'm not here to play games, Joker."

Joker scoffed at her adversary. Batman was no fun; you however were. Joker gave you a lazy, pained smile and out of the blue kissed you right there in the middle of the street. You were too tired to deny her.

A spotlight highlighted the bizarre moment and made you pull away to look up at it.

A helicopter was hovering above and within seconds a rope was tossed over, headed your way. Joker used your dazed expression (her kisses were that electrifying) and the shock factor from her audience to grab onto the rope. She fire her automatic at the police department to make her grand escape. They never saw it coming.

One bullet clipped Batman's breastplate, stunning him if anything, but the effect was all the same. It bought her some time to make it a few feet off the ground to get away.

Joker's sultry laugh quickly drew Batman's attention. "Have fun boys! Don't hurt each other too much fightin' over little 'ol me!"

More gunshots and laughter rained down as you dove for cover and stumbled across a broken piece of mirror. Black lipstick marks were all over your face and neck. No wonder GCPD officers saw you as a threat before.

Joker sent a clear message: you were her new plaything. And you were quite fine with that new title.

[randomfoggytiger]

"Doesn't Make Him Less of a Miracle"

(Fictober, Day 30)

Fictober's almost over, and I haven't tackled the very genre that lured me into fic in the first place: S9 AU.

*****

William took after his father in many ways: he was very bright, unnaturally articulate for his age, and immaculately opportunistic: a born-and-raised schemer (though said schemes were often undercut by his innate inability to lie believably-- which Mulder ribbed Scully about, mercilessly.) He was also an incredibly fast runner with a propensity to dive head-first into the nearest kerfuffle. 

And Fox Mulder, the intelligent progenitor of this intelligent child, exploited that propensity to its fullest whenever he needed a few hours of unbroken concentration. Thus, Skippy’s Bouncy Castle and Ball Pit Stadium became the local haunt for the Mulder-Scully family’s operations. 

Alternating his afternoons between sifting through poached documents and worming his way into various mummy or nanny groups, Mulder learned just as much about thumb sucking habits as he did the ever-changing factions and movements of the crumbled Consortium empire. It wasn't a leap to apply his hostage negotiation tactics to toddler tantrum mitigation; and, to his surprise, he seemed more popular outside of the Bureau than in it, constantly getting interrupted by a child or their guardian with yet another situation that needed diffusing.

But like all aspects in life, there were prices to be paid for peace; and little William Mulder-Scully chose closing time on an already hectic Monday to exact that price.

*****

“Willaaaaaaaaaaaaay!” Mulder dropped his hands out of their airhorn position, pivoting to watch, helplessly, as hordes of well-behaved, snot-nosed, and spit-curled children of all ages wobbled out after their parents. The very picture of the Rockwell American dream. Staff members were whipping out mops or picking up stray toys-- one particularly under-tipped teenager glowered at him from her post near the light switch-- and still William did not appear from the midst of the ball pit. 

For a split second the old fear rushed irrationally back, cold sweat breaking out on his neck, "Fox!" clamoring in his mind-- but Will’s sudden outburst of giggles grounded him in reality, shook him involuntarily with relief. Deal with it another day.  Annoyance at his unexpected fear-- and annoyed he was annoyed-- spurred Mulder into action.

"Will, outta the ball pit-- we gotta go pick up food.” ‘Pick up food’: the universal unspoken for quick-and-easy greasy garbage from the nearest burger joint. Another thing father and son had in common.  

His precious miracle cackled. “Daddy, I’m a sea monster. You have to come hunt me.” 

“Sir--”

Mulder jolted at the sudden, vicious tug on his sleeve. Light switch teenager, frosted lips curling even further downward, had somehow learned teleportation and wasted that ability by scaring the daylights out of him. “The ball pit's closed. Grab your kid and go.” 

The ghosts of each and every one of Scully’s long-suffering eyerolls flashed through his mind; and he counted them, likely by tens, in an attempt to remain calm. Losing his cool exterior while hopped up on too many cups of coffee would only damage any potential future discount-- not to mention the years of ammunition Scully would have on him as their son inched slowly towards the plague of puberty.

