#grumpy dad got NO FATHER'S DAY ASKS

[goatgoesmbe]

Singlefather!Konig who's socially anxious, with a very extroverted little daughter.

He would try to not make eye contact with anyone, looking brooding to intimidate anyone from talking to him. Only for the little girl to greet literally everyone she saw, making social interaction inevitable for him too.

Met you at a park. Thought you're really cute, but he was too anxious to do anything.

Like father like daughter. His little girl also found you pretty. The difference is that, she wasn't afraid to tell you about it directly.

He could only watch his daughter making a beeline towards you, leaving the playground.

And now, Konig is waiting for you two to stop talking. It's almost the little girl's nap time, and they need to go home or he knew she would be tired and grumpy the rest of the day. But he didn't feel like joining in the conversation, just thinking about talking to you made his palm sweaty, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

You, who doesn't know he's the dad. Is wary about the 2-meter-tall guy in a black hoodie and face mask, who kept looking at the little girl who was talking to you.

So you stayed with the little girl, afraid she would get kidnapped by him or something.

This went on for too long than Konig liked, he was just eager to get out of the public already.

You, who's now very concerned with him glaring like that, then asked the little girl about her parent's whereabout.

To your surprise, the girl pointed at the intimidating guy that you thought was a threat.

You were still a bit intimidated when he made his way to you, but then relaxed when you saw the girl tackled his leg.

You two got talking (more like, both of you listened while his daughter talk). And since you're not as scared as before now, you couldn't help but be intrigued with him.

He's cute in a way, which is odd to say to someone with that stature. But the way his eyes softened when he was looking at his daughter? how he looked like he tried to make himself smaller, and is that a blush peeking out of his mask whenever he glanced at you?

Konig didn't know when his daughter stopped talking, asleep in his arms, and now you're talking with him instead.

He found himself not in a rush to get home anymore.

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Not Like Him

Prompt: Because of your past, you hate confrontation. One day, Niall comes home particularly grumpy.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: anxiety, past verbal abuse mention

A/N: hi all!!! continuing to try and post on here. please feel free to send any niall x reader prompts / ideas my way :)

You’re in the midst of putting a dish you just washed away when you hear the front door open, then suddenly slam shut. The pictures hanging on the wall rattle as you peer around the corner anxiously. The first thing you see is Niall bustling through the door. Normally, having Niall home would cause a surge of warmth and excitement to rush through you– but today, instantly, you recognize that something about his demeanor is off. 

He throws his flannel on the chair and with his back facing you, runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to you, there’s no warm smile or cheerful greeting. Instead, he takes a few steps then tosses his keys on the counter, letting them slide carelessly across the surface. He makes no effort to even acknowledge your existence. 

Instantly, a lump forms in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. You hate tension… Or any sort of confrontation, really. Your parent’s entire marriage was built off tension and confrontation– passive aggressive comments and slamming doors leading to screaming, which then led to shattered dishes or dented walls. 

Your father had a temper. And it didn't matter how well behaved or helpful or unseen you were. Something always managed to spark his anger. The nights he drank were worse, and as the years went on, the sober version of himself made less and less of an appearance. 

Although you didn't recognize it at the time, looking back, you knew that you spent the vast majority of your childhood living on edge– always waiting for the yelling or the screaming. You were afraid more often than not. And that wasn't something you could just unlearn when you were old enough to leave– no matter how far away you were.  

In fact, it took years of hard work to heal from the trauma you'd experienced. But for so long, it felt like no matter how much therapy you attended or self-help books you read, there was always a part of you that was just stuck. 

Until you met Niall. 

Niall was the missing piece. His presence alone was healing. He was calm and safe and consistent. He was patient and gentle and kind. And when you finally got up enough courage to tell him about your childhood, he listened carefully, his brows furrowed somberly. It was like your trauma caused him physical pain– that's how much he loved you– how much he felt with you. 

With Niall, you could safely work on communicating without screaming matches or slamming doors. It had taken time, but slowly, piece by piece, you started to rebuild, until you actually felt like you could trust someone again. 

And of course, even now, in the midst of whatever this unknown territory was, you trust him. But despite that, tension is radiating off from him. It’s almost palpable in the air– suffocating you. 

You have to say something– Niall will understand. 

“How was your day?” You ask nervously, already knowing the answer. 

Niall walks right past you to the fridge, pulling the door open and ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety settling like a rock in your stomach. This feeling felt too familiar… 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. He pulls out a beer, showing no sign that he even heard you. He cracks it open, the sound alone sending shivers down your spine as you’re instantly reminded of all the nights your father would drink five beers before even recognizing you were home. But Niall is not your dad, you remind yourself. Niall is gentle. Niall is kind. 

He takes a long swig before walking towards the stairs.

“Niall?” you say, worry evident in your tone. 

He doesn’t stop. 

