#been together for so long n still goin strong !!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hey!! i love your fics so much. i was wondering if you could do a fic starting with loads of angst where daryl x reader are fighting when all of a sudden she drops the bombshell she’s pregnant. results in loads of fluff :) ♥️

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 9/pre-whisperers

― summary: if it was any other time, you wouldn't have cared that daryl was constantly away, but now that you needed him, it seemed as though he was constantly out of your reach.

― warnings: arguing, angst, pregnancy, hurt comfort, emotional hurt comfort, the ups and downs of pregnancy.

― wc: 1217

⋆ a/n: this was a touching write, and honestly, i had a blast with writing the angst. i know i know, call me a heathen, but there's only so much fluff and smut i can write before i wanna write some angst too. never fear, there is fluff in here!

masterlist | AO3

You don’t remember the last time you and Daryl were in the same room together, let alone romantically. You knew he was busy with helping and restoring the communities after the war with the Saviors. Even though it had been a long time since then, there was still a lot that there was left to do due to Rick’s determination, and with Daryl being his right-hand man, he was gone for hours, weeks, or even days at a time. You wouldn’t have been as bothered by the distance if you didn’t miss him, and you didn’t have some big news breathing down your neck.

With it having been a while since you and your boyfriend had been intimate with one another, you knew you were about two or three months along, at least that’s what Siddiq had said. Every day you were forced to watch him go outside the walls and risk his life, and it made you grow anxious. You were a big ball of hormones, unable to figure out how to navigate these new emotions without lashing out.

You were sensitive and pretty much cried at any minor inconvenience; your sense of smell was all weird, your body constantly ached, and you had to pee… a lot. It was like hell, and you couldn’t help but take it out on your poor unsuspecting boyfriend. You felt bad that you hadn’t told him that you were pregnant yet, but he was never around long enough for you to find the right time to do so.

Yesterday had been one of the days where Daryl had finally come home for the night, cuddling up with you in bed. It was like his presence had been able to soothe you throughout this emotional rollercoaster, your body strangely corresponding to his. When it was time to get up, he was already dressed and ready to go, but you longed for more.

“Why can’t you just stay home today?” You asked as you followed him down the stairs and to the door.

“I already told ya, Rick needs me.” He explained as if it was obvious. “What if I need you?” You asked, your shoulders slumping as you shrunk into yourself. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones, but your voice broke, tears beginning to burn at the back of your eyes. “Yer strong, you don’ need me.” He approached you so that he could place a kiss on your forehead, but you avoided it by backing away from him.

“Go,” You said quietly, “He needs you.”

You didn’t say another word as you descended back up the stairs once more, the feeling of his gaze burning holes into your back until you were out of his sight where he now stood at the foot of the stairs. You didn’t allow yourself to cry until you heard the front door slam shut, harder than he should have. You had never felt more alone despite being surrounded by your friends and family.

It wouldn’t be until two days later that he would come home, and he looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes were darker, his wrinkles more prominent as he frowned at you. You were busy getting ready to visit Siddiq for an ultrasound. You remained quiet until he asked, “Where are ya goin’?” You just shrugged. “To see Siddiq.” You were fruitlessly trying to button up your jeans to no avail. You were already frustrated, and his constant questioning was only making you angrier.

“Why? Are ya hurt?” You and Siddiq were friends, but not really the type to hangout one-on-one, and with him being a doctor, it was only apparent that you may have some sort of illness. “No, Daryl. I’m fine. It’s just a checkup.” When your eyes met in the full-length mirror you were getting dressed in front of, you could see that he didn’t believe you. “So ya do feel sick.” He concluded on his own. “Daryl, please, enough with the questionnaire, okay?” You sighed, settling on just zipping up your fly and pulling down your shirt to cover the fact that you couldn’t button them up. “Not until ya tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you even care anyways? Don’t you have something to build or scout or find or whatever the fuck it is you do when you leave for days on end.” It was then that Daryl had finally understood. “Is this what this is all about?” He asked in exasperation. “Were bulildin’ somethin’ here. I can’t be around ya all the time ‘cause I’m too busy tryna make this place safe for ya!” This is the least understanding you had ever been throughout your relationship, and you hated yourself for it, but it was as if all your thoughts were turning against you. “I don’t need you to be around me all the time! All I need to know is that I can rely on you for when…” You instantly stopped what you were going to say, allowing the volume of your voice to die out.

“For when what?”

“For when the baby comes.”

A beat of silence.

“Wha’?” Was all that Daryl could muster up. “I’m pregnant, Daryl. I’m pregnant and I’m going to see Siddiq so that I can get an ultrasound. There, are you happy?” You asked in defeat.

He approached you cautiously, like he was afraid that he would scare you if he were to move too fast.

“How long have ya known?” His voice level matched yours, a quiet and defeated as he took your hand in his. “Almost a month.” You confessed shamefully. “And ya didn’ tell me?” You shook your head, your grip on him tightening as he tugged you into his arms. “I wanted to, but you were never home, and I didn’t just want to drop it on you so I… I don’t know.” You had begun to tear up before full blown sobbing into his chest. “Everything about me has been so out of whack, and- and I have to pee a lot and everything smells so weird and I cry all the time and I get angry for no reason…” Daryl shushed your babbling, gently swaying you in order to try and calm you down.

“I got ya sunshine. Ya ain’ alone no more.”

You didn’t know that’s what you needed to hear until you did, and it was as if they caused your body to go lax in his hold. “Can I- can I come with ya to this ultrasound thing?” You let out an airy laugh, nodding against his chest. “Of course, you can, D.”

Seeing your baby for the first time was surreal, and with Daryl by your side, you could tell that he was still trying to wrap his head around this whole situation too.

“One more month then you’ll be able to tell what gender it is.” Siddiq said with a satisfied smile on his face, helping you wipe the lubricant off your stomach. “What do you think it’s going to be?” You turned your head to ask. Daryl was sat next to you, his hand still holding yours as Siddiq went to go and print out your ultrasound pictures. “I don’ care, I’ll love ‘em either way.”

“I know you will.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,834 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: language, blood and gore, some sexuality, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Master List!

Previous Chapter here

Summary: Y/N and Daryl soak in their newfound closeness before heading out for a quick chore and some time together.

Your name: submit What is this?

It was one of the gentlest wakings you could remember—being pulled slowly from sleep by the soft shuffling of one of the dogs on the rug after a deep night of sleep that was free from new nightmares or bad memories. And then you became aware of his warmth and weight beside you. Even through your closed eyelids Daryl was steady and strong. You opened them to find his blue eyes already fixed on your face and then he smiled, almost a little abashedly as if you’d caught him at something he shouldn’t be doing, and your lips curved into a smile that mirrored his.

You drew in a deep, sustaining breath and shifted among the mess of sheets. There was a space between you and Daryl, but only a small one.

“You couldn’t sleep in?” you asked him gently. You could tell by the filtered light that it was much later than either of you usually rose.

“Nah, I coulda gone back to sleep,” he said. His voice was extra gravelly. “But once I woke up, I just—didn’t wanna close my eyes again,” he said. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “I ain’t been awake long though. Actually managed a pretty good night’a sleep for once.”

“Good. That’s good.” You paused and bit your bottom lip subconsciously. “Wonder why that is,” you said warmly.

Daryl let out an amused exhale. “No idea,” he drawled.

You smiled softly and sighed and then couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you. The cabin always grew cold overnight without anyone tending the fires.

Daryl immediately looked concerned. “Ya cold?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Just because the fire went out while we slept.”

He started to shift in the blankets.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, leaning up on an elbow.

“Yer cold. ‘M gonna get the fires goin’ again, warm this place up.”

“Don’t.”

Daryl gave you a questioning look, one hand still on the quilt, ready to throw it off and slip out of bed.

“Just—come warm me up instead?” you said softly. “Please?”

His eyebrow quirked up at that. “What’d ya have in mind exactly?” he asked.

“Whatever you think is best,” you said with a small laugh.

He studied your face for a long moment and then moved in toward you. He reached for you, a little hesitantly at first, but more needily when you shifted closer to him, moving into his arms. He tucked you up against him and you nestled into the crook of his neck and sighed contentedly. Your fingers fanned out against his bare chest. “This is perfect,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and you heard it reverberating deeply in his chest. “Warmer?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Happy to help. ’M practically a furnace. Definitely more of an advantage here than when I was growin’ up in Georgia,” he drawled.

“Mmm. I bet,” you hummed. Your fingertip traced the edge of one of the scars on his chest and you leaned in and kissed it. Daryl’s hand smoothed down your arm and onto your waist, following the crest of your hip and then landing on your leg. His fingers grazed over the scarred landscape of your upper leg and at first you flinched away, but his touch was so gentle and steady that you let go of your gripping anxiety and settled in again. You flushed with heat when his hand drifted away and departed to your thigh. His fingertips dimpled into the softness there and then he drew your leg toward his body until it was draped over his. Electric tingles seemed to erupt all over your skin. Your teeth nestled into the pillow of your bottom lip. You nuzzled in against his neck and kissed it gently.

Daryl responded by gently squeezing your thigh.

You kissed his neck again, this time lingering with your lips against his skin.

Goosebumps erupted on Daryl’s skin and he let out a sigh that had a raspy edge to it. You smiled and pulled slightly back so you could look into his face. You hand landed lightly on his chest. The look he gave you was needy.

“What do you say to me letting the dogs out and feeding them, brushing our teeth, and meeting back in here for a hot shower?” you asked him.

Daryl’s eyes flickered over your face. “I say I must be fuckin’ dreamin’.”

You gently trapped a strand of his hair between your fingers and followed its gentle wave down to the end. “You’re not. I’m at least 95% sure.”

“I’ll get the fires goin’ again too while ya let the dogs out. But dun take too long.”

“I won’t.”

Though you both were a little loathe to separate, you untangled yourselves and Daryl threw the covers back and pulled on his discarded pants. He grabbed his shirt off the floor getting ready to pull it on.

“Can I borrow that?” you asked, still shrouded in the sheets.

“This?” he asked, gesturing with his button up. “Ya wanna borrow it?”

“Yeah. Just for five minutes,” you said.

He tossed it to you and watched you pull it on and button it up. It swallowed you up and hung on your smaller frame. You slipped out of bed, your hands tucked in the sleeves. Daryl looked you up and down.

“What do you think?” you asked, laughing at his expression.

“If ya promise to wear it jus’ like that all the time, ya can keep it,” he drawled. He gulped, suddenly nervous again as he wondered at how goddamn beautiful you were, even with sleep messed hair and hidden in his clothes. How the hell had Brian’s dying wish led to here?

You moved past him to greet the dogs, but your fingertips brushed over his bare skin and he shivered from the electric chill they elicited. “Meet you right back here in five minutes?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, nudging his nose up at you in that characteristic Daryl-way.

Dogs pottied and fed, coffee brewing in the kitchen, teeth brushed, you headed back into your bedroom to find Daryl sitting on the side of the bed, petting Strider. A fire was crackling happily in the hearth again. Your heart lifted at the sight of him.

He looked up at the soft padding of your feet and again drank in the sight of you in just his shirt. His chest seemed to burst with heat. You smiled at him. That damn smile, just for him. It didn’t seem to make any fucking sense, but there it was.

“Still up for that shower?” you asked, feeling suddenly a little more shy. You fiddled with your hands hidden in the long sleeves of his shirt.

He nodded. “Yeah. If you are.”

You nodded back. “Yeah. I am.”

Maybe he could sense your sudden vulnerability, or maybe he was just being him but he got up and crossed the space to you and pulled you in against him gently, one hand on your hip and one moving to clasp your face. His eyes flickered between yours. “Ya wanna know ‘bout the first time I thought ya were beautiful?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It was when I woke up on that mat of skins all covered over in blankets in front of the fire, nothin’ on but my damn boxers. And I looked up, and there ya were, just sittin’ on the couch eatin’ a bowl of somethin’, starin’ at me. Sure, I was disoriented and confused as hell, but I just stared at ya and thought ‘Who the hell is this goddamn beautiful woman and why the fuck is she lookin’ at me?’ And then it just never seemed to make any sense… Still don’t really,” he said, ducking his head. “And then I got to know ya and ya got more beautiful every fuckin’ day. And before I knew it, I was in too deep to get out. It was like plungin’ into that frozen lake.”

“You’re one to talk… What kind of person crosses damn near the entire country in a fucking apocalypse to find the sister of a—of a dead man? Just because he asked? And the more I get to know you, the more I realize that’s just who you are. You’ll do anything for the people you care about. It’s a miracle you made it here in one piece and even more of a miracle that we somehow stumbled on each other.”

“I dun exactly believe in God or fate, but tha’s as good’a argument as I’ve ever heard,” Daryl drawled.

“Exactly.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead softly. “C’mon. I need that hot shower. ‘M cold. Somebody stole my damn shirt.”

You grinned up at him and a laugh bubbled out of you. The next moment you laced your fingers with his and tugged him toward the bathroom.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl couldn’t stop smiling at each other. You were still drying off after a rather steamy shower… Daryl felt as though he could still hear the noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you ringing in his ears. Flashes of the water cascading over your collarbone or running along the angle of your shoulder blade as he pressed you against the wall burst in his mind’s eye and—

“Daryl?”

He suddenly realized you were talking to him. “Hmm?”

You laughed and smiled at him, a flush in the apples of your cheeks. “I was asking what you wanted to do today?”

“S—sorry. Uhh… I dunno.” More of what you’d just done would be nice. His cheeks flushed.

You were still smiling at him. “It’s okay. I had an idea,” you said.

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever seen elk up close?” you asked.

“Nah. Not really. I saw some from far out when I was travelin’ here, but that’s it,” he drawled. “Why?”

“I know where the herds hang out in the winter. They’re pretty amazing to see up close. I thought we could go. It’s not too far.”

Daryl gave you a fond look and your heart fluttered. “That sounds—sounds real good. There’s one other thing though…”

“Hmm?”

He nervously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, we should prob’ly check those walker traps we put up the other day.” His stomach dropped at the thought of it. He hadn’t told you that the snares had been triggered the day before and he still needed to dispose of those corpses. The thought of it brought forward more serious conversations that he was dreading trying to broach; the valley flooded with walkers, the fast runners, him having to leave to get back to everyone in the east and the thought of what if you wouldn’t come with… especially now that he’d realized how head over heels he was for you.

You finished pulling your socks on and looked up at him. “You think there will be anything in them?” Daryl thought he heard a slight edge of apprehension in your tone.

“Mmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and then he nodded. “I dunno...” Better tell you now than dragging it on any longer. “But there were some in the snares yesterday.”

Your face dropped. “Oh. Really?”

He nodded, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna ruin the evenin’ again yesterday after the storm and everythin’. ‘M sorry I didn’t tell ya right away.”

Your brow furrowed deeply. “How many were—” You broke off and Daryl could almost see how your mind was whirling. “How many?” Your eyes were a little wide as you looked up at him.

Daryl wished he could tell you otherwise, but he couldn’t. “Three in the snares but I saw more tracks while I was out there. Course they coulda been made by the same ones. I dunno…”

You seemed frozen for a long moment, staring off vaguely at the space ahead of you. At length, you shook your head. “I don’t understand how they’re getting this far up. They shouldn’t be getting this far up the mountain…” You said it more to yourself than to him.

Daryl gulped. “I know.”

You sighed heavily and nervously bit the inside of your cheek. “Alright. Well… we better check those then,” you said, climbing to your feet.

“Ya comin’ with?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want to see what’s out there. Then after, if we feel up to it, I can show you the elk.” You managed to give him a tight smile, but both of you could sense that the bubble of bliss you’d been cloaked in since the previous night had burst. With the thought of the infected weighing heavily on your minds, being tangled in the sheets together and colliding under the steamy shower spray suddenly felt like a lifetime ago.

In a few minutes, you and Daryl were geared up and bundled for the cold. The dogs burst through the cabin door into the snow and bounded happily among the drifts. You slung your recurve bow up on your shoulder and stowed your knife on your hip. “Ready?” you asked.

Daryl was armed and waiting. “Yeah. Followin’ you,” he said. You both stepped out into the deep snow.

It was still quite cold, but less bitter than had been left in the wake of the storm the day before. The dogs seemed to be soaking up the sunshine as they tunneled their noses under the snow and then stopped to sniff the air. You found yourself slightly on edge and watching their body language and behavior closely. Those fucking runners were on your mind. Your eyes scanned the snow and more than once you thought you heard a stick snap in the woods and froze to listen. Having Daryl beside you helped immensely, but you still were hypervigilant.

Eventually you rounded a little knoll and slowed your pace. The snares were just up ahead. Before you even reached them you stopped cold. There was a bright red spot in the snow.

Daryl swung his crossbow down off his shoulder and stepped around you. “What is it?” He stopped and knelt down to look at the blood droplet. He glanced up at you with a furrowed brow.

“That’s really fresh,” you said. You nocked an arrow on your bow and glanced at the dogs. They stood nearby, rigid and listening, noses sniffing incessantly up in the air. Strider let out a low growl.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed softly, standing and scanning the surroundings. “C’mon. These tracks lead off toward the snares anyway.”

You followed behind him now. He took the lead instinctively, protectively, and you relinquished it to him without argument. As you got closer to the snares, you both began to hear faint growling sounds and Strider barked and charged ahead, his hackles raised. Bear took off after him.

As you plunged after them into the trees, you came upon three walkers hoisted by their legs in the snares. The corpses Daryl had left behind the day before were still piled but had obviously been gnawed on only to prove too frozen.

“Shit,” you murmured, lowering your bow. You paced forward past Daryl and stopped almost directly underneath them. You stared up at them, your expression dark. “Strider. Bear. Heel.”

The dogs stopped their circling beneath the infected and came to your sides. You watched the walkers swaying like some kind of perverse piñatas.

“Here,” Daryl said gently. “Just step back a little. I’ll get ‘em.” He touched you lightly on the sleeve.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” you murmured. You seemed to come out of your trance and you raised you bow again, drawing it back and letting an arrow fly squarely into the forehead of the closest walker reaching for you where it dangled. It stilled and a thick trickle of blood oozed down and dripped into the snow. You walked forward and retrieved your arrow before repeating the process with the remaining caught infected. The final one, however, was clearly not of the typical sluggish variety. It moved violently in the snare, its arms flailing with alarming speed as it growled and yelled and attempted to reach you. You felt nauseous as you nocked your arrow one final time and it was more difficult to aim with the runner’s frantic movements spinning and swinging it on the end of the rope. But when you let your arrow go, it landed with deadly accuracy. The silence that fell seemed deafening and neither you, nor Daryl, or even the dogs moved for a long moment. The bodies continued to sway in front of you slightly.

Finally, Daryl glanced back over at you, trying to read your face. It was marked with deep disconcertion. “Ya okay?” he asked.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh and shook your head. “Not really.” You finally looked over at him and your eyes seem large and worried, as if the rest of you was shrinking away in front of him. “Another one of those—those runner things,” you said. “Fuck.” You ducked your head and ran a hand over your face. Bear sat down beside you and whined, clearly sensing your mood. You reached over absently and sunk your fingertips into his thick fur.

Daryl went to each snare and lowered the bodies, pulling them to the pile of the infected from the day before. While he reset the snares, you unpacked a load dry wood from your pack and tossed it on, adding green pine boughs to the pile too. Daryl poured on the mix of oil and gas he’d brought from the shop and threw a lit match on.

The two of you stood side by side and watched it burn for a long time without speaking. The snow around it hissed and sizzled. The wood popped. The forest around you was silent. Finally, you shifted beside him.

“We’re probably gonna have to come back with more wood and stuff tomorrow. Finish mopping up this mess.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers moved anxiously over his crossbow, fiddling with this and that. “Ya wanna just go home?” he asked, hazarding a glance at your expression again.

You paused thoughtfully for a moment and then tried to rally yourself. “No. I’m not gonna let a few of these undead fucks ruin our whole day.” You straightened up and met his eyes.

He gave you a half-smile. “Well, tha’s good. ‘Cause somebody promised me an elk today.”

“Are you still up for it?” you asked, for the first time realizing how truly worried he had looked only moments ago.

“Hell yeah,” he drawled. He shouldered his bow again. “Lead the way.”

You whistled to the dogs and left the snares behind. It took you a little time to find the path you wanted to take in the deep snow, but once you found the stone marker you’d placed yourself years ago, the walk was easier. Deep game trails were already cut through the drifts by deer and other wildlife and you were able to pass easily over the compacted snow. The walk was scenic and Daryl found himself stopping every so often to admire some glen that seemed iced in fairytale white or to peer up at a jagged rock outcropping that towered overhead. You always noticed when he’d slowed or stopped and you would pace back to stand beside him and appreciate the scene too. And then he often found himself gazing at you instead.