“Yeah, just a minute, my--”

Losing interest in Light Switch Girl, Mulder covered the last few feet in a light jog, skidding across a wet patch on the floor but recovering his footing with a couple of hairy maneuvers.

Red ball, green ball, blue ball, green, green, blue, purple? Red, blue-- 

Red hair. The sea monster was just submerging on the other end of the pool, upgrading his chortles to belly laughter. 

“William, we can play the sea monster game tomorrow, but we’ve got to leave now.” Mulder was pleased to note that his son’s head paused, recognizing that ‘William’ and ‘got to’ were a big deal compared to ‘Will’ and ‘gotta’. The head bobbed up and down, wavering between losing the battle with honor or fighting the war with outright rebellion. 

Since logic seemed to be winning over wheedling-- a trait Scully would rib him over, mercilessly-- Mulder doubled down. “C’mon, Buddy, the workers have to clean up and go home. They want to eat, spend time with their families. …Watch a movie.” Well, a little wheedling wouldn't hurt.

The sea monster was drifting closer, his thoughtful Scully scowl and blue eyes rising above three green balls perfectly resembling algae-speckled rocks. What are the odds. “Is it… dirty in here, too?” 

YES. “Yeah, Will, it’s pretty gross in there. Probably has a few cooties, too.” 

His son may have had the genes of a scientist, but he hadn’t quite figured out the finer points of germ pathology. William breeched, fast, which gave his dad scant seconds of catch time before nearly faceplanting on the floor. “Cooties!” he chanted while wildly flinging his arms about, forcing Mulder the Triumphant to dodge a few accidental nose wallops.

Cooties really did come in handy. 

“Sir--”

Great. Light Switch Girl was back. 

“--your laptop and bag were moved to the front desk. If you could please grab them, we need to finish closing up.” She crossed her arms, sneered at his wiggling son, and began to brusquely tap her foot. 

In moments like these, Mulder wondered why he bothered trying to save the planet.  

“Thanks.” Readjusting Will-- who was attempting to climb, face first, down his back-- and offering an equally charming lip twitch of his own, Mulder skidded his retreat across the room, sorted and collected his things-- with the hand not currently grabbing his four-year old’s ankle-- and hoisted all of his belongings-- sea monster included-- over both shoulders before making his grunting exit. 

“Willy, I think you’re getting too big to be able to lug around anymore. Soon you'll have to help drag me back to the car.” 

Sea monsters and cooties forgotten, William puzzled this new idea while getting situated in his car seat. Mulder let him pursue it in silence-- another neat wrangling trick-- as he buckled, unbuckled, and rebuckled straps; then, since the gears were still turning in his son's head, he slid the bag onto the floor and slid himself into the front seat. The driver's safety belt was clicked into place when Will jerked upward, waving his hands and beaming at his father in the rearview mirror.

“It’s not me, it's the laptop! It becomes heavier every time you save another part of the world!” 

Mulder chuffed a laugh, enamored with the flawless logic of the young and uneducated. “You’re too smart for your old man,” he assured, proudly. 

“Can we get chicken?”

Just like that-- subject over and burgers out the window. “Sure, buddy. My treat.” 

*****

Fighting Colonization, catching sea monsters, and hunting down KFC may not, exactly, be a day in the life of the average American family; but it certainly enabled him to strum up an interesting moral out of the Flukeman and its excitement to go home. On second thought, Will would probably be incentivized to try hitchhiking to the ocean himself.

Now there's something Scully and I can't take credit for: possible obsessions with sewer tanks.

Somehow, Mulder didn't think she'd like that, either.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[charlenasaxen]

Favorite Quotes - The Brother's Hawthorne

“and I am definitely not writing a book entitled The Care and Feeding of Your Broody Twenty-Year-Old Brother.”

"Are you asking me to send you a picture of the incredibly tight leather pants you had to wear"

and she had a bad habit of not tormenting his brothers.