Niall isn't like him. Niall cares about your feelings. Niall loves you.

You follow him a few steps, knowing that you can’t let him just go to bed this… angry? Upset? Whatever he is– 

“Niall, what’s going on–”

“Oh my God!” He bellows suddenly, waving his arms and spinning in his tracks to finally look at you. “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second?!”

Before you can quiet down your brain or repeat all the ways Niall was different from your father, your body reacts as if they are one and the same. You flinch harshly from his sudden movements and loud tone, like your body remembered exactly how it felt to live in your house twenty years ago. And before you can help it, the glass cup in your hand falls to the floor, shattering around your feet. 

The noise makes you snap out of your trance. Looking down at the mess you made, your mouth goes dry. Your whole body has already begun shaking and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes. 

“I’m sorry–” you whisper, choking back a sob. Then you brace for the screaming– the berating. Clumsy, stupid, idiot. 

Nervously, you kneel down, tucking your hair behind your ear while you try to pick up the broken glass. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s obvious Niall had a bad day. So why couldn’t you just leave him alone? The last thing he needs is you making and being a mess. 

“Sorry–“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt he hears. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces of shattered glass in your hand. Your vision quickly becomes blurry with tears as they streak down your cheeks. 

“Shit,” you vaguely hear, but you don’t stop trying to clean up. You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before he can get more upset about it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Through your clouded vision, you can’t see what you’re collecting off the floor– all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Baby, stop–”  

The voice is distant.

“I promise I’ll clean it up,” you say, hands shaking so violently, you wonder how no pieces have sliced open your skin yet. 

“Baby–” 

It’s just background noise. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” 

You vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can wave him away, Niall reaches out– hand cupping yours before forcing open your fingers. As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you see him reach up to toss it on the counter before kneeling back down to be on your level. 

All it takes is one arm wrapping around your shoulders for you to break. Suddenly, you can’t hold back the sob that’s been sitting in your throat. The second it escapes from your lips, Niall pulls you into his chest tightly. 

“C’mere,” he exhales, chin resting on your head while he slides the both of you back against the cupboard. You let out a choked gasp and cling to him. 

His arm winds tightly around you, locking you in place. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up–” you cry.  

“Shh,” he soothes. He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy as you shake against him. Niall grabs your bicep with his hand, holding you steady while his thumb rubs up and down your bare skin gently, trying to calm you down. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to feel like you can think again. Time stands still as you settle into his embrace. Niall’s embrace– you remind yourself. Not your father’s. Because your father wouldn’t embrace you after yelling like that. And he certainly wouldn’t embrace you after you broke a dish. 

After a while, your breathing gradually returns to normal again. Moments later, you feel him shift. “Did you cut yourself?” he asks carefully. 

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor before scanning the length of you. 

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you did. 

Niall nods before reaching his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get away from the glass.”

You take it willingly, sighing as you feel the warmth from his palm spread through your hand. He guides you away from the pile of glass and towards the kitchen island. He helps you settle into one of the tall stools. 

“Hey,” you hear him whisper. But you’re still staring at the mess, so worried about cleaning it up. Until you feel firm, but careful hands cupping each side of your face– forcing your attention to shift towards him. “Hey,” he repeats. 

His calloused thumb trails along your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re leaning into his touch, craving his comfort. 

“Did you cut yourself?” he asks again, clearly not trusting your earlier response. 

To be fair– you’re not even sure that you trust your earlier response. By now, you feel like you’re actually back in your own body, and feel no pain. So you shake your head, this time more convincingly.  

As soon as you give the confirmation that you’re alright, Niall takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulders, crashing his body against yours.  

“I’m so sorry,” he says, lips ghosting against the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of him. Niall is not your dad, you repeat. Niall apologizes. Niall loves you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm. “I’m sorry I was so annoying– I’m sorry I broke the glass.”

You feel Niall shake his head above you. “No–” he says firmly. “I don’t give a shit about the glass. I had a shitty day,” he sighs. “A really shitty day. But that’s not your fault.”

“I should have just given you space.”

He shakes his head again, pulling back from his embrace to look at you earnestly. “No– We’re supposed to talk about things. I promised you I’d always talk to you about things, and I broke that today.”

He brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face, before wiping some stray tears stuck under your eyes. “I know how much yelling activates you– I know it sets you off, and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re allowed to get annoyed,” you remind him. “And angry. You’re allowed to yell.” 

“That’s not how you and I communicate,” he says. “That’s not ever how I want to communicate, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time”

Squeezing him tighter, you nod against his chest. 

Because Niall is not your father and you believe him.

[luveline]

Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 

“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 

Jack watches you. 

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 

“Want a hug?” you whisper. 

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?” 

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 

“Mom says everything is hard now.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Sorry, Jack.” 

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. 

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 

You stare. 