“Come on, quit that,” you laughed once, having caught him looking at you instead of at the partially frozen little creek you’d both stopped beside.

The corners of his eyes crinkled a little in the ghost of a smile. “Why?”

“Because it’s making me blush,” you retorted. There was definitely heat blooming in your face.

He shrugged. “I can’t tell. Yer cheeks are already pink from the cold.”

You’d linked your arm with his and leaned your head against his shoulder then. The gentle babbling of the creek was a perfect soundtrack and lifted both of your spirits after the grim discovery earlier. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

Daryl let you slip apart from him and followed behind you again. You led him down a little dip into a coulee which widened into an open area rimmed with trees. You slowed and began to move quietly, digging into the side pocket of your pack for your binoculars. You scanned the snow and soon began to see elk prints. You pointed them out to Daryl. “The herd likes to hang out around here in the winter. It’s protected from the wind and has plenty of browse.”

Daryl examined the hoof print, awed by the size of it. “When do ya think these are from? Last night?”

“Mmm,” you nodded, looping the strap of your binoculars around your neck. “Looks like. Come on.” You made the dogs walk beside you again and began to weave through the trees to a spot you usually were able to conceal yourself in and have some good views of the elk herd lounging.

But Daryl nearly ran into you when you stopped dead in front of him.

“Y/N?” He could feel how your body tensed. “S’goin’ on?”

He watched as you raised the binoculars to your eyes and peered through them. Your voice was airy and disconnected when you tried to speak. “There’s a—I think there’s an elk kill ahead but it’s—it doesn’t—”

Daryl’s heart started to pound. “Doesn’t what?”

“It doesn’t look right,” you said. “Something—something’s wrong.”

“What d’ya mean?” Daryl squinted ahead through the trees. Adrenaline was coursing through his bloodstream. His hearing seemed to sharpen.

“I can’t—I need to get closer,” you said, lowering the binoculars again. Your face was ashen.

“Hold up. Ya sure tha’s a good idea?”

The deep caverns of worry lines were back in your forehead again. “We need to go look at this. Trust me.”

Daryl hesitated, but finally nodded. The hair on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end as the two of you stepped forward. A raven took out from the top of a tall pine and its throaty croak echoed around you. More birds rose ahead and joined in the rasping calls. He had the overwhelming sense that things were about to irrevocably change for the worse.

[avatarl0v3r]

Pink + White | Part Four

warnings/notes: strong language, italics with "quotes" = your video log of your time studying the fauna and flora of pandora/narration

bold = song lyrics

side notes: each phase will be associated with a song, phase ones song is Pink + White by frank ocean, these last two chapter's of this phase might be shorter by A LOT

pink + white master list.

part three

part five

taglist: @itscheybaby @brookesbizzareadvendture @jakesully-sbabygirl @myheartfollower @inlovewithpandora

Thats the same way you showed me, showed me

that night you went to the sully's home for dinner with your family's recipe of fried chicken. upon entering the home you were bombarded with hugs from the kids. “i missed you too” you said laughing at their reactions, finding the nearest table you sat the food down before hugging them back. after the interaction jake watched you have with his children he watched as you picked up the food and sat it down at the table.

the kids hurriedly ran to the table as if they’d been starved and grabbed away at the chicken you had brought “slow down so you don’t choke, i don’t need any of you dying over food” jake said in a joking yet serious tone causing you to laugh. finally, after eating your food, the kids wanted you to stay longer which you agreed to even though you didn’t have time-jake watched as you played with the kids with a sad smile on his face.

he wished neytiri was here to see how big the kids had gotten in such a short amount of time, watching you bringing life into them again made him feel happy. he had found his new source of happiness.

You showed me love

a month or so later your time spent with the sully’s mainly jake became a daily habit, even amanté noticed and brought it up himself. “y/n/n, so whats goin on with you and jake?” you looked up at him from your chair confused “what about me and jake?” you said sarcastically. amanté rolled his eyes “first you're a shitty liar and you dare to attempt to lie to me! of all people your twin brother,” he put a fist over his heart like it was in pain “i’m hurt, but no real shit you two are always seen together whether it be alone or with the kids.”

you sighed and stood up putting your sample back into its container “i don’t know, maybe i’m looking too deep into it, you know?” he stared at you like you were the dumbest person on earth-well pandora-“are you crazy, of course, your not looking to deep into it have you seen the way he looks at you.” you looked at him hopefully.

“i’ve been here since tuks birth and neytiris death, trust me y/n…you given him his spark back.”

Glory from above

Regard my dear

—

meanwhile jake was talking to norm about his newfound feelings “norm, i don’t know what to do” jake said into his hands while talking to norm. “you have feelings correct?” he said looking at his friend, he was met with silence.

jake was fighting a battle in his mind, if he was to try again with you it would feel like throwing away his love for neytiri, he was scared because he knew the long-gone na'vi still watched over their families and loved ones. he also knew the feelings he has for you weren't an illusion as he tried to make it out to seem. everyone knew it was clear as day that he wanted to be more with you than just "friends."

he sighed before looking at norm "i have to go," he said rapidly standing up-norm following suit-"thanks for the advice" norm stood there as jake jogged away. he yelled back to him "wha- what advice!" but once again jake didn't seem to hear him.

--

jake jogged back to camp and grabbed his ikran and took off. since the tree of voices was destroyed years ago, there was only one place jake could talk to neytiri the tree of souls.

when jake arrived at the tree of souls he looked around. the feeling of sorrow crashed into him like a tsunami, all the memories here in one spot with neytiri. he stopped walking when he was met with a vine, he inhaled shakily before connecting his kuru and closing his eyes. he knew who he wanted to talk to.

--

"ma jake" jake opened his eyes to see neytiri standing there with her arms open, look just as heavenly as she did the day he met her. "neytiri," he said staring at her his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes wide and his heart beating erratically as he ran towards her engulfing her in a hug. "why have you come here?" she said pulling away he only looked away not wanting to meet her eyes, but she patiently waited for him to respond "I've met someone..." he waited for her to give him a angry response over him finding someone else, but it never came.

he was met with a soft smile instead "is she good with the children?" he smiled at the thought of you taking the responsibility to help raise the children even without him asking "yes" she kept asking him more questions, and with every answer her smile grew "your eyes glow when you talk about her this makes me happy to see you in such a state, do you love her?" he searched her eyes to find anything in them, but failed to find anything.

"i do" neytiri's smile grew even wider to see her jake in love and happy again since her passing, she cupped his face "just because you now love another doesn't mean you've replaced me, nor does it replace my love for you," she backed away "you know what you must do ma jake."

he opened his eyes and was back at the tree of souls a large smile had found its way upon his face as he ran to his ikran and headed back to high camp.

It's all downhill from here

[grippingbeskar]

salt ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty four - tied down

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content minors dni (oral f receiving, implied smut, mxf, frank and his dirty mouth hngggg) swearing, canon typical violence

a/n: i have no words. this chapter made me want to pull my hair out writing it I HOPE ITS GOOD FML.

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was already setting, giving Frank enough cover to drag Bobby Gnucci’s thrashing body down an alley to the drop off point. He was still gagged, hands and feet tied together, and Frank must of made good time because Madani wasn’t here yet. Which meant he’d have to stand here and wait, wasting time while you sat in the car.

Bobby started making muffled noises, and Frank stood over him, hands grabbing him by his collar and yanking him to stand. He pulls the gag out of his mouth, pushing his palm in his face, keeping him flat on the brick wall.

“You wanna talk so bad, huh? What do you have to say? You wanna offer me another deal?” Bobby strains against his hand, but Frank still feels too strong. Even without it he could hold this guy down as long as he wanted.

“You can’t— hand me over to them. They’ll kill me in there.” He says, and it makes Frank laugh.

“What makes you think I’m not gonna do the same thing the minute this is all over?” He feels him swallow, and then drops his elbow into his chest. “You better hope you die in there. Maybe someone’ll take pity on you, make it quick. Cause if they don’t, I’ll find a way. No matter where they lock you up, where they send you, there’s no where they can shove you that I won’t find you. And when I come for you, that shit won’t be quick.”

Bobby doesn’t say anything else, and Frank drops his limp body to the ground as he hears a car pull up behind him. Madani is quick to get out first, followed by about eight guys in all black riot gear, M16 rifles already aimed.

“He’s alive?” She asks, bending down to examine the half bleeding body that is Bobby Gnucci.

“Alive enough.” Frank moves in front of him when Madani sends an order to her men. “Hold on.”

“Seriously? This is—“

“You take him, and I want your fucking word that this is the last thing you ask her to do. You’ve got your information, got your statements. Anything else, you can call Murdock for it. She’s done.”

“And you?” She steps back, assessing him. “You really think you can leave this behind?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it? It always seems to come back to you.” Frank steps to the side in response, letting the riot guys haul Bobby’s body into the back of the van. “It’s good— to see you not alone.”

“Whatever, I’m goin—“

“It’s not a bad thing, Frank.” There was so much shit between the two of them, but he thinks that’s the closest thing to a compliment she’s ever given him. She throws him a set of keys. “You two keep out of this, and we’re even. That’s the keys to a new place— off the record. You have my word.”

Frank nods, starting to walk away. “Thanks, Madani.”

“Don’t get all sentimental.” She says before turning back, sending more orders flying to her men before getting back in the car.

Frank doesn’t feel any different. About seven times on the way up here he thought about turning around and ending it right there. It would be so easy. This guy he’d been chasing for months was in the back of his car, and he wanted it so bad it was weighing on him. Even then, Bobby was isolated and alone, Frank could have taken him out easily.

Back in the base, too. Frank couldn’t stop himself, thought he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he found him. He threw him against the wall when he finally tracked him down, punched him so hard in the stomach he could feel the man’s spine crack against his knuckles. He didn’t want to stop. He hurt you— hurt you so bad you were still scared of that fucking room. He watched how your eyes changed when you realised where you were on that monitor. It fucking broke him.

Bobby should be dead, but if he had to choose between you and revenge, he would choose you. Maybe it was because if he could turn back time, he’d change his choices. Or fuck, maybe he had just changed. Or maybe he was still just selfish. Whatever it was, he had you now. No fuckin’ deadlines or missing kids or Colonels or bombs. He felt like he had all the time in the world with you right now. Like he could finally start to do this right. You deserved that, at least.

He could see you sitting in the car, those stupid sunglasses on your head, staring at him out the window. You’d been watching the whole thing, of course you had. He was surprised you’d even stayed in the car that long. When he finally reached you, starting the car, it didn’t take you long to break the silence he’d created.

“So?”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head like he was purposefully fucking with you.

“What happened?! Did she say anything? Did…did he?” Frank sneaks a look at you, watching you run your hand through your hair.

“He’s a man of few words now.” Sighing at Franks dry sense of humour, you roll your eyes and sit a little more relaxed in the seat. “It’s fine. We’re done.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You did enough, and Murdock’ll fill in the rest.”

“And you’re okay with that?” You ask tentatively.

“With letting him live? No fuckin’ way.” He says through nearly clenched teeth. Then he looks at you again, and takes a breath. “But that’s the way it’s gotta be right now.”

“Thank you.” You breathe and Frank shakes his head. “You heard anything about Sam recently? How he’s doing?”

“Last I heard he was learning how to make somethin’ called Piroshki.” You laugh, asking what the hell that was, and Frank shrugs. “He’s fine. Lovin’ it in Florida. Safe, too.”

“Good. That’s… I’m glad.” Frank can tell you’re just thinking about how far away that is, and how soon you can see him again, but this all needs to be done and dusted before you can risk bringing Sam back. Frank doesn’t trust they’ll be able to keep Bobby for good, and he can’t have any loose ends around a kid.

You go quiet for the rest of the car ride, eventually falling asleep to the low hum of the engine. Frank sneaks looks at you whenever he could— relaxed, eyes closed and dreaming. He watched you sleep too often, but it was becoming his favourite past time. Peaceful.

He made sure to hit every red light for you on the way home so you could enjoy it, knowing when you woke up he wouldn’t be letting you sleep all night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“They were merging, Frank. Their lane was ending.”

“They were assholes. Went up on the fucking curb. They can wait.” He grumbles, pressing on the horn again and making you laugh.

“That’s a little dramatic.” You say over the loud noise, unable to hide your smile at how genuinely pissed off he looks.

“Good. They’ll get the message.” He beeps again, and the car trying to push in front of him breaks, flipping him off as he flies past them. “See?”

Before you can answer he swings the car around to an unfamiliar apartment block. You know Frank had places all around, and considering the last place he had was set on fire— it makes sense this place is new.

“Top floor, sweetheart. Come on.” Frank says, suddenly swinging open your door and herding you like a dog. He’s got two bags swung around his shoulders, and his hand is wrapped around the handle of the door so tight you are pretty sure he’s going to rip it off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You step out of the car, but hold him by the shoulders, pressing his back to the closed door. He tries to shake you off but you hold him down, one hand on his jaw and getting on your toes to look into his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Both of his hands touch your face, his movements gentle and caring. “Stop worryin’.”

“Because you never do? Same guy who told me sit and look pretty in the front seat of the car while you did the hand over about thirty seconds ago?” He shrugs, hands dropping to your hips and hauling you against him. “Give me a break.”

“You did look pretty.” He says in your ear, the smile on his face ringing through his tone. “Real fuckin’ pretty.”

“Oh?” He hums. Your heart bangs against your rib cage as you feel his thumbs slip under your shirt, smoothing over your hip bones.

“Yeah. You’re driving me fucking crazy out here lookin’ like that.” He bends down, the heat of his breath brushing against your neck. It’s followed by his mouth, a sweet short kiss just under your jaw. It’s enough to make you shudder, the things you’d gone through in the past few days making it feel like years since you had him like this. “Look at me.”

You look up, and his eyes are focused on you. It’s almost intimidating. You always forget how big he is until he’s staring down at you. Suddenly it’s like it’s that first time again, watching him make his way around the table, knowing exactly what he wants and exactly how to get it. This time, though, it’s not need that clouds his eyes. It’s something gentle, but harder and more urgent.

“I’m not letting you outta my sight again.” He kisses your forehead, breathing in deep. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to let this shit go.”

“You trust Madani?” He nods, once. “Then let it play out. We hear anything go wrong, and we can handle it. We got him once, right? We can do it again.”

“You’ll never have to see him again.” There’s a look in his eyes, one you associate with dark rooms, the metallic smell of blood and gunpowder. You don’t question it, just lean into him more.

“I know. Now, go back to telling me how pretty I look.” You tug on his hair, grinning at his laugh.

“I can show you.” His hands disappear completely under your shirt, exploring the bare skin of your lower back and under your ribs. “You gonna let me be good to you?”

It should be impossible for his voice to be so quiet, but still vibrate through you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Mhmm. Maybe— Frank!” He all but chucks you over his shoulder, picking you up in one arm and walking towards the door. You don’t see much of the lobby, not that you really give a shit what it looks like. It doesn’t really matter where he’s taking you— as long as he kept smiling like he was now, and the light feeling in your head and chest floated all the way there.

You were nearly dizzy when he finally cleared the stairs, still holding you in one arm like you weighed nothing to him. Maybe you did— you had no fucking clue what level he was at, and how fast his body would get rid of the blood in his system. Either way he was feeling good enough to unlock the door, drop the bags and slam you up against the wall.

He kisses you like you’ve deprived him of it— all teeth and tongue searching for purchase against each other. His hands are a little rougher, the need in his movements setting you on fire. His body is pressing you tightly to the wall, your arms only able to lift above your head as he rips your shirt over it. Your breathless sighs fill the room when he drags his mouth down, kissing you everywhere while keeping you pinned. You let your hands fall down, wanting to hurry this up and take his shirt off too, but he grabs both your wrists and keeps them up above your head.

“Stay.” He grumbles against your collarbone, licking his way down to where he’s torn your bra off. His teeth graze lightly over your nipple, eyes blazing into your own when you squirm and say his name. He sucks marks onto your skin, working his way across your chest. When he switches, you forget where you are, and your hands drop again.

This time, he’s a lot quicker and a little harsher with it. Never enough to hurt, but enough to make a point that he wants you to stay put. He keeps his hand on your wrists now, pressing the backs of them to the cold brick. He groans, pressing his forehead to your chest. You watch his back, still covered by his shirt, but even through it you can see his muscles contract as he takes slow, deep breaths.

“Fucking stay.” He drags his teeth along the skin he’s paid so much attention to, making you squirm again.

“Or what? You’ll tie me up?” Your head falls back, resting against your pinned arms.

“You want me to?” His head is still buried at your chest, staring down at his shoes, and how he’s kicked your legs apart. “Least I could take my time with you without your fuckin’ attitude for three seconds.”

“Do it, then.” That makes him peak up, a smirk on his face. “If you’re man enough, that is.”

“That’s how it is, gorgeous?” His hand drops yours, both coming to your hips and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him, completely trusting him as he leads you further into the apartment with your back to the open space.

“That’s how it is.” You try to hold your grin, watching the hard set of his face train completely on you.

Instead of answering, he groans against your bare skin, the wet heat of his mouth making you slump forward to chase his touch. When you walk through a doorway, you only notice because it gets a little darker, and the air is a little warmer. Your eyes shut, content to feel him lather you with attention as he lays you down, rough hands grabbing your forearms and holding them above your head.

“Stay there.” He says against your mouth, and then you hear the all too familiar clink of his belt buckle. The sound has like a Pavlov effect on you— your stomach tightening and head buzzing as soon as you hear it. With your eyes closed, though, you don’t know where he’s at, and then cool leather is skating along your stomach, the cold metal on your wrists.

He’s using his fucking belt. Tying you down, making sure you don’t move. There’s a second when his hands are at your wrists, threading through the headboard and linking around you that he hesitates. His fingers touch at the old scars— hardly visible now, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

“You sure, baby?” He kisses your cheek, pulling lightly at the belt.

“I trust you.” He kisses the opposite cheek, then tugs the belt. “Tighter.”

“Fucking hell.” He groans, pulling it again. He catches your eyes, and when he looks at you like that everything else ceases to exist. “You always get what you want, huh?”

His hands hook under your jeans and underwear, yanking them down in one strong tug. It should take him longer, but he doesn’t even fiddle with the zipper. The fabric rips, splits under his touch and all but shreds as he chucks it somewhere into the dim abyss of the room. He grabs your legs, and throws them over his shoulders, holding you down as you yelp with surprise when he buries his face between your legs.

He’s usually such a mix between tease and gentleman— working you up until your nearly begging for it, but he doesn’t have the patience right now. His tongue is deliciously hot, licking you in rhythmic strokes like he’s playing the guitar. You sing for him with each movement, shuddering when his mouth wraps around your clit, pleasure shocking through you.

Your hands pull at the belt above you, hearing the leather stretch and wood creak. Franks head doesn’t move, his mouth doesn’t quip with a remark, not even when you cry out— chest nearly bursting with how good it feels. He groans when you say his name, the sound making you writhe harder against the restraint. You asked for this, but it doesn’t take away how much you want to tug on his hair, flip him over and fuck him until he can’t see straight.

“Frank— please let me touch you.” You say all at once, the sentence more of a ramble. You try to move under him, but he’s so strong, determined to make you sit there and take it. Let him have what he needs, do what he wants… the very idea has your eyes rolling back in your head, back arching.

“No.” He moves up the bed nearly bending you in half, tongue swirling in patterns that have you seeing stars. You can hear his staggered breathing, feel his chest and back expanding in between your thighs, spreading you open. Your hands latch onto the headboard, nails cutting their way through the wood as the heat in your belly spreads all over.

“Please, baby.” The shattered tone of your voice makes his eyes look up, even if they’re unfocused.

“You want out?” One of his hands replaces his mouth, curling against something fucking devastating inside you, your whimpered moans giving him enough of an answer. “That’s what I thought. You like this, don’t you?”

“Feels s’good.” You mumble into the pillows. You lose him again, along with all sense of direction when his mouth comes back to your clit. He finds a rhythm again, one he knows all too well will make you shatter completely. “You’re so good. So good— please.”

“Mhmm.” The hand around your waist grips you harder, his hand smacking your ass lightly. You jolt towards him, some kind of red fuelling your vision. You were so close— you needed to feel him under your hands, a need so strong you were almost positive you could snap the leather of his thick belt if you wanted.

But there was something else, something that made you wait until he let you out. The idea that you knew he would let you out— he would remember. He never wouldn’t let you out, and it’s the exact reason you want it to be him that decides. Even if you want to rip this headboard to shreds and flip him over.

You gasp when you feel his hand take over again, the speed and harshness of it buffered by the way he was kissing your hips, mouthing the soft skin of your lower stomach that felt like it was about to burst with pleasure and heat. You couldn’t think of anything other than his touch, body going limp under him.