“It’s me, Grayson.”

Protecting things that mattered was what Grayson Hawthorne did

about brotherly concern and cheesesteak.

I bet you never have to break into bank vaults. You just look at them, and boom, they’re open!”

unless its occupant had the same card Grayson had just displayed.

Hardly likely.

or I’m going to fill your voicemail with yodeling.

The second text was a reminder: I do not excel at yodeling.

Grayson asked quietly. “For your birthday?” First yours, then mine.

“With a splash of elderflower liqueur.”

forcing his opponent to close the distance between them to take it. Grayson let his lips curl slightly. “I know.”

Deciding to save himself the trouble—and the yodeling

“Nash,” he answered loudly.

“Lies!”

“On whom am I about to hang up?”

“I am not her boyfriend,” Grayson said emphatically.

tuned out the sound of perfect Grayson’s beautiful music. If he was going to be the best, he had to want it.

He began to climb.

He lifted his gaze to the Proprietor’s.

And he winked.

“it’s one of the newer earldoms. Created in eighteen seventy-one.”

“That doesn’t help.”

he didn’t look like he was playing.

“Win it back,” he told Jameson, “and someday, I’ll leave it to you.”

flipped the shower on as hot as it would go, and stripped off his shirt.

He watched the bathroom mirror fog over, watched his own image slowly disappear

his skin, still pink from the punishing heat of the shower, was now chilled.

"blond and broody. Would it help if I described his super sharp cheekbones?”

He had never squeaked in his life, but some things could not be helped.

had to fight to keep from seeing Avery’s face when he said it.

I am making her up as I speak. “She was buying limes.” Limes? Grayson cursed himself.

Gigi held up a hand, which was mildly terrifying since she was turning left at the same time.

Grayson lied to her, and it felt like lying to his brothers.

His baby arms were swaddled to his sides. A hat had been pulled down

“He’s our brother,” Gigi replied.

Grayson stared him down. “Will that be a problem?”

Ten minutes later, he walked out of the bank holding a briefcase.

he heard the audible click of a gun.

You’re not going to shoot me, Mattias. Grayson didn’t turn around.

he came to a picture of a hand on the hilt of a sword. A longsword. Avery’s hand.

didn’t make her matter any less, didn’t make what they did have matter less.

patting him down and realizing belatedly that he was wearing only a swimsuit.

“You don’t have pockets. Only abs.” She frowned. “Brothers should not have abs.”

“I agree,” Xander said solemnly. “Put on some clothes, man!”

Jameson wordlessly held it up. Grayson assumed the proper stance. The heel of his hand hit the board just above the crack, and it split.

came to stand in front of Grayson, right next to her twin, and for a split second, his heart clenched.

Grayson swallowed. “That was the Hawthornes getting theirs.”

One very cramped game of musical chairs later, Grayson continued issuing orders

Grayson arched a brow. “Do I look like a kid to you?” There was a reason he’d started wearing suits as a teenager.

“It was made with love,” Xander told him. “Just like I tackle with love.”

“No tackling,” Nash said

You are very popular with the valets.

Grayson almost grinned.

He wasn’t Grayson, who could command respect as easily as he could breathe, who was Avery’s right hand

My uncle would have come for me. Jameson swallowed again.

thanks to Grayson, Jameson had plenty of practice at ignoring orders.

“Grayson.” Green eyes met Grayson’s ice-blue ones. “I dare you to admit that you’re not okay.”

“We do that,” he told her quietly. “Survive.”

Avery smiled, a barely there hint of a smile

Grayson had dressed for the occasion: expensive suit, expensive shoes, a black-and-gold Rolex

“That’s the combination to your safe,” he clarified helpfully.

“A Hawthorne,” Grayson replied coolly, “never has nothing.”

She’s not leaving. I haven’t lost her.

“I like my little sister,” he told her.

“I know.”

Behind one of the bookshelves, there was a hidden staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, there was a Davenport desk.

“Let’s save my Alice’s judgment for when you’re done.”