“That’s right— fuck you look so good right now.” You keen under him, teetering on the edge. “Ohh, you like that too, huh? Like hearing how good you look?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck Frank.”

“Such a pretty girl— so good. You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” His words hit the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, sending you into orbit and your head spinning in some kind of unfamiliar, warm space. You could only nod, high pitched whining sounds telling him everything he wants to here. “So good, baby. Cum for me and I’ll let you out. Fuck you how you want me to.”

The feeling overtakes you, letting yourself sink completely into his words and the over mounting pleasure. He holds you down, moving back and pressing you into the mattress. You’re faintly aware he’s looming over you, watching how you tug worthlessly at the belt he tied. You moan loudly, and he bends down, shushing you with sweet kisses.

When you feel yourself coming back, eyes blinking open, he’s right there— he’s always right there where you want him. His hands leave your sides, reaching up above your head, metal clinking above you.

“You’re so perfect, baby. So good to me.” He says, words stuttered through kisses and glimpses up to the belt. With one hand, he undoes it, and watching him sends a whole other round of butterflies off in your stomach.

As soon as your hand are free you’re on him, tearing his shirt over his head. His skin is warm, and your nails drag up over his spine into his hair, tugging. His hairs gotten longer now, long enough to twirl around your fingers, and he grunts when you pull him down, controlling where he goes. You kiss him hard— bruising, almost. Then you make good on all those thoughts, flipping him under you in one movement.

“Fuck.” He mutters against your mouth, and you smile a little.

You shift your hips over his, straddling him. You can feel him through his sweats, ruining the fabric when you sit down and grind against him. He groans at the feeling, his head falling back.

“Let—“ You shake your head, both hands pressed to his chest.

“Let me fuck you. How you want.” You pull his pants down the rest of the way and quickly slide a condom on, watching his face as your soft hands squeeze him lightly. The belt catches your eye, forcing a smile on your face. “Unless you need to be tied down.”

“Shut up.” He yanks you down to kiss you, and even though you’re on top of him, he fucks you. Hard.

You can’t help the loud sounds that fall from your lips, and he swallows them eagerly. They only urge him on, his hips driving up so hard and fast it’s nearly impossible to do anything to live up to your words. He takes you apart, bends your will in ways you don’t want to understand, but it’s just so easy to give it to him. Let him in, when all you tried to do was keep everyone out. His hands fist tight in your hair, the other across your lower back, hitting you so deep you know you’ll feel him for days. You hope he never stops, the white hot bliss in your chest bursting out in long, loud moans.

“Be loud, baby. No one else is coming. Just you and me.” He whispers to you, making you shudder in his arms. “You feel so fucking good. So fucking good—“

“Oh god, Frank—“

“Take it. Fuck, you do it so well.” He doesn’t shut up, grinding up into you, the friction tearing you apart in the best way.

The grip behind your head turns to fingers smoothing over, the gentle side of him giving you whiplash compared to how hard he’s fucking you. He kisses you softly, and you manage to open your eyes just for a second, your foreheads pressed together.

He doesn’t have to say it, you can see it in his eyes. You have no idea how you didn’t pick it before, how it took you so long to name the way he looks at you. Now you’ve seen it, now you know what that is, there’s nothing else it could be but complete adoration. Love.

He flips you over, his cock never leaving you and keeping that punishing pace as he takes even more control. You can feel it building again— that hum of pleasure surging in your veins, overtaking your ability to keep your eyes open.

“I’m so close, sweetheart. Your so—fuck, so tight. You feel me here?” His hand drops, pressing on your lower belly and you say his name— scream it so your new neighbours know exactly who’s fucking you. “Fuck…fuck. Fuck!”

The weight of him holds you down as your orgasm renders you weak and boneless, holding the grip in his hair so tight you swears your knuckles will split. His voice shudders and hitches, a complete lack of control washes over his face, the sight nearly making you cum again. His hips still, warmth blooming in your stomach as you both ride out your highs simultaneously.

Above you, he’s just about the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Don’t move yet.” He says, hands holding your body close. You’re curled up in bed— your bed. He’s behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest.

“Can’t. Even if I wanted to.” His nose drags along your spine, lips trailing behind.

“Baby, if I—“

“You didn’t hurt me. You never hurt me.” His hand cups your jaw, turning you to face him. Then, his thumb traces that tiny little scar on your face, his own looking at you a little pained. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”

“I hate knowin’ I did it.” You turn over, your face inches from his.

“Frank. That was so long ago, and don’t you remember what I did to you? Your arm shattered.”

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t have a choice, but I did. And I hurt you.” Guilt. He was fucking riddled with it, you could tell. It wasn’t even just you, you know that, but he was so used to stacking mistake after mistake on top of each other, shoving it down inside him— but this one was on your face, something he looked at all the time. Studied. Loved.

“You are the only person who ever came back for me. Helped me. We had a weird start, I’ll give you that—“ He smiles, a sight for your half closed eyes. “—but please, do not add me to that weight on your shoulders. I love you. And that stupid scar is nothing to me. Not as long as it meant I get this.”

“Too good to me.” His head is buried under your chin, hiding his face because he must know you’re right.

He has to know that you wouldn’t change a thing— even if it meant a thousand more years, you would wait, go through all that shit again if he was at the end. He was the prize at the end of a long fucking race, but no matter how much your chest aches and your legs burned, you’d sprint the whole way to get to it.

“What do we do now?” You whisper, the room nearly pitch black now. “You gonna get a job? Wear a suit and tie?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Giggling, the dark room letting you picture him perfectly in a suit.

“You’d look good.” He groans, pulling you closer.

“Cause you’d be so happy being a housewife— sittin’ around waitin’ for me to get home. Yeah, right.” Laughing louder, he just groans again. “Who gives a shit what we do? We’ll figure it out.”

“I guess we have time. He’s not going on trial for another week, right?” Frank nods. “Shit. I wonder how we’re gonna fill our time in here…”

“I’m gonna let that go, because I know you need a second. When I get back, you better be all nice and sweet.”

“Or what?” You hum, and somewhere in the room he picks up the belt buckle and throws it on the bed before he nips at your collarbone before he gets up and walks out of the room.

You flip onto your back, closing your eyes and letting all your thoughts rush back to your brain.It’s almost too easy to not think with Frank, but you can’t fight them off when he’s not there. These ones though, these thoughts coming to you in the safety of this room— your shared room, are good ones.

You see flashes of it. It used to be a far off dream, but you have time now. Time to think about it— Frank coming back to you, maybe in a suit, maybe covered in blood. It doesn’t matter, cause you would be there, wherever he is because you want to be. It’s the only place you’d want to be. You play it over in your head, what he said.

You know you probably don’t want to sit around in an apartment all day. You have that same burn he does— especially knowing Bobby’s still alive. But, for right now, you’d sit at home all day if he was coming through the door at the end of it. Besides, what he called you didn’t sound all bad. House-wife.

You could work with that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Hm... You know, you often compare yandere Wheezy to Mother Gothel. What if the situation between him and Y/N was something similarly to Mother Gothel and Rapunzel too?

Like maybe you two have known each other your whole lives. Or at least it feels like it (depending on when you guys met. Like high school or childhood or something). So it just felt natural to you when eventually you guys moved in together. It felt like a normal relationship had blossomed between you two. Granted, it was pretty lonely since everyone you get to know seems to leave one way or another... But you got your Wheezy. And he's got you. People say that as long as you have each other, it should be enough.

(And perhaps your Flynn Rider- perhaps a certain green weasel 👀- comes along when Wheezy isn't around for some reason. You get to hang out with somebody that isn't your boyfriend. And you realize how much of this you missed... And a lot more about your relationship.)

!! I cant believe this has taken me so long to respond to 😅😅 Especially since I am minorly obsessed with Gothel-YanWheezy semblance! XD I think I probably saw it during Placement but cuz of everything that was going on I just kindof... flew over it. I'm sorry, here have waffle 🧇

I- love- this! Wheezy keeping you for himself?? Wheezy manipulating his childhood friend into being his girlfriend- live-in fiancé- then wife?!! And Greasy being Y/N's secret flirty friend!???? So terrible and wholesome !

I know this isn't what you were talking about, but I couldn't help myself. Here's basically that scene at the end of Tangled when Rapunzel/Y/N tells Gothel/Wheezy that she'll stay, and be good, and never ever try to escape... so long as she's allowed to save Flynn/Greasy.

~

Yandere!Wheezy Weasel x Reader x Greasy Weasel || Drabble

*this Wheezy kinda gives off the same vibes as Otis in this specific gif, so... 😅

Plot: ->

"No! I wont stop. For every minute of the rest of my life, I will fight! I will never stop trying to get away from you! ... But if you let me save him,.. I will go with you. I'll never run, I'll never try to escape. Just let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Forever, just like you want."

Warnings: Greasy has gunshot wounds in his abdomen, gets his fingers crushed, and gets ash in his eyes. Wheezy puts you down and is, yaknow, a monster- Also it's unedited right now.

"Y/N, c'mon." The tone in Wheezy's voice is calm as ever, relaxed, even bored; But the way his teeth are grit despite not having a smoke in his mouth right now and how his knuckles are white gripping the rope wrapped tightly around his strong fist gives him clean away. His eyes flash behind a wall of smoke, down at you- and Greasy. On the ground. "Time to finish up, here. Timeta go. He's not goin' anywhere."

Tears are overflowing in your eyes, on the ground by Greasy- He's still sitting up but he's bleeding out fast, the bullet holes in his stomach turning his green suit a deep red. Almost black. He clutches the wound and glares up at Wheezy, but his eyes soften when they turn down to you again; Noticing you crying over him. "Mi amore... wipe yo- " As soon as Greasy attempts to reach over and comfort you, Wheezy steps lazily on his hand creeping along the ground. Not only does he step down but he slowly crushes the bones before your wide, horrified eyes. Its a small sign of uncharacteristic spitefulness, viciousness that is so unlike him, a side of him you swear you swear you swear you didn't know about. You swear. You want Greasy to know that! You desperately try to tell him that, with your eyes, because Wheezy would surely hurt him worse if you said them outload. "... its okay." He continues, voice cracking through the unimaginable pain. He's somehow still as off-puttingly charming as ever and it makes you wish you weren't so hopelessly blind about Wheezy even harder. God!-

If you had been aware, caught the red flags, noticed everything that Wheezy must have been doing all this time- even just one thing- then you never would have brought Greasy into this, never would have befriended him, never would've ever responded to his dumb cheap flattery. You would have pushed right by him that day you met and he would've felt the sting of rejection but that would have been it. Neither of you would have fallen in as ill-fated love as you have, he wouldn't be bleeding now, he wouldn't die- "Y/N, get up."

... Sniffling, you shake your head. "No, I- Ah!" As soon as you shook your head, Wheezy had rolled his eyes up and yanked at the rope- which is tied to your wrists behind your back.

"Gettin' on my nerves, doll... move your ass."

"No, Wheezy, he'll- " Finally turning and looking at your- at Wheezy, you flash a defiant glare. Theirs a desperate tone in your voice and you wonder why you still think he'll listen. He's not your Wheezy anymore. He's someone else entirely. Why are you still begging him?? "He'll die!" Because you dont have a choice. Greasy will die here.

"Yeah... kinda the point." After heaving a smoky sigh, and not even seeming to notice Greasy's glower up at him (Or not caring), Wheezy flicks the flat of his cap up his forehead and picks a loose smoke out from behind his ear; sticking it between his teeth and searching for his lighter in his pockets. "Sweetheart I think maybe you're not gettin' this." Finding the lighter, Wheezy carefully lights his cigarette; the end glowing, now. "That's alright, I guess," He thinks outloud, giving a tiny and half asses shrug as he folds the smoke and his hand back into his pant pocket. "'ts better if yer dumb."

"I- I'm no- "

"Yeah, y'kinda are." He huffs out a sigh, and dirty, stinky smoke flies out the corners of his mouth. You know he's referring to all those years he played you, and it shuts you up. Maye he's right...

God-

"No. No no no, Y/N, you are no- you are not dumb. Listen to me- ah," Struggling and grimacing, Greasy drags himself with his good hand a few inches closer to you. Then he uses that hand to squeeze his bullet wounds - which, now that you're looking at him again through the tears, have really done a number on him. The bags under his eyes are disgustingly deep... its makes your guts ache. He's going to die here and its all your fault, - and his useless, broken hand to reach for you once again. He never learns!- "You're very intelligent. Don't listen to him, listen to me. Its going to be o- " You're just wondering, wide eyed, how he can still be comforting you right now when Wheezy kicks his hand away, causing Greasy to growl and squeeze his eyes shut, forcing the pain away.

"... Damn. Grease, you really are fucken something. How many times have I toldya over the years just ta keep your hands ta yerself?? If you'd listened to me, we wouldn't be here."

Breathing through the pain, making his voice steady somehow, Greasy cracks his eyes open; Glancing upwards to Wheezy with a disgusting feral look in his eyes. "Mark my words, fumador... I am going to ruin you, for this."

Looking immeasurably bored, shoulders dropped and eyes half-hooded as he takes his smoke out between two of his fingers and blows out a cloud of grey, Wheezy shakes his head. "Ehhh, somehow I doubt it... "

Wheezy looks thoughtful for a moment at his cig, before shrugging like why not? and - without looking at either of you, - taps some hot, dusty ash directly into Greasy's eyes off the end before flicking the rest away to the ground. Greasy hisses and lets go of his abdomen in order to wipe the bloody heels of his hands into eyes to get the burning hot ash out of his eyes as hurriedly get a tissue from your pocket and go to help him, but-

"Uh uh uh," Wheezy wraps the rope a few more times around his hand and his wrist and forces you up onto your feet, digging his fingers into the back of waist band and holding you still. "Come on, lets go."

"No!" The rope around your waist digs through your shirt into your skin and the rope winding up your forearms rub but you fight- try not to move- not to leave- but now that you're on your legs its harder to stay still. Wheezy's tall, and his limbs are long and sinewy and like rock, and so far he hasn't even tried to use that against you.

"Fightin' it's just gonna make it worse, (Nickname). And whether ya believe it or not, I do not get my kicks outta this." Just behind you, you feel him shrug again; against your back. "Jus' not my idea of a Saturday night, I guess. I will hurt ya if y'make me, though."

"Let me- "

"Are you gonna ask me to let ya go??" He sounds genuinely disappointed, groaning, like he's watching a soap and his favourite character did something ill-advised that he disapproves of. He's acting like he's on a job Smartass forced him into! Like he's only half here- have on the back porch smoking a couple packs. Like ruining your life and killing his best friend is just shit that he's 'gotta do'. "C'mon, doll, you're better then tha- "

"Let me save him."

This gives Wheezy pause. You're not facing him so you turn, wanting to see how he's taking that and why he's so silent, catching him looking cold and vicious again. Those blue eyes have never looked icier, and his jaw is set tight, and he has never seemed taller. Right now he's like 30 story skyscraper. You feel so small... until- "Nope."

He tries again to walk off with you but you glance at Greasy, head bowed against the ground and the puddle of his own blood around him, just trying to focus on breathing slowly, and your heart sinks. You know you can't leave him like that. You absolutely can't. You love hi-

Mm. Setting a determined look on your face, you grab Wheezy- yanking back to you by his vest and holding on tight. You need him to look at you, you need him to pay attention. You need him to listen to you.

Once last time. One last time, Wheezy... please, please...

Once, at some point, he must have really loved you in that soft way that you're supposed to love people- where you want them to be happy and want you back- and he has to have a little bit of that left. You have to believe that he does, at least. Because that is the part you need to hear you, right now.

"If you don't let me save him I will be trying to get away from you for the rest of our lives. You will never catch a break. You will never rest. Because the moment you do, I will be out the window trying to get back... to him... " Tightening your grip even more on his vest as Wheezy looks unimpressed, you go on; vanquished and gone of all your fight, all but a little bit. Enough to save Greasy. "... But if you do let me... "

"Nn... Y/N, no- "

When you don't go on, scared of what you're about to say and horrified at Greasy's state, Wheezy narrows his eyes at you to spur you to go on again. Taking a deep breath, you look away from Greasy and give Wheezy a quiet, sincere nod; brushing your foreheads together you're so close. "-If you let me heal him, then we can go together, and I will not try to escape. I will never, ever, leave you... We can fall in love again. I can do that! I will do it." You nod again, assuring you and him. Tears gather in your eyes but they just prove you're telling the truth, so you let them go. "You can have everything you want, we can go wherever you want, I'll be whoever you me to be...

Just let me heal him."

You search his eyes for a full minute, waiting for him to respond. Your tears fall down your cheeks and he watches them go and drip down off your chin onto the collar of your shirt, thinking... until his gaze nudges upwards to your eyes again; chewing something in the back of his mouth. "Fall back in love with me, huh? Y'can do that?"

Sniffling, you carefully nod. "Yes." Or something like love. Something disgusting, but similar. He wont be able to tell the difference.

Wheezy's icy, slate-grey eyes scrutinise you up so close, and you hold your breath- and you hold him, because he's holding all the cards and that's all you can do.

[pillow-anime-talk]

jolyne's revenge.

request: how would jolyne react if her boyfriend reveals that he was bullied by romeo jisso during middle school?

# tags: scenario; current relationship; mostly drama; also fluff; flashbacks; nightmare; crying mention; mention of being bullied; angry!jolyne; rather sfw

includes: male reader ft. jolyne cujoh & romeo jisso in the background {jojo 6}

↘ You’ve been dating Jolyne for many years. It was a really good and supportive relationship, although it was obvious you both had your ups and downs. Together with the girl, however, you had a relationship based not only on love, but also on friendship, thanks to which you could always be one hundred percent honest with each other. Trust was the most important thing for you in the relation.

↘ You had quite a hard time in middle school. You didn’t cause any problems with your behavior, your grades were satisfactory (for you and your parents), and you could boast of two close friends and, of course, your pretty girlfriend. Even though you were in two different classes during the school period, you spent a lot of time together during breaks and after classes (usually in arcades or manga shops).

↘ Your greatest and only nightmare during your teenage years was the presence of Romeo Jisso in your class. The boy has been in love with Jolyne for a long time, and since she had an amazing relationship with you, this has resulted in a growing hatred towards you. Romeo bullied you often; pulled your hair, destroyed your pencils and crayons, insulted you in front of other people, stole your money and wished you all the worst – including breaking up with Jolyne.

↘ Fortunately, the middle school period passed quickly and as soon as you left the school walls, you could breathe in peace and deal with more pleasant things.

↘ A lot of time has passed since the end of that stage of education, and in addition this year was your next anniversary with your beloved woman. It was pretty crazy that you guys were still together with strong feelings and a friendly atmosphere. You even planned to move in together, but actually you spent the night together, sleeping cuddled up at Jolyne’s house (her father, Jotaro, surprisingly liked you very much).

↘ Unfortunately you had a nightmare that night; you couldn’t quite remember what it was all about... Romeo probably took Jolyne from you and laughed in your face as he cheered your ignominious defeat. It was awful, and yet so abstract that you didn’t know if it was real or not... You awoke from your sleep thanks to Jolyne’s voice. She touched your face and sweaty forehead. Your entire back was covered in shivers.

↘ “Are you okay, Y/N? You were shaking a lot in your sleep and you started to cry.” She said concerned about your condition, smiling slightly to comfort your worried person. You didn’t cry often, maybe while watching movies or when Jolyne gave you a birthday present. Crying in your sleep was new to both of you.

↘ “Nightmare.” You answered honestly, rubbing your face with your hands.

↘ “Want to tell me about it?” She asked, while offering the glass of water that always stood on the cupboard next to her bed.

↘ You thanked her and told her about your dream and also the past. You had nothing to hide from your girlfriend. Of course, you apologized to her for keeping it a secret, but you admitted that you were ashamed of it and preferred to remember middle school as a time of study and time spent with the green-haired girl. You laughed a little, but there was also some emotion. You told exactly what Romeo and his closest friends were doing to you, and when you were done you thanked for the water and breathed a sigh of relief.

↘ Looking at Jolyne, you saw the bloodlust in her eyes. It was the first time you saw her like this, and it was strange for you (a bit). At first you wanted to speak, but the girl hugged you and then stood up.

↘ “... Where are you going?” You asked, surprised.

↘ “I’m goin’ to kick that jerk’s stupid ass. Maybe it’s too late and he probably doesn’t remember what he did to you, but don’t worry. I will remind him of that.” She smiled sweetly and then put on pants and a sweatshirt. “Shall we go?”

↘ Your girlfriend was insane when it came to hurting those closest to her, but she was definitely the most wonderful person you had in your life and you were grateful that you could have a relationship with her.

[b--b-3]

Sooo I've decided to finally cross-post my Obey Me crack-fic from ao3, I hope you enjoy!✨️

°•°•°•°•°

Cheek Clappin' Behavior

Ch.1

summary: Mc gets bamboozled by the game we all know and love 😭. They also happen to get yeeted right into it at full throttle, oops. How, you ask?? Who knows-

warnings: swearin/strong language, a quick innuendo, Mc just bein straight up wild tbh

misc: this fic doesn't accurately follow the story, literally just random shits 'n giggles for now lmao [pls it's so unserious ajfjshsjs] + the memes you see edited were done by me in my absolute mess of a gallery 💀

word count: almost 1k

It was just an ordinary day for Mc… Well, that is if you could call simping for fictional characters from a story-based gacha game ordinary. Okay, maybe they're a liiiiiiittle bonkers in the head, but we still love 'em 😋.

[Mc's POV]

'You've gotta be clappin' my cheeks unequivocally rn.'

"How tf am I gonna pull up AND get bumblefucked by this yee yee ass game 🤨🤨🤨??" Okay, so maaaaybe I got raw-dogged by a fictional world, but I can fix this for sure‼️

.

.

.

Oh.

I didn't fix this. Far from it, in fact. Yet another 10 pull, wasted… 😟

Welp, whatever‼️‼️ Back to the story then hehEHEHEHE— HOLY FUCKIN' MOTHER OF GO— MAMMON YOU ABSOLUTE BABYGWORL TF YOU DOIN' LOOKIN' LIKE THAT?? 🤭🤭🤭

Even tho he plays hard to get, he ain't a match for MY sluttish behavior 🤪—

THIS? FUCKING?? $ Ł Ü ✝️? ? ? "The absolute fuckin' audacity I swear— AND this mf blushin' too? Consider tears runnin' down my leg fr fr for real fr‼️" YOU SEE THAT TUB OVER THERE MAMS?? YEAH HOP IN THAT BITCH CUZ I'M BOUTTA 😩😩—

Ahem.

Caught myself lackin' for a sec there sorry bout that y'all 💀—

I then end up playing this damn game for a psychologically questionable amount of time. Such a long time, in fact, my raggedy ass fell asleep with the game open. O p e n. I didn't even get to charge my shit— hot damn 😬.

.

.

.

Next thing I know, I'm exposing my eye sockets to a ridiculous amount of light.

✨️OWIE✨️—

Oh.

'Now why in the ass-eatin' fuck does this place look familiar?? This ain't my house OR my room🗿. Tf is goin' on in here on this ass-chappin' day 🤨🤨??'

Like, the more I look around, the more shit's appearance becomes clear to me [no d U h Mc?? C'mon get it together 😭].

'Tho it does look a bit [a fuck ton tf you mean?? 💀] like my room in Obey Me…🤔'

.

.

.

"Did my bitch-ass get isekai'd into the world of Big Boobie Bitches— I mean Obey Me??????⁉️🗣📢🔥"

.

.

.

' …You've gotta be tuggin' my schlong rn this shit is a different breed. No, literally. Does that mean I'm a whole ass sheep now⁉️ This ain't gonna work. I swear on my left kneeca—'

All of a sudden, someone's headass bursts into the room. I was about to chew them tf out like a baddie, but then I SEE 🕕🫦🕕—

'CERTIFIED BABYGWORL??? AJDJSJEEJ OMGOMGOMG IT'S HIIIIIIIM IT'S MAAAAAMMMMS OH MY—🥺🎊✨️🫧💖‼️🥰💛'

"Yo, human! Ya were s'pposed to hang out with me today! What's goin' on?"

I—

'Ugh. What a cutie 🥰. Look at him, lookin' at me like that 'n shit 😭💖.'

I stare right back at the white-haired babygworl— I mean demon, trying a lil TOO hard to fight the inner voices that are telling me to jump him unprovoked.

"Well, tbh tbh honestly tbh, I haven't the slightest fuckin' clue Monie.. Buuuuuuut you can still take me out if you want tho 👀." I give him a lil look. Yano, a look. A little lookie look. A look that looks like a lil look because it looks—

"Whatever, let's just go. You've been makin' The Great Mammon wait long enough." He then drags me outta the room as if I'm his bitch.

'OW MY PUSS- now hold on for just a diddly ding dang darn second ☝️🤓— here I thought it was supposed to be the other way around 🤨🤔❓️ ❓️ ❓️'

Welp I'll just have to worry about it another time ig 🤷.

Anyways, now we were makin' our way [downtown] through the Big Ass House of Lamentation, BAHoL for short, trying to get to wherever tf Mammon has plans for. Well, that is until we run into a certain someone.

.

.

.

'GAAASSSPP IT'S HIIIIIM‼️ LEVIATHAN THE SWEET BOOOOOOYYYYY OHFUCKOHFUUUCK 🥰💖🫧🧡✨️‼️'

"Yooo, Levi! Funny seein' ya outside ya room for once." Both Mammon and I then proceed to start gigglin' like two lil bitches lmao.

Until this mf turns around 🗿.

…My face just about shriveled up inside itself.

'DID BABYGWORL #3 GET EVEN QUIRKIER 😳😳😳⁉️'

"Levi.. you good?? You're looking a bit differently different there bud 😭😭."

'I swear to shit there are literal SPARKLES just shootin' me in the eyes rn.'

"Idk what you're talking abt lol." He blinks and just shrugs at me like absolutely NOTHING is wrong like wtf my g—

"Tbh tbh honestly tbh Levi you're looking MAD ✨️bbg✨️ rn and idk how to cope with that so I think it's best you induce an anime withdrawal for just a singular sliver of a second the sake of my sanity 🗣🗣."

It takes him a couple seconds for the matter inside his cranium to process whatever tf just came out my mouth.

"B-Bbg!? WOOOAAAHHHH❗️🗣🗣🗣📢💥.. I-I can't believe you're calling a no-good otaku shut-in like me that!" He takes a moment to cover his now blushing face sextillion times more than his hair already does with his hand.

'Omg what a lil cutie I swear— got me swooning 'n shit <3.'

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever! We've gotta get goin' now. See ya later, Levi!" Mammon cuts off the ENTIRE interaction quicker than it even started before dragging me away like a fucking rag doll.

'L?? M?? A?? O?? Tf is all this motion for 🫨🥴?'

What the plans are?? I still haven't the slightest of darn clues, buT I GUESS WE'LL FIND OUT 🗣.

.

.

.

I kid you tf not we literally only managed to reach the main entrance before getting jumpscared by none other than Lucifer himself—

'EYE- SWEET MOTHER OF DIAVOLO'S (. )( .)‼️—'

[✨️To Be Continued✨️]

[dhampiravidi]

"Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me." (Pogue to Jayn ❤️ He likes eye contact ❤️)

"So, I take it ya like what ya see?" Remy LeBeau was hardly an inch away, and his hand still held hers. There was a slight chill, which made her realize that she was just in her oversized tee and panties. "Oh...damn, chere...you dress like dis f'me?" He kissed her and her head spun. It didn't take long before she was on the bed, hot Cajun superhero on top of her. They made out like they were in a movie. She was tugging on his hair and his hands were doing everything right...

"Mm, oh please, please, mmph--gods I'm--" Right as she started to feel fucking great between her legs, ready for him to blow her mind, the room and his face faded away. Jayn mentally screamed in the name of the injustice being committed. HOW DARE the universe--

She didn't even bother to open her eyes. The soft sound of the AC coming on was enough. Oh gee, real life.

"Hm?"

There was something firm and warm and nice on her legs: hands. Raising an eyebrow, Jayn (her vision still blurry from sleep) lifted up the sheet to find Pogue rubbing soft circles into her inner thighs and smirking up at her.

"Wondered when you'd wake up. I know we talked about that somnophilia thing, but...I could wait." Fuck yeah. Her perfect boyfriend had stayed up late watching movies with her, and the last thing on their list had been the X-Men cartoon from when they were kids (bless reruns). Apparently, he'd stayed the night, and apparently, she'd fancasted him as Gambit. Rogue was a lucky butt. "You plannin' on goin' back to sleep?" Pogue asked before he licked her through her damp panties. She whimpered.

"N-no..." He let her move so she could take off her underwear, then moved her back into place before she could rub her legs together. Pogue knew that having him there was her favorite position--his unbelievably strong hands held her open no matter how much she squirmed, and she loved the sexy look he got in his eyes during the whole thing. Oh yeah, and he was great with his mouth. Some wanted "neat" or some shit. She was perfectly fine with "messy and generous".

He swept his tongue up and down, back and forth, nice and slow, teasing her until she was fully awake and begging for him to fuck her. Then he slid two of his fingers inside her, twisting and curling. The whole time, she was gasping, desperately trying to thrust against something that'd give her some kind of release.

"Did he fuck you like this?" There it was, those eyes, that look--like he wanted to eat her alive. A chill ran down her spine, but it was an excited one. He was gonna wreck her. "Did he?"

"No, y-you didn't--"

"Hm?" His hand hovered over right where she wanted him. Where she so desperately wanted him.

"Mm?"

"Tell me what he did. Tell me how good he made you feel."

"We kissed..."

"That's all?" If he kept teasing and rubbing her like that, she was going to go insane in the next few minutes.

"It was you, okay?--y-you were Gambit, you saved me from this vampire clown who was very high maintenance, and then we flew to a hotel room and--"

"Es-tu aussi sucré que tes yeux?"

"Excuse me--what?!"

Pogue smirked, gently squeezing her inner thighs.

"Took French in school. Reid's idea." Of course. Reid probably thought learning French would get him a girlfriend--if not at Spenser, then in Europe. Jayn knew that Caleb had already been to England to meet his dad's relatives.

"So...? What was that?"

"More or less: 'Do you taste as good as you look?'"

"Pogue!" She might've hit him with a pillow if she hadn't been so busy trying to hide her embarrassed face in her hands. They both told dirty jokes, but he was a lot more creative than she was. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her stomach.

"So you don't want me to taste you, mon fille [my lady]?"

"Fucking--fine," Jayn mumbled.

He really didn't need to be told twice. He treated her like she was melting ice cream, and he wasn't missing a drop. Pogue just took his time, too, not going any faster no matter how much she whined or squirmed. "Pogue, pl-lease--"

"God, you look so good like this..." He sucked hard on her clit, and she might've screamed loud enough to wake up Caleb in the next room if she hadn't covered her mouth in time. "Oh, babygirl, I wanna hear you," Pogue said, words dripping with faux disappointment.

"I can't--"

"You can't? Is Caleb the one you want to fuck you?"

"No..."

"Then c'mon, Jay. And don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me." He was grinning before he even saw her dark irises. She was almost as hungry for it as she was.

[kuuyandere]

oh my god, my first playlist, I forget it exists half the time because it's so embarrassin to me, both due to the just shear low quality of production in the video as well as the relationship that playlist was about... I was a total mess back then, if it wasn't obvious in my song choice. it's kind of funny, really.. apart from the one requested playlist ("I can't breathe without you"), each playlist is actually about whatever I was goin thru at that moment, even if I pretended it wasn't. but I suppose, yea, the songs themselves n the playlist is still fine, altho lookin back I just see it as a mess of a playlist... but then again it was a playlist that was actually very similar to how I'd breakdown in the ups n downs in such a short period of time, and I'd cry to it often back then. I find it funny that one is your favourite, or mayb you're more of a mess than I vibe checked you for sjdhhdh. the cutesy playlist was more so made out of tryin not to be such a mess with my emotions in the playlist, but it did ultimately feel distanced from how I felt at the time, as it was far too "held together" than I actually was, but I like it simply as something to listen to rather than pure vent. but I also think it helps paint the stark contrast in me of sometimes bein very lovey dovey... then very murdery stabby. I didn't touch on my motivation for "my lovely sunshine" previously, but that one was about how I was tryin to be normal after that wreck of a relationship, but found myself slippin back into the same insanity as before with another guy. oh yea, I am very gay for men, and it probably will reflect that feminine-gayness in my playlists as I typically don't like to lean too much into masculinity personally, which may also be obvious if you compare my vent playlists to the requested playlist, where I didn't have that restriction of tryin to reflect myself.

if I had to say my personal favourites out of all the ones I've published... lost cause and blood on my teddy bear. lost cause is more a reflection on myself and thinkin over everything... and deemin my self a "lost cause" and that I probably won't be normal, and I guess acceptin myself, as well as makin fun of myself, and I find it to just be a fun playlist. blood on my teddy bear... I could be biased as I tend to be biased towards playlists I make recently as they reflect how I feel at the moment most accurately, but I like it for the storytelling I was able to weave in. some of my playlists as vibe playlists, like lost cause, but some are stories like you've noticed, and that one is a story... or rather me reflectin on a story long long in the past and retelling how I felt back then, and I've been thinking about that point in my life often lately, and I just like the songs, too.

for more on lost cause though, bunny boy and lost cause are kind of two halves of each other and we're crafted together, so I guess those two playlists can be considered pt 1 and pt 2? but they're also doing the same thing, reflectin, makin fun of myself, and acceptin the insanity I am

apologies if my thoughts on my own playlists aren't as artistic as yours on them, but for me I view them as snapshots of who I am/was rather than pure artwork, ya know ~🎵

I can definitely hear how these playlists are a reflection of yourself and your emotions from the different events in your life. And you are the creator, your thoughts are plenty artistic and it is astounding how much thought and effort you put into making these!

bunny boy: This playlist really takes a sudden turn from sweet and upbeat to grunge strangeness with the distorted vocals of the last few songs and the change in cover art and color. All of the songs have a strong background beat that tie them together coherently. It felt like a descent to madness almost, or the progression before and when someone snaps or has a breakdown.

lost cause: To me the energy of this playlist is sweet, but specifically sickly sweet like rotting fruit if that makes sense. It's sweet and sorrowful at the same time, like mourning a lost hope or innocence. The tempo is generally slower and the background music sounds softer and more lethargic at times like lo-fi even though the lyrics are yandere-ish. I find it interesting that this one is a part two of the previous playlist, and I can definitely see the similarities with showing that sweetness in different ways. I know you said that those two were in made in part as a way to make fun of yourself, but I suppose I see them as an homage instead, as they seem to fit the way you describe your more sweet and feminine "lovey dovey" aspects, "murdery stabby" side, and fear of abandonment all together to really showcase your yan experience. I definitely see how these two were reflections of yourself.

you're not allowed to leave: I thought the combination of being both a yandere and tsundere (tsunyandere?) playlist was interesting, and the song choices do reflect that with some sounding completely wholesome and cutely infatuated while others are more yandere-y. The music is mostly cheery in tone especially with the two songs framing the beginning and end, but a few scattered in the middle definitely veer towards a more crazed type of lovesickness. For me it also feels nostalgic and like summer, which is probably strange to say. The mental image I got was a popular high schooler girl getting a crush on the boy next door ("Backyard Boy"). They become friends with the girl being more tsundere towards him while hiding how infatuated and mentally ill she truly is for him. That is just my interpretation though.

[starlessskies94]

Wayfaring Stranger (Joel&Ellie)

A/N : I made a post about sending requests of my character Ada from my Last of Us story and Joel, Ellie etc... One of the suggestions I got was: Joel and Ellie singing together. I hope this is okay. It's based on the song Troy and Ashley sang together as the characters. I hope you enjoy this and I did the idea justice.

The wind howled across the town, whipping anything it could carry along with it. The storm most had predicted finally rolling in during the early afternoon. The town was in lock down as most had been advised to stay home. It had been a long morning and Ada had finally managed to make sure the barn was hunkered down and the horses calmed and fed. She could finally make her way home. She wrapped her coat tightly around her frame as she prepared herself to step outside. 

A strong gust slammed against her the moment she ventured out. It almost took her breath away. Still, she pushed on. Making her way through the empty streets and passed the quiet homes. Fires burning and families huddled up, watching movies, playing board games and anything else folks could think of to keep themselves occupied until the storm subsided. Patrols had been cancelled and Tommy and Maria had also taken the day off for a well deserved rest. She continued on, until eventually she stumbled up the steps towards her home. The door fought against her as she forced it closed. She latched it shut with a dull click, though it still rattled slightly against the frame as another gust picked up outside. She sighed lowly as she took a second to catch her breath then removed her coat and boots, leaving them by the door and stepped through the hallway in her socks. 

The house was quiet and still, while outside the wind clattered on the glass of the windows. Tree branches knocking gloomily on the panes and creaking at the wood of the frames. She slowly made her way up the stairs; about to call out for Joel and Ellie but stopped herself when she heard the light melody of guitar strings. 

"Damn it!" hissed a frustrated voice; as the strings were plucked harshly out of tune. "I suck at this!" the voice said. "No you don't. Just try it again." Another voice answered. Ada crept closer, keeping her steps light as she made her way towards Joel workshop room. Peeking through the crack in the door, she could see the two sat opposite each other. 

Joel with a music book in his lap, while Ellie had the guitar he had gifted her on rested on hers. Her fingers were plucking at the strings as her other hand worked along the frets on the neck of the instrument. Every so often she'd make a mistake and hiss a curse through her teeth but Joel would only smile patiently, leaning over to help guide her fingers to the right chords before telling her to try again. 

"Come on, try again kiddo. That last song I showed you." he uttered encouragingly. She eyed him sceptically but moved to changed chords anyway and started to play. Ada listened quietly, the girl nodding her head lightly to help keep her timing as she played.

"I'm just a poor, wayfaring stranger.  Travelling through this world of woes.  There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger.  In that bright land to which I go." She sang, Joel nodding along with her. "That's it keep going..." he said as he moved her hands to play the bridge.

"I'm going there to see my mother.  She said she'd meet me when I come."

"I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home." She swallowed hard as if unsure she should keep going but Joel simply tapped his foot against the floor to help her keep in time. "And drop your chords again for the next verse." he instructed. She nodded in understanding, twisting her hand around the neck again accommodate the change.

"I know dark clouds will gather 'round me I know my way is rough and steep But beauteous fields lie just before me Where gods redeemed their vigils keep. I'm going there to see my father I'm going there, no more to roam." 

Ada listened as she played on, Joel all the while watching her. Helping her when she needed it. Reminding her to change chords and what notes to play next if she forgot. As Ellie continued she changed frets and octaves naturally without Joel having to remind her. Her fingers deftly strumming away taking her into the chorus again.

"So I'm just a-goin' over Jordan. I'm just a-goin' over home." She played on..." Joel, I can't remember the rest of the words." She half-sang and spoke as the music continued to play but Joel nodded at her to carry on. Sitting up straight in his seat as he took a breath and sang the next part lowly himself. "I'll soon be free from earthly trials. This body rests in the old churchyard.  I'll drop this cross of self-denial.  And go singing home to God." Ada saw Ellie's eye light up at Joel's singing and her heart warmed at the sight. He tapped his hand against his knee as he gestured for the her to go up in chords for the bridge again.

"I'm going there to see my savior. I'm going there, no more to roam. I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home." Ellie slowed as she played. Joel smiling contently as he nudged her to finished the song with him. "I'm just a-goin' over Jordan. I'm just a-goin over home. I'm just a-goin'." They sang in harmony together. Ellie slowed even more until eventually she stopped altogether and moved the guitar from her lap and rested it on the stand beside her. The room was still after the music had died out, but comforting silence that held a softness of warmth within it. Joel sniffed a sigh that broke the quiet and smiled brightly at the girl sitting opposite him. "Not bad kiddo. You're getting much better." He leaned across and handed her the music book, she took it without a word and sat back flipping through the pages. 

"You take a look through that and let me know any other songs you wanna learn. Though I think you try Future Days again, I reckon you could handle it now." He stood and took her guitar before making his way over towards his work bench and pulled out a clean cloth to clean the wood and strings. Ellie hummed her acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the book. "You know..." She said with a smirk. "I think I get it. Maybe you could have made it even..." 

Joel arched an eyebrow in her direction at the statement, confusion clouding his features. "Made it to what?" He asked. Ellie shrugged, "You said when you were a kid, you wanted to be a singer." She explained. " I'm just saying, maybe you could have made it. You're not... completely terrible." She chuckled. Joel fought back a smile of his own as he leaned against the bench. "Thanks kiddo...I think." 

Ada smiled at the back and forth between them, turning on her heel to make her way back downstairs. She wouldn't intrude on their music session. This was their moment and she had no intention of putting an premature end to a father passing on his love to music to his daughter. Let them enjoy the quiet time while they had it. After all, they deserved a break. Lord knows they did. 

[fujipixels]

[arinbelle]

Made (Nessian Mafia AU)

A/N: In which I took forever yet again to update, and apologies first, this chapter is mostly filler for the next chapter. It is what it is. *shrugs* But! This does have that infamous scene in it that some of you kept asking about. Enjoy! 

Warnings: Triggers for SA, violence, swearing

~*~

Part XI

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.” - Paulo Coelho

~*~

Cassian stared at the box for a minute longer before standing up from his desk, leaving it behind. Azriel didn’t ask for an explanation to his silence but Rhys did.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing yet,” Cassian grunted, not in the mood to speak let alone think anything outside of the rage he was feeling. “I’ll be back.”

Rhys started at that. “I’ll come-”

“No.” He gave the order firmly, and there was no disputing it after that.

The box had come, earlier than expected, but it had arrived. There would be no avoiding it now. A few hours later, he got out of the car, nodding to his driver, and walked into Beron’s estate.

Not that he was surprised to see him, Cassian still fought off the irrational lick of anger that dragged down his spine and urged him to pummel Eris’ stupid, pretty face into a bloody pulp.

Eris’s serpentine smile made his skin crawl with the desire to burst out of himself and forget who he was and what he was responsible for, and just hit. His hands were itching for a fight, especially when he remembered just how much more Eris had than Cassian in that moment.

Nesta.

He had tried to ignore the memory of what they’d done in that bathroom, at a dinner to celebrate her wedding to another man no less. The way she’d screamed, moaned, as she went slick around him, and how right it had felt. How perfectly he’d fit in her and how well she responded to everything he threw at her. The way she gave him everything back too.

She was perfect and made for him, and if they weren’t who they were in this life, they would have been together long ago. 

“So, did you get the present as well?”

Cassian didn’t bother talking to him, only looking at Beron who murmured something to a man he didn’t recognize, and then dismissed him.

“Well, did you?” 

Cassian fought the urge to also roll his eyes at his Boss, because then he’d probably have to pay for it in a painful way that would only take up too much of his time. 

“Yeah. I got the hand.” A very bloody hand in the box, still attached to a wrist with the Cosa Nostra’s sigil tattooed on it. A clear and cut call out to all of them. 

“We got a tongue,” Eris supplied, grimacing, as if the memory was gruesome even to him. Maybe pretty boy didn’t like dealing with the messy side of business. Good. He’d always known Eris was a boy playing dress up in this world.

“Did you shit your pants when you saw it?,” Cassian sniped, reveling in the jab that would undoubtedly prove stupid eventually.

Eris volleyed back, “Suck my dick, asshole.”

Cassian leveled him with a glare he’d learned from Nesta. “No thanks. I like my meat seasoned.”

Beron finally shouted at them to stop, but Cassian could have sworn he heard a muttered, colorful swear under Eris’ breath.

“Any ideas on who it could be?”

Cassian scoffed. “The Irish, obviously. I don’t know any one else in this territory that wants to pick a fight so badly with us.”

“We didn’t do shit to them,” Eris insisted, stalking over to a small table to the side of the room and filling a cup with amber liquid.

“Tamlin’s family might disagree. Just because we didn’t do it doesn’t mean they know that or will care. He died on our territory. You know it looks like we’re involved.” He gave a pointed look to Beron who seemed to be considering his words better than Eris was. He was careful to not mention anything else about Tamlin, in case he accidentally let slip jut how involved he actually was in the death. Or worse, how Nesta had started it all.

“Tamlin didn’t have family,” Eris objected.

This time though, Beron interjected. “He had strong bonds with his men. They were going to vote him into power in a few years. His relatives were dead but he had a strong family in those people. I don’t think we can expect anything good from a war with them in his name.”

The first time Beron actually spoke something truthful and useful. Cassian hated him a little more for it then.

“Get your men on it. I want patrols on our cargo doubled. Make sure the risky runs are done by you or your brothers. I don’t want some low level petty criminal fucking up our work. And deal with this shit before my son’s marriage.” With that brusque order, Beron was gone, his bodyguards shuffling as the followed him out.

“Want a drink?” Eris held out another cup, sloshing at the bottom with amber liquid and Cassian accepted it after a few moments of suspicious silence. 

It burned as it hit the back of his throat but Cassian clamped down on the urge to spit it out, and swallowed. Eris eyed him knowingly and he knew exactly what the prick was thinking about. So Cassian drank the rest of the of his drink in one last drag, putting the glass down on the table with a bit too much force.

“You’re on edge,” Eris noted, walking over to the chaise and draping himself over it like he was already some sort of ruler.

“You would be too if your territory was the largest one to deal with. But last I checked Eris, you just play lapdog to daddy until he needs you to go out and make appearances.”

Eris gritted his teeth. “You know nothing about what I have to do to keep my territory and my people safe. I have family too you know.”

Cassian grinned, but there was nothing kindred in the motion. “Oh I know all about your protection. How well you take care of your mother for instance.” Eris’s hands tightened around his glass, the white of the knuckles almost glowing, but he didn’t retort back. So Cassian went on. “And I’m sure Mor would agree too- you take very good care of your people.”

Cassian could almost see the hiss that rose in Eris as he seethed. “You don’t know shit about that day. Don’t come in here acting all high and mighty when you don’t have all the facts, you-”

“I don’t need them,” Cassian interrupted. “The scars on Mor’s body are more than enough facts for me.”

“I didn’t touch her.” Eris’ eyes went vacant. Something like regret seemed to course through them for a moment, and Cassian almost asked if he really meant it. But he kept himself quiet, pulling out his phone and typing out the brief message.

“I texted Azriel to get on top of the cargos. I’ll be at the docks personally each night. Will you come?”

Now it was Eris’ turn to grin. “I have a wedding coming up. I’m not going to risk getting shot at your usual shitshow cargo hauls. I don’t think my bride to be would be too happy about it.”

Eris had no idea what actually made Nesta happy but just the mere mention of her from his mouth had him tensing up.

“She’s here somewhere, by the way,” Eris said, gesturing wildly behind him. “I don’t know specifically which room, but she’s having designers go through her dress fitting with her.”

Cassian nodded, getting ready to go, ignoring the ache in his chest that began spreading. He hadn’t seen Nesta in the two weeks since that disastrous meet up with her at the dinner party. It had been silent on both ends, and Cassian had resigned to accepting her choice even if it didn’t sit right with him. But her being in such close proximity, without being able to see her, touch her, taste her...it cut at him to the very core.

“The bathroom, if you need to use it, is straight down the hall,” Eris added with a scowl. Cassian only furrowed his brows at him, ignoring the strange statement, and picking up his jacket. It was only when he reached the door that Eris spoke again. “Although I don’t think Nesta will fuck you in this one today.”

Cassian froze with his hand on the doorknob. How the little fucker even knew...

He’d been so selfishly stupid, and he cursed inwardly. There were eyes everywhere. Anyone could be bought off. Anyone could be sold secrets, and Cassian wasn’t being careful.

To deny it would make him look stupid but to admit could possibly jeopardize Nesta. But Cassian had always been a fighter. Always ready to throw the first punch before he was pummeled into the ground, and this was no different.

So Cassian turned around to a smug looking Eris.

“You really are as stupid as they say.”

The insult rolled right off of Cassian. “And you’re just as spineless as I thought you were Eris.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter does it? She’s here with me, not you. So good luck at the docks tonight. I’d be careful of course, and if anything does actually go through that thick head of yours, you would too. But don’t worry, Nesta will be safe with me.”

Cassian raised a brow. “Is that a threat?” Cassian wasn’t afraid if it had merit or was as empty as every other proclamation Eris liked to make. He was a seasoned fighter and his men were loyal to the end. Even if Eris was stupid enough to have something planned against Cassian, it wouldn’t work.

“It’s a promise,” Eris splayed out his hands, as if offering peace with the mocking tone he’d taken on. As if he were talking down to a child. Cassian’s temper was already fraying and Eris needed to only push him a little further to see how good Cassian could make promises of his own. With his fists no less.

“I promise you Cassian, Nesta will be taken care of with me tonight. I’ll make sure we get to know each other better. Maybe even better than you? I tend to prefer beds to bathrooms but we’ll see what the lady prefers.” 

Cassian caught onto the double meaning right away and the insinuation, the fucking balls on the motherfucker, had Cassian rearing up to fight. But he kept cool, turning his voice to ice instead of the fire he tended to prefer when lashing out.

It would do him no good to resort to violence before it had been brought to him. A good Capo thought before acting rashly, and while Cassian didn’t enjoy any of what Eris was dishing out, it was just words at the end of the day. And words could be met equally with wit. Or threats, which was what Cassian preferred anyways.

“I don’t appreciate people touching my things without permission. Especially not cowardly little snakes like you.”

Eris wasn’t ruffled. “She’s not your anything last I checked.”

Cassian took him in. The swagger, the disdainful grace. All of his prettiness and refinement that Cassian resented him for. For being everything that Nesta could benefit from and everything that she deserved to be with. They’d make the perfect pair too, at least on paper and in all the tabloid photos.

Nothing like Cassian.

But Cassian smirked, taking in that perfection that Eris capitalized on so well. Remembered the bite that came from Nesta’s teeth and nails when he fucked her, the cruel, lashing of her tongue when he pissed her off. How she fought and snarled and hissed every time she was wronged. And above it all, how utterly strong she was. 

“She’ll eat you alive, Eris. I for one, can’t wait to see it.”

Cassian didn’t wait for another response, already out the door and meeting his driver at the entrance.

The driver was new, thanks to Rhys’ paranoia that Cassian may be a target and getting too cushy with just one driver was dangerous. It was also why his bodyguards around his house and the ones that tailed him sometimes were now on a rotating schedule that only Rhys or Az were aware of the night before. He’d told them both that they were being worried about nothing, that he could handle himself, and that he was perfectly safe.

That had been before the maimed body part had appeared on Cassian’s doorstep, somehow passing through his security and perimeter around his house.

Rhys hadn’t said anything as he’d left them in his office that morning, but the knowing glint in his eyes had been enough for Cassian to know not to argue about the matter any further. He’d become lax and the shortsightedness had cost them a good man. He’d need to make sure to make the rounds to his wife and children before the week was out. And arrange funds to take care of them.

“Where to boss?” The thick Brooklyn accent that greeted him had Cassian feeling at home already with this new driver. He hadn’t minded the old one, but considering he had been some ex-White House bodyguard from D.C., originally from Texas, there had been little to talk about between them. 

“Home,” Cassian told him, thanking him a moment later. Cassian was in the process of opening up a string of texts from Azriel when the car jerked to a halt, sending Cassian careening forward sharply. What he saw out of the front glass was more shocking than the sudden stop they’d come to. A bit welcome to, but Cassian didn’t think too much about that as he undid his seatbelt.

~*~

Nesta tapped her foot impatiently against the gravel as Cassian got out of the car. He waved his hand inside, murmuring an order too low for her to hear, and she watched as the driver nodded and put the car into park.

Cassian made his way towards her, taking in the fact that she was blocking his car in the middle of the road with only her body, so boldly it was bordering on suicidal. But there was no reaction on his face at her stunt.

"Yes?," he challenged, smirking at her with wicked intent.

Bastard.

Nesta opened her mouth, steeling herself for whatever he may respond back with. Straightening her spine and lifting her chin defiantly before accusing him.

"I heard you in there," she told him.

No reaction.

"Heard what you said to Eris," she amended abruptly, hoping to catch him off guard. But Cassian had long since learned to not fall into her traps.

"And?" He quirked a brow at her with cool amusement.

Nesta stepped forward until her face almost brushed his chest and she could smell the cologne she'd often let herself get too carried away with remembering. His hazel eyes glinted with nothing but predatory glee but she would not lose to him this time.

"I don't care what you think you're doing or what you plan to do. All I know is that you need to back off. Let's get it cleared up right now- I am not your thing."

Cassian cocked his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "No?"

Faster than she saw coming, Cassian's hand shot out and wrapped around her throat, pulling her face closer as he leaned down.

The proximity had her reeling, after so much distance had been put between them. Distance she had put between them and had regretted every hour since. Memories of their last meeting still clouded her mind during almost every waking second. She’d missed the heat of his body, the weight, and while the sex had been fantastic as it always was between them, there was something more there. She’d missed him so much it had hurt. And then, just like that, he was gone as quickly as he’d come, leaving her confused for the rest of the dinner, where she’d sat mostly quiet and burdened by her thoughts.

Cassian's hand didn't hurt her. Nor did they tighten or squeeze. He'd done it before, when he fucked her, and she'd liked it enough to allow it. But it was too possessive for her to allow anymore, no matter how much she secretly relished it inside

Cassian's finger brushed past her neck, tracing the tiny tattoo she had behind her ear. The sign of his crest. His insignia. The same one he had on his chest, only smaller and less visible.

Nesta knew what was coming- the call out she was about to get. She had no idea how he'd known it was there there. She'd been so careful to keep it hidden from him, yet once again, there wasn't much Cassian didn't know about when it came to Nesta.

"You wear my mark, bella. Of your own volition I might add. You're not my thing you say?" Cassian's free hand wrapped around her waist, pushing her closer into him as he nipped at the tip of her ear, before backing up to look at her agin.

“No,” Nesta maintained, but the confidence was slipping. She’d been caught, the proof a literal brand of ally-ship to him, etched permanently into her skin. “What do you care anyways? I’m getting married in two days. It’s not like you’ll be there.” She’d checked the guestlist every morning on her laptop, hoping the number would change and she would see Cassian’s name RSVP’d in as well.

It had never changed.

“Do you want me to be there?” There was nothing kind in the question. Harshly spoken between the shared space between their mouths, Nesta could practically taste the derision.

“I don’t give a shit what you do, as long as you don’t fuck this up for me. This wedding is important.”

“Why? Because Nolan said he’ll free you from your debts if you go through with it?”

How he knew, who exactly had talked, Nesta had no idea, but she kept her breathing under control. “Why are you asking me if you know everything?”

Cassian’s breath came out strained. “He’s going to screw you over, somehow. Don’t trust him.”

“What is my alternative, Cassian? I was blindsided by this proposal, yes, but it solves all my problems. Why are you trying to ruin freedom for me?”

“Because this isn’t freedom. It’s actually the complete fucking opposite. How do you not see that?”

Nesta pushed against him, and he let his hand drop from her throat, settling it on her shoulder instead. Still an embrace that could get them both into serious trouble if anyone saw, but Nesta had more pressing concerns.

“I know exactly what it is. Stop trying to teach me as if you know better than me. I get that you’re a Capo and everyone else falls at your feet for advice and shit, but that’s not me. I don’t need your advice and I don’t need you to save me.” 

“But do you want me to?,” Cassian asked, eyes wild suddenly as if he himself hadn’t realized the force of the words he’d spoken until they’d left his mouth.

Nesta shook her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Cassian brought his free hand up to trace the side of her face. Dragging over her cheek. “You don’t need anyone to save you, baby. I’ve known that from the first day I met you. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have someone there to do it. Do you really want this wedding? Tell me yes right now and I’ll drop it forever. Tell me you want an entire life of him, and I will cheer with everyone else when you say I do.”

She couldn’t. Nesta could feel her throat constrict as the urge to cry suddenly overwhelmed her, and it took all of her effort to not break down then and there.

“I signed a contract,” she finally managed to say.

Cassian shook his head, and the black strands, more unruly than she’d ever seen them, bounced around his face. “We have lawyers, that’s not a problem. And that’s also not an answer.”

There was only one answer she’d grant him, even if it tore her inside to not admit the truth. The truth that if she could have her way, she would go back to all those months ago, when Cassian had all but confessed how he felt about her and she’d turned him down. If she were allowed a redo, she’d accept everything he gave her, giving him all the love she’d denied she felt for him back.

Nesta leaned up on her toes, pressing her lips to Cassian’s, letting herself luxuriate in the feel of his mouth on hers for the few seconds she’d let him. She was the first to pull back, as soon as he snaked a hand down to her hip and pulled her closer.

“I’m not yours to save,” she whispered against his lips. Cassian looked at her bewildered but then he was leaning forward again. For a moment she thought he would try to kiss her, and damn it all, but she knew she would let him. 

Instead, Cassian's breath was hot against her ear as he whispered into it. "Every inch of you has been claimed by me.” His finger traced the tattoo behind her ear for good measure. “You are mine. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. A ring and a wedding doesn't change shit about it. You would do well to remember that yourself.”

Before she could retort, bite back in any and every way that she knew how, Cassian let her go just as swiftly. He was to his car before she’d calmed her breaths and driven off far into the distance just as soon.

Nesta took a few moments to compose herself before going back into Beron’s home.

She didn’t know if anyone had seen their tense exchange but since the wedding was only days away, Nesta also didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit about what happened to her anymore as long as the debt between her and Nolan was settled. After that she’d have time to think through her situation. Maybe even plan an escape with enough time since the weight of her debts and constant call always from Nolan would no longer exist.

She sent the designers away within minutes after spending nearly hours nitpicking tiny details about her dress and makeup. Because while their presence earlier had been a welcome distraction from not thinking too hard about the impending day she had coming, now it would just serve as an irritant. 

Nesta thought about Cassian’s hands. How they’d felt around her throat, his chest against hers, and that toe-curling heat that resounded between them. She’d wanted to kiss him the moment she saw him. Go after him in his car and run far, far away from all the bullshit around them.

In another world maybe they’d have time. But not this one.

“The dress is lovely,” Eris noted, hanging in the doorway of the room she’d been given to stay in for the week. It was considered improper for an engaged couple to live together before marriage and so the decision had ultimately been made for Nesta to stay under Beron’s roof. Seemingly neutral territory as nothing could occur between her and Eris that was considered improper. Little did the families know, and likely Eris too, that Nesta wasn't the blushing virgin everyone expected her to be.

Tomas had seen to that, scaring her enough to get into bed with a man as soon as she had been free of him. Trying to rid herself of the feel of his hands roving over her body and the fear that came from men sizing her up as their next meal. 

Nesta had become the predator instead, become the one in control rather than ever letting anyone ever have power over her like that. When they had become hungering wolves, she’d become a lioness, and none had ever been able to match her, let alone tame her.

Until Cassian of course.

How would Eris react, she wondered, if he ever found out about Cassian and every filthy, debauched thing she’d let him do to her. Had welcomed him to do, over and over until there was nothing but harsh breaths and only his name left in her head. No doubt, the wedding would be called off immediately. And-

“Nesta?”

Nesta looked at Eris, and realized he had asked her something, but the words had flown right over her head.

“Sorry, did you say something?” She flashed a sweet smile that would have made Elain proud. “I’ve been out of it lately. It’s this wedding planning.” She threw in a girlish laugh to sell it further. Eris had no idea who she was, what she was capable of, or who she could be. And the less prepared he was for her, the more she could use it to her advantage.

Eris smirked entering the room, shutting the door behind him. Nesta tensed at that, at the memories it conjured of another night with a different man, but she tried her best to keep the pasted smile on her face in place.

“Did Cassian wish you congratulations?”

Nesta raised her brows but kept the same reserved expression in place. Happy but not excited, gentle but not emotional. She had no idea how Elain did it so well. “Yes, he did. Thank you for asking.”

Eris nodded. He moved closer, taking in the dress she still had left on her bed. “It’s beautiful. I know it’s probably not what you had in mind for your wedding, but it is lovely. And I’m sure you’ll love just as wonderful in it.”

Nesta shrugged her shoulders casually. “No, I like the dress. It’s exactly what I had in mind.”

Eris lifted his chin, almost in defiance to her. “Really? Because from what I understand, Cassian isn’t impartial to white, only red. Although I guess, even if you were his bride, you would still be wearing white.”

Nesta schooled her features into her regular mask of disdain. The shock of Eris’ jab, what he clearly knew all about, all faded away as he sat down on the bed, settling casually right beside the dress.

He dragged a hand down the beaded material and it made Nesta want to throw up. “Let’s get some things clear.” 

His amber eyes flashed with irritation as he roved them over her body. Not with lust or interest in the way most men her entire life had done. No, this examination left her feeling more colder, more hollow, because it was all cruel calculation.

Where most men saw a vessel to fuck, Eris assessed her by how well he could use her and their marriage to his advantage. No doubt to likely become the new ruler of the Cosa Nostra. She decided that Eris’s gaze was far more deadly in that moment.

 “I don’t care about Cassian, or whatever you two’s convoluted past is. I do care if you continue fucking him after we’re married. I plan to take over for my father soon.” He didn’t say by force but Nesta knew enough about the power plays that had been in the works for a while, especially in New York. “It would be...untoward for my wife to continue an illicit relationship with a man who would end up being competition when the seat for Boss opens up. So, if you want lovers, I don’t care as long as you’re discreet. And when the time comes, you bear me children. But Cassian is out of this for good.”

Nesta didn’t say a word. Didn’t give him anything more to work against or manipulate. Eris got off the bed and stalked over to her. He didn’t touch her, didn’t even come too close for comfort. But suddenly the room felt too small with him in front of her and the ultimatum he’d thrown at her.

“And if you don’t listen Nesta, this wedding is off. I can always go for one of your sisters if need be. Last I checked, they aren’t the ones that owe debts to Nolan.”

Nesta sucked in a harsh breath and Eris smiled smugly. “Yeah I know all about that, so I’d stay in line if I were you.” 

When Nesta again didn’t give any clear answer, Eris gripped her chin in a stern grip. “Do we understand each other, Nesta?”

Nesta nodded, already decided on breaking Eris’ hand as soon as they were married, as payback. 

“Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and she suppressed a shudder. There was no emotion in it again. No lust. No ulterior motive to bed her. Worse, it was carefully planned out, as if Eris had been ready to talk to her about his demands, and had planned out how he would leave her as well. To any outsider, it would look like a loving fiancé saying goodnight to his bride to be before bedtime. 

Nesta found sleep elusive long after Eris left her, and she was only left with thoughts of Cassian and the inevitable catastrophe that was bound to happen in two days time.

~*~

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[erodasfishtacos]

Not So Easy

prompt: Harry and Y/N have both had a rough week. Ivy is in the prime of her terrible twos. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: swearing, smut, a little angst

AN: Fulfilling this request ***. This is part of the CEO!Harry verse. If you enjoy please like, reblog, and come chat with me about it x 

*** <--- click for visuals

-----

It was a gorgeous, cool Saturday evening and Y/N had been cooped up in the house all week due to nasty rainstorms that lasted the whole week. All of Y/N’s friends had canceled plans for one reason or another. Anne came down with flu and couldn’t visit like she was suppose to.

Harry had an extra awful week at work - which was saying something - and hadn’t been able to let it go. The frustration and irritation he usually was good at leaving at the office at the end of the workday hadn’t been happening.

Ivy was in the midst of her terrible twos and quite frankly it was disaster for all of them.

They decided on one of their favorite restaurants about an hour outside of London near the beautiful, green countryside. ***

It was a family-owned Italian establishment with outside seating on the patio. The tables were filled but Harry always managed to squeeze himself into a non-existent reservation with his charm (and wallet).

When they’re escorted onto the deck, Ivy had Harry hitched up on his hip and wriggles her into her wooden high-chair with little difficulty - she had just woken up from a nap and was in a seemingly okay mood.

Y/N notices a few pairs of eyes watching them from the table close to theirs but decided that she was just being paranoid. And if she brought it up to Harry she knows he’d immediately tell them to fuck off and mind their business. 

They get Ivy settled with her favorite little sensory book and her plush baby doll ***, as they look at the menu, “I’m so hungry,” Y/N grumbles, unable to decide what she wants to eat, Ivy literally running her around all day with no time for refueling.

“Me too, y’didn’t let me finish my meal earlier,” Harry murmurs cheekily, looking at his wife over his menu with a raised eyebrow, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for dessert.”

“Baba’s asleep, she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow,” Harry tells his wife, trotting in their bedroom. He’s already stripping the shirt off his head and wriggling his running shorts down his narrow hips.

Y/N’s laying on the bed, too distracted by her romance novel to notice Harry’s actions - well until he yanks at her ankles until her bum skids towards the end of the bed, she lets out a surprise yelp at her husband’s strength.

He plucks the book from her hands and tosses it to the floor with a thump. His hands are hurriedly reaching to pull down her shorts and panties with impatience at having his wife bare before him.

“Someone’s a bit horny,” Y/N teases, raising her hips to let him slide them down before they join the book on the floor. He ducks down to bite at the soft skin of her hip bone, suckling a dark mark there in ownership.

“Have y’seen yourself, pet?” Harry replies lowly, unable to help himself as he dips down and swipes a long, languid lip up her center with no warning. It has her moaning and pushing herself into his mouth.

“We don’t have long, H. Need you in me,” His wife whines, pulling him up by his hair until he’s slipping his tongue right into her mouth, wasting no time to hike her hips up around his waist and pushing in with one strong, directive thrust.

Y/N blushes and darts her eyes back down to the menu, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you.”

Harry laughs, eyes wrinkling around the corners, “Y’know even when I’m not good, y’let me.”

It was very very true.

“Oops!” Ivy squeals when her doll falls to the ground. It was one of the new words she’s finally understood in context and it’s unbelievably cute to hear her high, little squeaky voice.

“S’alright, here you go bab,” Harry titters, reaching down to toss it back onto the table for his daughter. She looked so fucking adorable tonight in what Y/N had dressed her in a little Gucci jean jacket with matching jeans. ***

Ivy manages to keep herself pretty occupied until she needs a diaper change. The meals had just arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven, but Y/N slings their diaper bag over her shoulder and totes the baby off to the bathroom.

Harry watches them, like the protector he is until they make it to the bathroom safely. He can sense eyes on him (the same group Y/N thought was watching) but unlike his wife, Harry makes eye contact with the table who were staring directly at his wife and then him.

“Can I fuckin’ help you?” Harry asks bluntly, not hesitating to stare down every single person at the table. He didn't want anyone staring at them, staring at Y/N, staring at Ivy. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace with his family. He assumed they probably worked for him.

They avert their gaze from the intense man, acting nonchalantly and sipping at their glasses filled with wine as if they weren’t just staring at them. It makes Harry scoff loudly enough so that they can hear it.

When Y/N appears back with Ivy and attempts to plop her back into her seat, her limbs go wiggly and her eyebrow knits with refusal, letting out little kicks, “No mummy, no!”

“Baby, we’ve got to eat now. How ‘bout after we’re done?” Y/N hums in her daughter’s ear, attempting to steady the toddler’s legs to slide into the slots of the chair. 

Y/N knew it was going to be a struggle since Y/N told Ivy she couldn’t have the big stuffed animal that was in the gift shop on the way to the bathroom.

“Mummy! Don’t wanna!” Ivy protests loudly, her face pinched with her terrible twos anger as she squirms and twists in her mother’s grip.

“S’okay, give her to me,” Harry tells his wife, taking Ivy in his lap. She smiles with deep dimples up at her father before going to reach her little fingers into his pasta. “No, Ivy. S’hot, it’s goin’ to burn you.”

Ivy pulls her brows together, decidedly not liking what her dad had to say, because she’s reaching out once again. “Ivy, daddy said ‘no’. Be a good girl and listen.”

“Mine.” Oh god, her favorite word at the moment.

“Ivy Elizabeth, s’not yours. S’daddy’s. Mummy ordered you chicken, which she very nicely cut up for you. You need to eat that, lovie,” Harry uses a bit of a firmer voice with the little girl, pulling her plate of cubed of food over.

“Here, bub,” Y/N takes a small piece, bringing it up to her daughter’s full lips. Only to be met with a hand batting it away until it’s being flung limply to the wood floor with a screech.

“No, want that,” Ivy huffs, once again reaching for her father’s steaming plate. She’s nearly close to getting her finger into the burning sauce so Harry has to scoot his chair out a bit so she can’t reach it anymore.

The parents give each other a knowing look because of what is surely about to come. The baby was struggling with being told ‘no’ as of late, as well as claiming nearly everything as ‘mine’. Tantrums were in their prime right now and they thought the pre-dinner nap would have helped.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.

When Ivy realizes she’s no longer able to reach the food, she furrows her brow and pulls back her little fist, hitting at her father’s shoulder. It wasn’t often she tried to hit, likely because most times it landed her on the step for two minutes, but it’s like she knew they couldn’t do that here.

“Ivy,” Harry takes her small hands between his, “We do not hit, do you understand Daddy? S’not nice. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting ice cream before we go home.”

At that point, the little girl would normally calm down a bit and readjust because she really loved ice cream but it didn’t do anything to quell her anger tonight. She shakes her head, curly hair bouncing, before the tears start rolling.

“Should we just get this to go?” Y/N asks, knowing that the whole restaurant doesn’t want to hear the sobbing baby throwing a fit over not being able to dig her hands into her father’s dinner plate. 

“Probably best,” Harry grunts when Ivy wriggles and twists in her father’s grip with a frustrated whine, “She’s not goin’ to settle.”

“Down, let me down!” Ivy demands against her father’s grip, like she’s the one running the show. 

“Here, give her to me,” Y/N mutters, wrangling the toddler into a tight hold while Harry gets the waiter’s attention to get take away boxes and the check. He’s pulling out his wallet to slide out his black amex and put it on the table.

“Ivy, I’m going to put you down so I can get the diaper bag and your toys. Are you going to stay right next to mummy?” Y/N asks her daughter firmly, making sure her daughter’s little green eyes are meeting hers. 

Ivy nods but as soon as her feet hit the solid ground, she lets out a giggle and dashes from beside her mother. She doesn’t get very far because she’s running straight into the legs of another patron and tumbling on her bum.

She’s not at all hurt but takes it as an advantage to throw herself onto the floor, screaming and tears - the whole dramatic show because she’s not getting her way and well....she’s a two year old - that’s all the reason she needs, right?

Harry’s in full dad mode now, “I’ll get her to the car. Y’got this, love?”

Y/N nods, sighing at the loss of their nice dinner as her daughter has all eyes directed on their family - the last thing she wanted to happen. But she just focuses on shoveling the still hot foot into the plastic containers to take home.

“S’enough of that, Ivy. This isn’t how we act, hmm?” Harry hums, pulling his daughter off the floor and into his arms  - “What’s gotten into you, bug?”

Ivy sniffles, knuckling at her wet eyes,  “Home, daddy.”

“We’re taking you home, don’t you worry,” Harry chuckles, smiling softly when she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, thumb finding her lips. His large palm came to rub at her back and bounce her lightly.

When Y/N finally gets everything together, one of the waitresses - an older woman, stops by the table, “How old is your daughter?”

Y/N smiles, “Just turned two a month ago.”

The grey lady has a kind, knowing grin on her face, “What an age, huh? She looks like a little replica of your husband.”

The girl laughs, they can’t go anywhere without hearing that from someone, “Oh, believe me. They have the same attitude too,” She jokes, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I wish you two luck. Two is a very hard age, I have five kids of my own. Just appreciate it, even though the tantrums are a pain in the arse,” She says, patting Y/N on the shoulder before heading back to a table who was waiting on her.

---

Both the parents were frustrated, more so than they usually are with Ivy’s tantrums. They thought she’d simmer down once they’d gotten home but it had just revved up again when she realized she really wasn’t getting any ice cream.

“Shouldn’t have even promised her ice cream in the first place,” Y/N mutters with frustration as they stand near the staircase. Ivy sat on the step for two minutes in timeout, kicking her little feet against the marble.

“Right, because I knew she’d decide to have tantrums all night,” Harry shoots back, matching his wife’s tone. The screaming was echoing through the house, high-pitched and it just made you want to cover your ears from it.

Y/N rolls his eyes at him, motioning towards their daughter, “Well, this is your doing because you reminded her that she wasn’t getting it. You deal with it, I’m going to shower.”

“You’re not doing much to help anyways,” Harry hisses, their voices both low so that their daughter doesn’t hear - not like she would over the screaming match she’s having with herself. 

They rarely fought to be honest. This wasn’t even a fight - really. It was hard raising a two year old and they were learning as they went along. The couple was good at communication and working through their problems most of the time.

“I’m not doing much to help?” Y/N asks in disbelief, “Then if I’m no help at all, why don’t you put her down for bed? You don’t need me, obviously.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, his hand gripping the railing with a hard grip, “Don’t go twistin’ my words, that’s not what I said. Now you’re just lookin’ for a fight.”

“Yeah, because on top of a fussy two year old - I want to deal with a childish husband. I’m surprised you're not on the stairs, cryin’ about ice cream too with how you’re acting,” Y/N laughs - the sound crawling under Harry’s skin with irritation at her fake carefree attitude when she’s just as annoyed as him.

“You’re being an even bigger brat than our daughter right now,” Harry tells her, trying to keep his voice at a low volume but it comes out louder than intended. He felt himself straighten up and kept direct eye contact with his wife.

Y/N’s lips form into a tight line before gritting out, “Do not raise your voice at me. We agreed that no matter how frustrated we got we wouldn’t do that in front of our daughter.”

“Then don’t act so immature, ever think of tha’?” Harry bites, hating the he hears his work voice being directed at his wife when he never wants that. 

“How am I being immature? You promised her something that she didn’t get, then reminded her that she’s not getting it. I’m allowed to be frustrated with you!” Y/N whisper-shouts, Ivy is now distracted by taking her little shoes off and watching them tumble down the stairs.

“I have so many better things I could be doing right now than stand here and fight with you over our daughter having a stupid tantrum. I’ll be in my office,” Harry replies, because when he doesn’t know what to do and refuses to admit he’s wrong - he falls back to his best excuse, work.

And he automatically regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt cross his wife’s face. Harry wants to swallow back those words and wrap his wife up into a hug. Never wanting to make her feel like his work is worth more of his time.

Deep down, they both know she knows that it’s not the truth but in the midst of the fight it doesn’t sting any less. He opens his mouth to apologize, to tell her that he’d rather put their daughter to bed together any night than be in his office.

But he can tell she’s already past the point of being pissed when she replies calmly, “I’ll put our baby to bed. Go work on whatever is more important than us, Mr. Styles.”

Harry wants to reach out and grab at her arm, tug her into his chest, and murmur in her hair how much he loves her more than anything. He said that because he knows it’s hurtful and it’s his only way to win an argument with her.

However, she’s moving up the stairs, scooping the somewhat calmed down baby into her arms and trudging up  without another look at her still brooding husband.

Harry hears Ivy shout back down the stairs, “Daddy, come on!” 

He hears his wife tell his daughter, “Daddy’s too busy with work, Ivy. S’just mummy.”

But that has Harry absolutely fuming, storming up the stairs after then, “Do not make it seem like I’m ever too busy for my daughter. That’s completely uncalled for, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t turn back to face him, instead keeps walking, and says with a monotone voice, “Oh, but you just said you had better things to be doing than dealing with your family. So go take care of your work, hot shot. I’ll take care of our daughter.”

“Why are you making it seem like I put my work before Ivy? I’ve literally never let that happen and you know that. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion because Ivy’s been having tantrums and you can’t put on your big girl pants and deal with them.”

That’s when Y/N spins around on her heel, letting Ivy down and encouraging her to go play in her room for a little before bedtime. Her face is turning red - which rarely happens unless they’re really about to get in an argument. 

“Big girl pants? Really, I’m at home dealing with her tantrums twenty-four seven. You get to come home from work and only deal with it half on the time. Do not act like you know how stressful it is to stay at home with a toddler in their terrible twos all day.”

“Do not act like it’s harder than running a multi-billion pound business,” Harry scoffs, his voice becoming lower with frustration with an argument that was going nowhere. He had a cocky lift to his voice that made her want to scream.

“Oh, because it’s so difficult half the time?  Last week, you got to go on your private jet to Paris for three days for business aka dinner and golfing while I sat at home alone!” Y/N raises her voice, angry tears forming over her lids.

“Sat in our 35 million pound house with a pool, playground, plenty of shops in town, unlimited money doesn’t sound like a hardship, love,” Harry replies, jaw clenching but his fingers itching to brush the tears away.

“You know what? It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’m going out. You watch her for the whole fucking day and see how easy it is. For now, enjoy the guest room,” Y/N spits out, storming down the hall to Ivy’s room to get her ready for bed.

“With pleasure,” He tells her, retreating back into his office and slamming the door. He wasn’t a fucking inadequate father. 

He never put work before his family. He knew it wasn’t easy being at home and as soon as he sat his arse in his leather chair - he realized what a douchebag he was being to his stressed out wife. 

Harry didn’t want to sleep in the guest room, he wanted to be spooned up next to his wife, whispering apologies for letting the stress of the week get to him. Remind her what an amazing partner and mum she is to him. How lucky he is.

The issue was - Harry had pride issues. He wasn’t one to admit defeat even when he should. He thrived on challenges so he was eager to show his wife that he’d have no problem taking on his terrible twos daughter.

He sneaks into his daughter’s room after she’s fast asleep in her crib, checking on her to make sure she’s okay before hesitantly entering their bedroom where his wife is fast asleep but a pile of clean clothes for him on the floor tells him she was serious about him sleeping in the guest room.

It was torture, not being able to be in the same bed as his wife. The love of his life. He thought about it multiple times - going in and groveling but his stubborn brain wouldn’t allow it. After such a long week, he was looking forward to sleeping in and his head hit the pillow in no time.

--

“Rise and shine,” His wife's voice wakes him up, it wasn’t with her normally cheery tone but with the same irritation as the night before. She definitely hadn’t magically forgiven him yet - dammit. Her voice is nearly drowned out by a fussy curly-haired baby.

“Wha’s wrong?” Harry grunts, sitting up to see Ivy still in her pajamas with sheet wrinkles across her face. Skin pink and warm from her nice, peaceful sleep. 

However, she decided to wake up today with a massive chip on her shoulder.

“Ivy’s upset because she can’t find her ballerina doll,” Y/N replies.

 Harry notices she is already fully dressed *** and made up for the day. “Might want to get up and help her find it. I’m heading out  like we agreed on.”

“Fine,” Harry replies with a tight lip, rubbing his eyes as he’s still half asleep. “Y’look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, leaning over to kiss Ivy on the forehead, “I’ll see you later bug, I love you.”

Ivy looks at her mother in betrayal as she leaves Harry to manage their little ball of fury. He tries to tug her in for a big, warm hug but she shrieks and screams at her father, “Ballerina!”

“Ssh, okay. We’ll go look for y’ballerina, dove. No need to yell, s’too early,” Harry grumbles, sitting up and automatically being pulled by the hand off the bed to search for this doll that could be anywhere in this thousands upon thousands of square foot home.

After extensive searches, Harry realizes that he’d left it on the roof of the car when he was tucking her into her carseat last night. The cute little plush doll is now mostly likely roadkill on the country stretch.

“Ivy, y’literally got a whole room dedicated to stuffed animals and dolls. Let’s go pick somethin’ from there, yes?” Harry tries, his daughter’s arms crossed and glaring at Harry like he had just killed her hopes and dreams.

“No! No!” The toddler absolutely wails, plopping her little diaper-clad bum on the ground before kicking her feet against the marble. She had herself worked up until her cheeks were cherry red and tears were staining her shirt.

Harry couldn’t lie - he’d only been watching her for about two hours and he was starting to feel anxiety creep up in his throat over what to do. It wasn’t that he couldn’t parent her, but it was a lot of crying and he hated seeing her upset.

“Why don’t we go eat some breakfast? Does that sound good, lovie?” Harry offers hopefully, having to contain a laugh at how much she looks like him when he’s angry. The little crease between her eyes, the green in her eyes sparkling a little darker than usual.

Her eyes peek up at her father, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sighs in relief, scrubbing at hand down his face, taking her into the kitchen, strapping her in the highchair before whipping up some cheesy eggs for her.

When he puts down the plate in front of her, he has to say she’s surprised when she slaps it off the tray and onto the floor, spilling everywhere. “No, want mummy’s breakfast.”

Her father looks at her with a comically bewildered expression before turning on his dad voice, “We do not throw things on the ground. Do you understand me, Ivy Elizabeth?”

Her full little lips are drawn into a tight pout as she tosses her baby fork on the ground to join the still warm eggs in a heap.  

“Mummy’s breakfast.”

The scolding goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn’t acknowledge her father but continues on her demands.

He caves after trying to no avail to decipher what ‘mummy’s breakfast’ means.

Ivy threw her eggs on the ground. She’s demanding mummy’s breakfast.

She’s hated eggs for the past two weeks now. Vanilla yogurt with diced strawberries and blueberries in her red baby bowl.

He does as she says, arranges a nice little bowl of yogurt with the fruit. He couldn’t find the red bowl so he substituted for a blue one. 

It results in the yogurt also being smacked to the ground. 

She threw that on the ground too.

Did you put it in a red bowl?

I couldn’t find it, just put it in a blue bowl

She only wants to eat breakfast out of red bowls right now

Harry groans, he didn’t know his daughter was this difficult about breakfast time. He was usually gone by the time she’d woken up for the day. Y/N usually let him sleep in a bit on the weekends until ten or so.

After digging for the specific red bowl, doing up her breakfast again - Ivy happily begins eating until it drips down her sleep clothes, rubbed all over her cheeks, and it even manages up in her tangled locks.

“S’that just so yummy, Vee?” Harry hums after she’s finished. “Looks like it’s bath time.”

He really should have guessed at this point when she shakes her head and squeaks, “No!”

“Yes, s’bathtime,” Harry says sternly, traipsing upstairs with the wriggling toddler who is doing everything in her power to fight against her father’s hold. 

“No, no, no. Ballerina,” Ivy brings it up again, making it a near impossible task for Harry to wrangle her out of her clothes and diaper. 

While he’s running the bath, she darts from the bathroom and through the hallways, right towards the grand staircase where the baby gate isn’t closed. Harry really really didn’t want to yell at his daughter but she could seriously get hurt.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, if you don’t get your little bum over to Daddy right now, you’re going on the step and y’not having playtime at all,” Harry orders loudly, but breathing a sigh of relief when his daughter skids in her tracks to a halt.

The little girl turns on her heels, eyes wide in fright at her dad’s raised voice - which rarely ever happened unless she really wasn’t listening. She begins to cry but not in her now typical anger-induced haze but in a legitimate sad wail.

His heart aches as his daughter toddles obediently back over to him with her little head hung low in regret, “Daddy, hold me?”

Harry can’t deny her so he scoops her up into the crook of his arm, “M’sorry for yellin’, bug. But y’need to be good for Daddy? You could have gotten really hurt and that would have made Daddy sad, okay?”

Her eyes are watery as she looks up at him, her hand curling around his neck before burying her still yogurt-sticky face into his skin, hiccuping with sad whines, “Sad Daddy.”

“Mhm, now are you going to be nice and get a bath f’me? Y’dirty, bubby,” Harry smiles down at her to brighten back up her mood and it works because her dimples pop out of her cheeks and she flashes her small blocky baby teeth.

Ivy surprisingly does well in the bathtub, allowing her father to get her all cleaned up until she accidentally opens her eyes and gets baby soap in them, it’s another round of tears that cannot be controlled.

Harry totes the sobbing toddler into a cute little Moschino onesie and brings her into their bedroom. He’s so fucking exhausted and it was barely noon. His stress level was near a hundred as he couldn’t keep her from being pissed off for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Luckily, it seems like the screaming and crying for the last how many hours had taken a toll on her because as soon as she sprawled on her stomach on Harry’s chest, she’s out like a light. The cutest small snores coming from her as she smacks her lips together while she dreams.

He gives her a few minutes to fall into a deeper sleep before tiptoeing her into her nursery and laying her very carefully into her crib. She doesn’t wake, just whimpers softly and turns on her side, away from her father.

When he’s sure she’ll be okay, he goes back into their bedroom, and well...he just breathes. He didn’t realize how high his anxiety had been up to this point and his whole morning had been nothing but trying to get his daughter calm. He didn’t even have one moment to think about himself.

It really wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Y/N being a stay at home mum - of course, he did. He already knew how bloody amazing and strong she was as a person, he didn’t need this to prove what he already knew. It was his stubbornness to not decline a challenge and they both knew that was the case.

Y/N really didn’t think that Harry doubted her abilities. He nearly spent most of his days telling her how proud he was of her and her abilities as a partner and mum. It doesn’t mean it didn’t sting when he brought up his job compared to hers.

Harry’s in his own world of thoughts that he doesn’t notice a figure leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, “You got everything under control, H?”

His eyes darted up to meet his wife’s, “Not really. She’s a little terror,” He jokes (kind of).

“It’s easy compared to your job, right?” Y/N asks but it’s obviously rhetorical. She drops a few shopping bags on the floor before leaning down to unstrap her high heels, kicking them off along with throwing off the blazer to the floor.

“I never said your job was easy. Y’puttin’ words in my mouth,” Harry argues, sitting up straight and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right. It’s just not as hard as your job,” Y/N huffs, unbuttoning the tight jeans and shucking them off her thighs. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing to him right now, his mouth nearly watering when her thighs jiggle a bit.

“You’re right, it’s not as hard as my job,” Harry replies, studying his wife’s face when she looks up in surprise - that he was really going to take the fight that far.

“Wow, you re-”

“It’s not as hard as my job, it’s harder,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to pull his wife to stand between his legs, her looking down at him with her hands on his shoulders. “

What I’m doin’ is nothin’ compared to your job. Y’raising our little baby, shaping her into a good person, spending every moment of y’day with her, giving up a lot of who you are for her. That’s more difficult than what I do any day.”

“Har-”

“M’sorry, lovie. Y’know I think you’re the most amazing mum and wife. You do everything for the baba and I. I shouldn’t have taken my anger from my week out on you yesterday and then said the things that I did,” Harry apologizes, his face sincere and open as he leans forward to nuzzle at his wife’s stomach.

When her hands come to run through his unruly locks, he knows he’s forgiven, “I appreciate how hard you work too. I really do, H. You’re the best husband and daddy to Ivy we could ask for. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you as well.”

“Do you ever feel like I put work before you or Ivy?” Harry asks softly against her thin tank top, his hands come to massage at her full hips. There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that made Y/N’s heart sink a bit.

“No, I really don’t. I was just...I was just upset and I knew that would upset you. I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N murmurs softly, leaning down to kiss at the top of his head.

“Y’going to let me show you how sorry I am, how good of a wife and mum you are?” Harry drawls, his hands going to tug up the fabric of her top and humming appreciatively when she lifts her arms to let him do so.

“Yeah, remind why I married your crabby ass,” Y/N teases playfully, reaching behind herself to let her bra fall down to the crooks of her elbows before tossing it to the floor with everything else. As she’s doing that, Harry takes it upon himself to shimmy off her panties.

“Y’sayin’ you just married me ‘cause I fuck you good?” Harry grunts, standing up suddenly and pulling her up into his arms until her legs are wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Mmm, mostly. Also for your bank account was pretty good-looking too,” She lies blatantly but he still rewards her with a bruising kiss to her lips as he backs her against the wall so he can use one hand to tug down his running shorts.

“I’d still have married you, best decision I’ve ever made,” Harry says, sobering up from their playfulness. He slows down to be careful as he slides up into her warm heat, her head falling back with a thud against the wall.

“Harry,” She moans approvingly, heels of her feet digging into his backside to goad him into moving faster, “Right there.”

“So bloody in love with you. Please tell me y’know that baby, c’mon, tell me,” Harry begs, leaning down to smear kisses against her collarbone.

“I know, H. You’re so good to me, I love you,” Y/N whines and Harry knows that whine like the back of his hand, she needs more. He reaches down to rub tight, rough circles against her swollen bud until she’s tensing and coming.

“You feel so good, every single time. Don’t know how you do it, s’like you were made just for me,” Harry chokes out, stuttering and coming with his lips suckling a deep spot onto her breast as he rides it out.

After they redress and are cuddled on the bed, murmuring sweet little apologizes and affirmations of love, they interrupted by an angry squeak from the baby monitor - signaling their daughter’s woken up.

“Ballerina!”

hope you enjoyed. please inbox me what you think, like, reblog.

[lilithbasically]

This is just something that’s been in my head lately. MINORS DNI

KirishimaXReader

“Best Friends”

Warnings: cheating, daddy kink, “Little One” used, fingering, oral (f receiving), seeeeeex, slight exhibitionism? Kind of?, like one thigh slap

W.C.: 1.7K

This was the very first thing I wrote and I’m honestly surprised by how tame it is compared to some of the stuff I write now.

How you happened upon that scene was quite the strange circumstance. Having gotten off patrol early thanks to your best friend, Red Riot, taking over for you, you were extremely happy to be headed home. Excited to spend extra time with your boyfriend, Denki, you showered and changed as fast as you could and ran out to your car.

Noticing a note left on your windshield, you picked it up and read, "If you get off patrol early, go straight home. I'm sorry. You need to know and you deserve better."

Confused but obviously needing answers, you did as the note instructed. Walking into your shared apartment, you heard the unmistakable moans and cries. Needing to know what you were hearing was real, you kept walking to your bedroom to be slapped in the face with your lover's indiscretion.

And that is exactly how you found yourself sitting in front of Kirishima's house, waiting for him to get home. You sent him a text, "Kiri...something happened. I'm safe but I'm waiting at your house. I need to talk or drink or cry or something. Maybe all of it mixed together, I don't know. Anyway, I'm here waiting til you get back."

Kirishima pulled into his driveway not 10 minutes later, practically leaping out of his car, bounding over to you, and scooping you up in a massive hug that only the 6'8" hero could do.

"I came home as soon as I could. What's goin on, Little One?" He asked, the familiar nickname warming your temporarily cold heart.

You sniffle against his chest, trying to hold back the waterfall of tears threatening to spill as you look up and say, "Denki cheated on me, Kiri. How could he do that?"

"Denki fucking cheated on you?? Are you sure??"

"I mean...I walked in on him impaling her to our goddamn bed so, yeah, I'm pretty sure," you grumbled.

"C'mon, let's get you inside and we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night, yeah?" Kirishima offered.

Kiri was always so good to you. You had been in love with him for years when you realized your feelings would never be reciprocated. So, you shoved them back and just held onto the amazing friendship between the two of you. Everything was always so easy with him. He was kind, sweet, strong, funny, and smart. Not many would assume that but he was, actually, very intelligent. He was also very, very, VERY fucking attractive. His muscles bulging with the faintest movement, showing their definition, seemingly taunting you. His smile was nothing short of gorgeous. His sharp teeth making you wonder how they would feel biting into your neck as he-

"Y/N??" Kirishima said, staring at you with concern flooding his ruby eyes.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Kiri, just got lost in my thoughts."

"C'mon, Little One. I've got just the thing for you."

Not five minutes after he shuts and locks his front door, you're pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around his waist, his mouth claiming yours. Heavy pants, rolling hips, and strong hands gripping your ass.

"Goddammit, Y/N...I've wanted this for so long..."

You can only respond with a breathy moan, your hands gripping his bright red hair as his tongue finds the most sensitive spot on your neck before his teeth sink in.

Kirishima stops to look at you, "Tell me if you want me to stop. If you say stop, I will and we'll watch a movie. No pressure. I don't want you to do something you'll regret and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You hold his gaze and smile, "Fuck me, Kiri."

"Oh gawwwd...," he moans, grinding into you harder and continuing his attack on your neck. Still holding you, walking to his bedroom, he sets you on the bed and hovers over you. Ghosting his lips across yours, you take the moment to pull at his shirt. Understanding your plea, he removes his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers straining with what you now realize is the biggest dick you've ever seen in your life.

Seeing you stare, mouth slightly open, he says, "Careful, babygirl. If you keep that mouth open, I'll have to fill it."

A surge of confidence flooding your system, you met his eyes before opening your mouth wider.

"Holy fuck, Y/N...next time...but for now," he stated before removing your shirt and pants.

"No bra? Shit...," he breathed, trailing his tongue down your neck, through the valley of your breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth. Sucking and biting gently while the fingers of one hand pinched and rolled the other.

Your back slightly arched as you whimper and whine, "Kiri, please...need you..."

"I've got you, Little One. You just lay there and let me take care of you, yeah?" You feel his hands slide down your body until they find the band of your panties. Dipping his hand further down, he runs the knuckle of his middle finger over your clothed slit before rubbing small circles over your clit.

"Fuck, baby...you've soaked through your panties already and I've barely touched you. Is this all for me? How long have you wanted me?"

"God, yes, Kiri. So fucking long...years...," you sigh.

Smirking, he slides your panties to the side. Watching every reaction you give, he inserts two thick fingers into your cunt, relishing the way you instantly clench around them. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth in an attempt to quiet the lewd moan threatening to spill from your lips only to be smacked away and pinned down.

"Don't you fucking dare," Kirishima growls, "You stay there and let me hear how good you sound while I eat your pretty little pussy, m'kay?"

He doesn't give you any time to respond as he immediately starts lapping at your clit.

"Ahhh...fuck, Kiri...," you moan.

He continues to suck and lightly graze his teeth over your clit as he curls his fingers up, finding the spongy spot that makes your back arch and instinctively jerk your hips back from the overwhelming pleasure. A sharp slap to your inner thigh brings your gaze to meet Kirishima's as he growls a warning to fucking stay still and let him enjoy his meal. Watching him devour your cunt like a man starved while he ruts into the mattress to relieve the painful strain of his hardening cock is what sends you hurtling over the edge. Vision going white, your body convulsing, breath shaky, you all but scream, "ohhh god, yes, daddy."

You feel Kirishima grin against your core as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. "'Daddy' huh? Let's see how many times I can pull that from your pretty little mouth, hmm?" He taunts as he removes his boxers and tears off your panties.

Kissing his way up your body, he stops to ask once more, "Do you wanna stop, baby? I'm happy just spending time with you. I love this and want to keep going but I'm perfectly fine with stopping whenever you say."

You shake your head side to side, signaling a solid 'no'.

"Nah, Little One. I need you to use your words."

"Please fuck me, daddy...I need you. Need you to make me feel good...I want you..."

"Holy fuck...," Kirishima whispers as he sinks his length into you. Hearing your whimpers, he lowers his mouth to yours, swallowing your cries while one of his hands rubs gentle circles around your clit to distract you from the stretch. It doesn't matter how wet you are, Kirishima's dick is in a league of its own.

"I know, baby. Almost there, okay? You're doing so well for me. Such a good little slut for me, aren't you? Ahhhh, god you're so tight...good fuckin girl. Stay just like this for a minute, baby," he coos as he licks the shell of your ear and peppers sweet kisses along your jaw.

You've never felt so full in your entire life. You could swear you're being split in half but god if it wouldn't be a great way to die. You can't help but grind up against him. The pain feels delicious and he just makes you feel so wanted and you need that right now. You've needed him for years and now he's here. He's yours and he's wanted you too and now you just need all of him even if it means his dick dissects you.

Kirishima grunts and stills your hips with one hand, "I'm trying not to cum like a goddamn virgin. Stop fuckin moving, babygirl."

"Can't, daddy. Feel s'full...please, Kiri...I don't care if you cum fast...just need you..."

"Goddamn it," Kirishima says before setting an unrelenting, brutal pace.

Feeling his balls slap against your ass while the tip of his dick plunges against your cervix, mixed with his moans and grunts, has you losing your goddamn mind. Your vision blurs as you cum again only to be interrupted by your special ringtone for Denki. You go to throw your phone off the bed until Kirishima snatches it from you and answers it; keeping his unmerciful speed.

"Aye, Denki, my man. Yeah...she's kind of busy--...what are we watching? Oh uhh...I'm watching my cock disappear inside her pretty little pussy. Your loss," Kirishima laughs as he throws your phone to the side.

You unsuccessfully try to contain the moan that escapes you as he lifts your thighs over his arms. "Yeah, Little One? You like that? Of course you do...you're my perfect little slut, right? Taking my cock so goddamn well...ah fuck, baby...give me one more. C'mon, you can do that for me, yeah? I wanna feel you milk my cock, babygirl. Be daddy's good girl...ahhh...oh fuuuck," Kirishima moans as his dick twitches inside you, filling you with hot ropes of cum while you ride out your last orgasm.

Both panting and sweaty, Kirishima falls to your side and pulls you into his chest, planting sweet kisses all over your face.

"Jesus fuckin Christ I've wanted you for so long, Y/N," he sighs, rubbing mindless patterns into your skin.

"Me too, Kiri. And, thanks for the heads up," you yawn out, drifting to sleep.

"Wait...uh, what?" He asks.

You snort out a laugh and tilt your head up to look at him, "You really think I wouldn't recognize my best friend's handwriting?"

_____________________________________________________________________________

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part v

Stepdad!Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: spit, semi-public sex, alcohol, oral (f+m receiving), male masturbation, female masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, hair pulling, cum eating

5.6k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

“Can’t I just stay the night?” Atsumu groaned as he got dressed.

“We’re going out tonight,” Osamu said, throwing Atsumu’s shirt at him.

You rolled over in the bed, pulling the blanket over your nude form. You propped yourself up on your elbow, appreciating Osamu’s strong body as he pulled his boxers up.

“Good morning, baby,” Osamu said, smiling as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“Mmm, morning,” you hummed. “What time is it?”

“Five in the afternoon,” he said. “You only slept for a few hours.”

You nodded, stretching out and yawning. “I’m going to shower,” you mumbled, sitting up.

You looked at Atsumu, who was still standing in your room.

“What?” He asked, finally noticing you staring at him.

“Get out,” you said, gesturing towards the door.

“Like I wasn’t just balls deep in yer pussy,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and walking out.

“Like you didn’t nearly cum in your pants while I choked you!” You called after him. You smiled as you heard him grumbling from the hallway.

“Ya okay?” Osamu asked.

You shrugged as you stood up on wobbly legs. “A little sore.”

You took a step towards your bathroom and your knees buckled. Thankfully, Osamu managed to grab your waist before you could fall.

“Let me help ya,” he said, holding you steady as you shakily walked to the bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the tub as he started the shower.

“I’ve got it from here,” you said. Your legs shook as you stood up but they stayed under you.

“Call if ya need me,” Osamu said, helping you into the shower.

You showered quickly. You brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before joining the twins in the living room.

“You never said where we were going tonight,” you said, curling up by Osamu on the couch. “How should I dress?”

“Casual,” he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “What you’re wearing now is fine.”

You glanced down at the sundress you were wearing. It was longer than your other one, so it already had Osamu’s stamp of approval.

You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’re getting dinner? Great, where are we going?” Atsumu asked, plopping down next to you.

“We’re getting dinner and yer goin’ home,” Osamu said.

“Worth a try,” Atsumu said, shrugging. “Kiss goodbye?”

“I’m gonna kick yer ass,” Osamu said. Atsumu stood with a smirk.

“Not even a lil one?” Atsumu said. You smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t forget to cover that bruise on your throat,” you said, sitting back down. Atsumu whipped out his phone, swearing loudly when he saw the hand-shaped bruise across his neck.

“Damn it, what am I supposed to tell the boys?” Atsumu asked.

You shrugged as you cuddled into Osamu’s side.

“That you like getting choked by cute girls?” You suggested. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Atsumu groaned out a goodbye as he left.

Osamu pulled you into his lap and peppered kisses on your face as you giggled.

“Not that I don’t like it, but what was that for?” You asked, smiling after he kissed your lips.

“What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Osamu asked, kissing your nose again. “Just wanna remind ya who ya belong to.”

“Never forgot,” you said, pecking his lips. “Need I remind you whose name I was moaning the whole time?”

You cupped his face and peppered him with kisses. “I love you, Miya Osamu.”

“I love ya,” Osamu said, kissing your lips one more time. “Let me go get dressed and we can go eat.”

“I guess I can let you go,” you said, moving off his lap. You laid on the couch, watching him walk down the hallway.

You checked your phone, responding to a few messages from your school friends and checking your socials. As expected, your mom’s ‘it’s complicated’ status had garnered a lot of attention. Comments ranging from ‘oh, i’m sorry sweetie’ to ‘i never liked him anyway’ to, to your joy, ‘he was too young for you anyway, don’t you have a daughter his age?’.

You cackled as you scrolled through the comments. Your mom had even responded to some, stating ‘he knows what he did’. You rolled your eyes and closed your facebook.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping in front of you.

“When you are,” you said.

The restaurant was small and cozy, with the scent of fresh bread filling the air. You smiled as Osamu led you to a table in a secluded corner, pulling out your seat for you before sitting across from you.

“Everything here is fantastic,” Osamu said as you read over the menu. “My friend from uni runs this place, he’s almost a better chef than I am.”

“Almost?” You questioned. “So humble, Osamu.”

“Miya-kun!” A man exclaimed, rushing towards your table.

“Takahashi-kun,” Osamu greeted, smiling at the man.

“It’s been a while!” Takahashi said. “This the wife?”

You winced.

“Ah, not yet,” Osamu said. “I’m actually in the process of getting a divorce. This is my girlfriend, L/n Y/n.”

You smiled widely. “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said.

“Nice to meet you! It’s nice that you managed to get Miya to drag you out here, he rarely makes time to come visit his old friends,” Takahashi said. “I think I met the wife once? Maybe twice.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Osamu said. Takahashi rolled his eyes. “You can also visit me.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Takahashi said with a small laugh. “Speaking of, what can I start you off with?”

Your food came out quickly. Takahashi made polite conversation before leaving you two by yourselves.

“So, tell me about your childhood,” you said. “I feel like we only ever talk about me.”

“What do ya wanna know?” Osamu asked, taking a bite of his rice.

“What are your parents like?” You asked.

“My ma raised us alone,” Osamu said. He smiled before continuing. “Our dad wasn’t that great, he left when we were still babies.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “He wasn’t a great guy, anyway. Leaving was probably the best thing he ever did for us. He used to abuse my ma. He tried to come back when Tsumu and I were in high school, but we ran him off.”

“Ran him off?” You asked.

“He got a lil too hands-on with ma, and Tsumu and I kicked his ass out the door and told him not to come back,” Osamu said. “And that was the last time we saw him.”

You hummed. “Good for you, then.”

“But yeah, ma raised us by herself, never remarried or anything. She worked two jobs just to support us and put us through volleyball,” Osamu said. “But she never missed a game.”

“She sounds great,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“She is,” Osamu said, smiling fondly. “I can’t wait for ya to meet her.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, smiling. “Tell me something else, I want to know everything.”

Osamu smiled at you before reaching across the table and grabbing your free hand.

“Tsumu and I have always been really competitive,” Osamu started. You smiled at him as he spoke.

“I really enjoyed the food,” you told Takahashi as he cleared off your table. “And thank you for the dessert, it was amazing.

“Anything for a friend!” Takahashi exclaimed, stacking the two empty plates in his hands. “And don’t worry about the bill, consider it on the house.”

“I owe you one,” Osamu said.

“I’ll take salted salmon onigiri and your miso soup any day of the week,” Takahashi said, smiling widely. “It was nice meeting you, and Miya-kun, it was nice seeing you again. Don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll try to come by more often,” Osamu said. You both stood after Takahashi disappeared into the kitchen. Osamu grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant.

“That was nice,” you said, swinging yours and Osamu’s arms.

“It was,” Osamu agreed. “What do ya want to do now?”

“I don’t know, do you have anything in mind?” You asked.

“There’s a club I like that’s not too far from here,” Osamu said.

“That sounds fun,” you said, smiling. “You’re buying the first round of drinks.”

“Deal,” Osamu said. He stopped abruptly, tugging you into his chest and leaning down. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips.

“You keep saying that like the world’ll end if you don’t,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Jus’ don’t want ya to forget,” Osamu mumbled. “Gotta remind ya.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you said. You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your lips. “I love you, too.”

You smiled as Osamu handed you a glass.

“One vodka cran for my princess,” he said, sliding into the booth next to you.

“Thank you,” you said. You took a sip of your drink and made a face. “A little light on the cran.”

“Lightweight,” Osamu teased. He tossed back his glass of whiskey and shivered. “Ugh.”

“Lightweight,” you mocked, elbowing his side. You downed your drink. “Dance with me?”

“Of course, anything my princess wants,” Osamu said. He pulled you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

Osamu’s hands rested on your hips as you ground against him. It wasn’t long before Osamu was turning you around, pulling you against his body as his hips moved to the beat. Your bodies moved together, grinding and bumping against each other as the two of you felt the rhythm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to face you.

“Ya look like a goddess,” Osamu breathed in your ear. “Every guy in this club has his eyes on ya.”

You let out a shaky moan as Osamu’s hips dragged against yours.

“Come on,” Osamu mumbled, pulling you through the dancing bodies.

Osamu led you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. He sat you on the edge of the sink, lips slotting against yours sloppily.

“Samu,” you said, running your hands up his shirt as he pushed your dress up around your waist. “Wanna feel you.”

“Later, princess,” he said, pushing his jeans down just enough to release his cock. “Gotta be in ya.”

He tugged your panties to the side and pressed the head of his cock flush against your entrance.

“I love ya,” he said, pecking your lips before pushing into you. You let out a high moan as he stretched you.

“Gen-gentle,” you stuttered. “Still sore from earlier.”

“Oh, princess, I got ya,” Osamu said, tip kissing your cervix. He held you tightly against him as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly as you rested your head against his chest.

“Love ya so much, jus’ wanna fill ya with my babies,” Osamu said. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him in deeper.

“Love you,” you moaned, kissing his neck. Osamu reached between you and rubbed your clit slowly, in time with his thrusts.

“Not gonna last,” he groaned. The fingers on your clit sped up. “Cream around my cock, princess.”

Your hands clenched in Osamu’s shirt as your stomach tightens. Your thighs trembled as you moaned in his ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu groaned. His cock twitched as your walls clamped around him. You came with a soft moan, burying your face in his neck as Osamu filled you with cum.

“Samu,” you whined as he pulled out. A mix of yours and his cum slowly leaked out of your stretched hole.

“Hold on,” Osamu said, kneeling in front of you. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and licked a bold stripe up your cum coated folds.

“Osamu!” You exclaimed, legs twitching as his tongue licked deep into your hole. You moaned as he ate you out like a man starved, slurping up cum and spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to lick deeper.

“Taste so good with my cum leakin’ outta ya,” Osamu moaned. He stood up and kissed you, pushing cum into your waiting mouth. You moaned and swallowed instinctively.

You hummed and kissed him again. “Mmm, thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Come on, I’m about ready to get ya outta that dress,” Osamu said, lifting you off the sink. Your legs shook as you stood up, and Osamu wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady.

“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling at him.

“Baby, no,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in your bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back down against his chest.

“We’re supposed to meet the boys in an hour,” you said, struggling to escape Osamu’s iron grip around you. “I need to shower and get my stuff together.”

“Can’t we just cancel?” Osamu asked, holding you tighter. “Just, I wanna spend the day with ya. We can do whatever ya want.”

“Baby, we still have three free days before my mom gets back,” you said. “Let’s just go play this game and then we can come back home and spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Osamu pouted but let you go.

“Thank you,” you said, crawling over him. You pecked his lips before you rolled out of bed. “Come shower with me?”

Osamu was up immediately, following you to your bathroom.

Your shower lasted longer than it should’ve, thanks to Osamu. As soon as the water hit your body, his lips were glued to your skin, his hands on your waist. Before you knew it, you were pressed against the cool, shower wall as he fucked you from behind.

“We’re gonna be late,” you complained as you got dressed.

“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ when ya were cummin’ ‘round my cock, princess,” Osamu said, kissing your head.

You swatted him away, glaring at him.

“You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, tossing a pair of black spandex shorts in your gym bag.

“I’ll show ya insatiable,” he said, hugging you from behind. His hand slipped down the front of your skirt, teasing the edge of your panties as he sucked on your neck.

“Samu, no,” you said, making no move to push him off. You bucked against his hand as his fingers circled your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Osamu mumbled, lips pressed against your skin. “Let me make ya cum one more time.”

You huffed. “Five minutes, then we’re leaving.”

“More than enough.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you walked onto the court.

“Bokkun!” You exclaimed, smiling widely as he spun you around.

“Y/n-chan!” Hinata exclaimed, hugging you as soon as Bokuto sat you down.

“My favourite niece!” Atsumu shouted, running across the court to greet you. Sakusa followed after him, offering you a casual nod as Atsumu hugged you.

“I might as well not even be here,” Osamu said, crossing his arms.

“Osamu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed, throwing himself at the man. Osamu immediately caught him, and tossed him back on his feet.

“Just a hello would’ve been fine,” Osamu said.

You giggled as he walked over to you, gluing himself to your side.

“Let us go change and we can get started,” you said.

“Locker rooms are that way,” Sakusa said, pointing towards the end of the gym. “Hope you don’t mind using the men’s, the women’s is locked up today.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging. You followed Osamu into the locker rooms and changed quickly.

“Hey,” Osamu called before you could walk out. You turned towards him. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips before following you out of the locker rooms.

“Okay, let’s play!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together.

Hinata whooped loudly as he jogged towards you.

“We’re gonna crush them!” He exclaimed. Bokuto high fived you both as Osamu joined Atsumu and Sakusa.

“Let’s warm up first,” you said, smiling.

You stretched out, rolling your shoulders before getting into position. You set a few balls for both boys before Sakusa called for the game to start.

The game lasted five sets, your team winning three of them. After Hinata scored the last point, Bokuto pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around.

“Aha! Suck it!” You shouted once Bokuto put you down. Atsumu flipped you off, smiling regardless.

“We let you win,” Osamu said, ducking under the net. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Oh, sure,” you said.

“No hugging the enemy!” Atsumu exclaimed. Sakusa slapped him on the back of the head before hugging you quickly.

“You’re good, probably better than Atsumu,” Sakusa said. You smiled widely.

“Thanks,” you said as Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist. Bokuto and Hinata both gave you a look.

“I have something to tell ya,” Osamu said. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “M/n and I are getting a divorce.”

“Finally,” Bokuto groaned. “I couldn’t take her hitting on me every time we saw each other.”

“So, you’re with her daughter now?” Sakusa asked. Your face heated up as Osamu nodded.

“And this isn’t just you trying to get back at her for trying to sleep with us?” Sakusa asked.

“No, I love Y/n,” Osamu said, glancing down at you with a smile.

“And I love you,” you said.

“As sweet as that is, isn’t it a little fast?” Sakusa asked.

“Probably,” you said. “But who cares? My mom’ll probably be remarried by the end of the year.”

“We know the relationship is a little taboo,” Osamu said, “but we just can’t help it.”

“Pay up,” Hinata said, grinning widely as he held his hand out to Bokuto.

“Fuck you,” Bokuto grumbled, handing a bill over to Hinata.

“What exactly did you two bet on?” You asked.

“When you two would get together,” Hinata said. “Bokuto-kun bet it would be the next time you visited.”

“Should’ve known Osamu-kun would move fast,” Bokuto said, hair drooping.

“Atsumu obviously already knew,” Sakusa said. Atsumu smiled widely.

“It’s a twin thing,” he said.

“Shut up, you literally caught us,” you said, shoving the blond twin.

“But it was my twin senses which led me to catching you,” Atsumu said. You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, lunch?” You asked.

“Baby, you promised,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in bed.

“Promised what?” You asked, stretching your arms out.

“We could spend one of our days in bed,” Osamu said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back down.

“One, I never promised that,” you said. “And two, I need to pee. Then I’ll come right back to bed.”

“Fine,” Osamu said, pouting. He released you from his hold. You hopped up and walked to the bathroom. You showered quickly and brushed your teeth before redressing in your pajamas (Osamu’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers).

“Ya take too long,” Osamu grumbled as you crawled back into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“I took ten minutes to shower and wash off, sue me,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Osamu rolled over, pulling you on top of him. “Why wash off when I’m about to make ya dirty again?”

You laughed. “That was so bad, Samu.”

Osamu pushed your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples with his fingers.

“Samu,” you moaned, running your hands over his broad chest. “Let me.”

Osamu pulled his hands away from your skin as you leaned down. Your plush lips wrapped around his left nipple, your tongue teasing the cool, metal barbell as you pinched his other nipple with your fingers.

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed, lowly. His back arched as your free hand drifted to his half hard dick. You palmed him through his boxers, heart racing as you felt him harden beneath your touch.

You pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting you to Osamu. You pinched his swollen, spit-covered nipple, drawing out a high pitched moan from him as you switched to the other.

“Baby,” Osamu breathed, tugging your hair as you suckled his nipple. You hummed in response. “Feels good.”

You smiled against his skin as you continued to palm him. You pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock. You pulled away, straddling him.

“Wanna watch you,” you said, running your hands over his soft stomach.

“Watch me what, baby?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips.

“Wanna watch you get off,” you said. “Please, Samu, I wanna watch you touch yourself.”

“Why would I do that when yer right here?” He asked, moving your hips so you ground against his cock.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I wanna know what you look like when you’re getting yourself off. Please, daddy, for me.”

Osamu sighed. “Fine, just for ya, princess.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said, leaning down and kissing him. You moved off of him, watching as he kicked his boxers off.

Osamu wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and let out a shaky breath. He pumped himself once, twice before letting his free hand drift to his puffy nipples.

“Y/n,” he moaned, softly as you leaned back, pushing your hand under the waistband of Osamu’s boxers you were wearing.

“I’m right here, baby,” you said, reaching out with your free hand to touch his shoulder. He relaxed at your touch and pumped his length slowly.

“Doesn’t feel like ya,” Osamu whined as he thumbed his slit. You pressed two fingers against your clit as he gathered precum on his thumb.

“Let me taste,” you said, grabbing his arm. He lifted his hand to your face, letting you suck his thumb into your mouth, licking the precum away.

“Just want ya to touch me,” Osamu said as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb.

“After you get yourself off,” you said, rubbing your clit in slow circles. Osamu whined as you let out a soft moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, rubbing your clit. “Let me see you.”

Osamu gripped his cock once again. Precum leaked down the side as he slowly pumped himself.

“Baby, take ‘em off,” he said, tugging at the boxers you were wearing. You pushed them down and spread your legs as Osamu watched you dip your fingers into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pinching his nipple and pumping his length faster. His thumb teased the metal barbell as he moaned.

“Samu,” you said, holding your wet fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent and sucked your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he gently squeezed his balls.

“Please, please, I want you to touch me,” he moaned as you pulled your fingers away. You pushed his hands away and straddled him. His cock slotted neatly in your wet folds as you ground against him. You moaned as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Osamu groaned, intertwining your fingers with his. “Just for me, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Just for you,” you moaned, rolling your hips furiously.

“Let me fuck ya,” he said. “Need to be in yer sweet cunt.”

You shook your head. “Sore from yesterday.”

Osamu’s head fell back with a groan. “And with any luck ya will be sore the rest of yer life.”

“Just- just cockwarming,” you said. Osamu nodded and carefully slid the tip into your wet heat.

“Son ofa bitch,” Osamu swore as your gummy walls clenched around him. He slowly bottomed out as you moaned in his ear.

“Oh,” you moaned as his fat cock stretched and molded your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your forehead against his. “Feels so good.”

“Takin’ my cock so well,” Osamu breathed. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back against the headboard, holding you closely. “Good girl.”

Your walls tightened at his praise. You sighed as you rested against Osamu’s chest.

“I want this forever,” you mumbled.

“My cock?”

“You, dummy,” you said, smiling as you looked up at him. “I want you forever.”

“Ya can’t say shit like that,” Osamu said, rolling his hips. “Makes me wanna flip ya over and put yer ankles over my shoulders.”

“Do it,” you challenged. Osamu groaned as he flipped you over.

“Yer askin’ for it, lil girl,” he said, pushing your knees up to your chest. You moaned as he pulled out, only to snap his hips against your ass.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he split you open over his cock.

“I love ya, baby,” he grunted, grabbing your ankles. You cried out as he spread your legs out. You fisted the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you.

“L-Love you,” you stuttered. His cock hit every spot in you, without trying. The cool metal that teased your walls only added to the stimulation.

“Want ya to squirt all over my cock, baby,” he said, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as he reached down to slap your clit. You squealed as he slapped it again before rubbing two fingers over it.

“S-Samu!” You cried as he pulled out. He grabbed your ankles with one hand and pushed them up, folding you in half.

“Such a cute, lil pussy,” he cooed, rubbing his fingers down your slit. Your walls fluttered around nothing. “She’s just cryin’ fer me.”

“Samu, please,” you cried. Osamu leaned down and spat directly in your hole before shoving three fingers in you.

“Clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like a whore,” he said. “Ya want my cock, baby?”

“Please, please!” You moaned loudly. “Samu, please, I want your cock in me!”

“Oh?” He asked, pressing the head of his cock against your clenching hole. He ran the head through your folds, pausing to tease your swollen clit and fluttering hole.

“Daddy!” You cried. “Daddy, I want it!”

Osamu pushed forward, shoving his cock in your tight core. You moaned as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix.

“Does my baby feel better with daddy’s cock in her?” Osamu cooed, dropping your legs on his shoulders.

You nodded. “Love daddy’s cock in me,” you moaned.

“I know, baby,” Osamu said. “Ya were made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, princess? Yer just a sweet, lil cocksleeve, meant to take daddy’s cock whenever he wants.”

“‘m jus’ daddy’s cocksleeve,” you moaned. “I was made to take daddy’s cock.”

“Good girl,” Osamu praised, slowly thrusting into you. “Yer gonna be my lil housewife, pregnant with my babies.”

You moaned, unable to speak as Osamu shoved three of his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered. You hollowed your cheeks, tears running down your cheeks as you gagged on his fingers. “Good girl.”

“Wanna be your good, little, housewife,” you moaned as he pulled his fingers away.

“Aw, baby, ya will be,” he said. He reached down to circle your clit. “Cream around my cock, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whined as your stomach tightened. Osamu thrusted into you harder. You cried out as your walls clamped around him, juices gushing.

“There’s my girl,” Osamu said, continuing to thrust into you. You whimpered as his cock twitched inside you.

“Cum in me, daddy, please,” you begged. “Breed me, breed me, I want you to fill me up!”

“Gonna give ya my babies,” he grunted. Osamu moaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him, finally milking an orgasm from him. His balls tightened as he filled you up. Cum dripped down your skin as he fucked you through his orgasm.

“Too much, too much,” you whined as Osamu rubbed your clit.

“Just one more,” he said. You whined as he pulled out. Quickly, before his cum could leak out, he pushed his fingers in you.

“Samu!” You whimpered as his thumb rubbed over your overly sensitive clit.

“Come on,” he grunted, rubbing your clit faster. You moaned loudly.

“Samu, Samu, Samu!” You moaned. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly as he fingered you.

“Cum in my mouth, princess,” he murmured. Your thighs shook as his tongue pressed against your clit.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as you squirted into his open mouth. A mixture of your juices and his cum dripped onto the sheets and down Osamu’s chin.

“That’s my good girl,” Osamu said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“You’re too much,” you huffed, relaxing into the bed. Osamu smiled at you as he laid next to you.

“Breakfast in bed?” He asked. You shook your head.

“We have to clean these sheets,” you said, glancing down at the wet spot below you.

“But then we can get back in bed, right?” Osamu asked.

You smiled and nodded. “After we eat and wash the sheets, sure. And you need a shower, you smell like sex.”

“Join me?” He asked.

“No funny business, Miya Osamu.”

“Omurice and onion soup for one princess,” Osamu said, setting a plate in front of you. You smiled at the cute, panda-shaped omurice.

“Thank you,” you said. Osamu sat next to you with his own plate.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could go visit the Izanagi shrine,” Osamu said, slurping his soup.

“I’ve never been to the Izanagi shrine,” you said.

“It’s dedicated to Izanagi and Izanami,” Osamu said. You nodded.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Izanami is the goddess of creation and death isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Izanagi was her husband. The moon and sun were born from his eyes.”

“That sounds interesting,” you said. “I’ll go.”

You ate in silence, apart from music playing from the tv in the living room.

“Back to bed?” Osamu asked after washing the dishes. You smiled and nodded.

“Back to bed,” you confirmed. Osamu lifted you easily and pecked your lips as he carried you back to bed. The freshly made bed was quickly ruined as Osamu laid you on your back, gently.

He kissed you softly before kissing down your neck. He made quick work of removing your tank top and sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he switched then continued to kiss down your stomach.

“Samu,” you said softly, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Jus’ let me take care of ya,” he breathed, running his fingers down your thighs, pulling your underwear down. You sighed as Osamu kissed up your inner thigh, stopping at your pubic area.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Osamu said, running his finger through your folds. “Gonna make ya cum on my tongue, princess.”

“Samu,” you moaned as he licked broadly up your slit. He moved your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his lips around your clit. He alternated between teasing it with his tongue and sucking at it softly.

“One or two?” Osamu asked.

“Two,” you said.

Osamu slowly pushed two fingers in your opening. Your mouth fell open with a low moan as he scissored you open and tongued at your clit.

“Osamu,” you moaned, tugging his hair. Osamu groaned, vibrating against your clit. “Oh?”

You gave another experimental tug, receiving the same response.

“Ya keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna fuck ya without finishing down here,” Osamu said, pulling away from you. You stared him in the eyes and pulled his hair again.

He moaned then glared up at you. “I wanted to treat ya real nice before I fucked ya again.”

“And I just want you in me,” you said. Osamu crawled up your body, hovering over you as he kissed you deeply.

“What my princess wants, she gets,” Osamu said. He kicked off his boxers and flipped you over so that you were on top.

“Want you in my mouth,” you mumbled, staring down at his hard cock. Your mouth was watering as his cock rested against his lower stomach, head swollen and dark pink, leaking precum.

“What was that, baby?” Osamu asked.

“Wanna suck you off,” you said, looking up at him. You scrambled down the mattress before he could say anything, spreading his legs slightly.

“G’head, baby,” he said, putting his hands behind his head as you placed a kitten lick to the leaking tip. You moaned at the salty taste.

You ran your tongue down his length, stopping to tease his balls. Osamu hissed as you sucked one in your mouth, gently running your tongue around it.

“Fuck, baby,” Osamu said, reaching down to grab your hair. You pulled back and pumped his cock once, twice, three times before taking the tip in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you pumped the rest of his length.

“I know ya can take more than that,” Osamu said. You ignored him as your hand came up to play with his balls.

“Leave me alone,” you said, pulling back. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You took the tip back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly, you took more of his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Tears burned at your eyes as you gagged. Osamu groaned and bucked his hips.

“Good girl,” Osamu groaned, pulling your hair gently. You moaned around him, bobbing your head and wrapping your hand around whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand squeezed his balls lightly.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Osamu grunted as his balls tightened in your hand. You pulled back.

“Cum in my mouth,” you said. You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked. Your tongue swirled around, moaning at the taste of his precum.

“Fuck, fuck,” Osamu swore, pushing your head down his length as he came down your throat. You swallowed most of it before crawling up the bed and meeting Osamu with a messy kiss. Spit and cum ran down your chins as your tongues danced together.

“I love you,” you mumbled, as Osamu wiped your chin clean with a discarded shirt before wiping his own.

“I love you, too, baby.”

[hangovercurse]

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.