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

[pedgito]

ORBIT YOU ⋆⭒˚.⋆ CHAPTER FIVE: NEPTUNE

↝ series masterlist | joel miller masterlist | full masterlist

summary — your situation with joel progresses, bleeding into his work and a tense conversation leads to heated heart to heart.

author's note —hi, this one is a little shorter than the others! i'm sorry but i promise the last chapter will hopefully make up for it.

content warning — 18+ MDNI, dbf!joel, age gap (20s/40s), sex on the job site heyo, unprotected piv, praise kink through the goddamn roof, angst (not between joel and reader), a sprinkle of plot, playful reader and grumpy joel, finger sucking, mentions of public sex

word count — 4k

Joel doesn’t have any choice but to call you.

Unless, however, he felt like suffering the entire day on an empty stomach.

There’s some guilt that creeps in as he fishes into his pocket for his phone and sends you a quick text, almost immediately regretting it.

Joel

Tommy got a flat grabbing lunch.

It’s your day off so you can say no—

Joel doesn’t even finish the second half of his message before your notification dings at the top of his screen.

You

Send me what you want.

I’m wrapping up here with dad so I can swing by.

You were a goddamn lifesaver. Heaven sent.

Joel sends over a place close to his location for the day—it wasn’t too harsh of a distance, fifteen minutes there and fifteen back, you could manage that.

Joel also knows you had put forth an effort to smooth things over with your father, even if it seemed pointless.

So, on your shared days off you spend it at home, attempting to help your father with odd jobs around the house or even spend a quiet afternoon just…lingering, observing.

He doesn’t ask about school or how living at Joel’s for the summer had been, but he does ask how you’re doing, how you’re settling into the job you had managed to snag in the city—an easy job for a lovely old couple who sold homemade jewelry and trinkets.

You managed the storefront like a well-oiled machine while they worked the backend.

It was commendable how much they cared and while the pay wasn’t great, it was manageable. You only needed enough to hold you over, spending your free time searching out possible internships to fulfill the void that had been lingering for a while.

“I’m gonna grab lunch,” you tell your father casually, swiping your phone and keys off the counter, “do you want me to grab anything for you?”

“I’m alright, hon’,” he waves you off, “thanks for askin’,”

You nod and force a tight smile as you slip out the door, making a quick call to the location Joel had sent you, ordering his food to ensure it would be ready upon arrival.

–

You get another message as you approach a red light a turn away from the establishment.

Joel

Tommy’s fine btw. Called a towing company.

Told the fucker to change those tires three months ago.

Joel notices the read receipt and smiles, figuring that you’re still driving.

The light turns green and you accelerate toward the small diner.

A fluttering sensation dances in your stomach, grows and swells; it’s strange how a simple lunch run has become something to look forward to amidst the chaos of summer days and work.

When you were at college, schooling was your focus.

But here, back home, Joel has become a central point in your life.

If he didn’t exist around you, you existed around him.

However, with him back at work, things were trickier.

Having sent that order ahead of time, it was already waiting by the time you arrived.

Joel was working on-site today, a residential in a higher brow area that had you gawking as you rolled up the street, stopping at the house that had the Miller name plastered all over the vehicles.

He had already been anticipating your arrival, approaching your car as pull into the driveway, shoving his phone into his pocket as he opened your driver’s side door.

“I owe you one, sweetheart,” he tells you, trading the food for a gentle squeeze at your waist as you follow him inside, still assessing the houses in the neighborhood as Joel turns to look at you, noticing your awestruck gaze.

“It’s…a lot,” Joel excuses, guiding you inside with a hand hovering over your head to avoid the draping plastic as you ducked, noticing the strangely empty house despite the cars outside, “never understood why people need so much room, but,” he shrugs, placing the food onto the semi-finished kitchen counter, “we’re just doin’ the job,”

“Where is everybody?” you ask, admiring the finished bits of the house as you glance down an empty hall, the faint crinkle of styrofoam to your left as you watch Joel’s hand dive into the bag.

“Grabbin’ lunch,” Joel explains, “I think they all took a car together, somebody has to stay on site, though, so—”

“Oh, poor thing,” you frown, approaching with a little less nervousness as you knew you were alone and Joel reaches over your head as you move into his chest, bringing the fries back over your head to stuff into his mouth, “is it good?”

Joel smirks around a mouthful and raises a brow, offering his salt covered thumb and pointer finger which you take eagerly, your tongue flattening out against your chin as you suck them into your mouth.

“You did good,” Joel says softly, “thank you,”

You shrug with an air of nonchalance but Joel knows that look, a quick glance away as you smile before looking back at him, suddenly more shy than you’ve ever been.

“How are you going to survive without me when I go back to school?”

“Like I always have,” Joel answers truthfully, “but I can’t lie—havin’ you around, helpin’ me, bein’ so….good for me,” he nods with a fond smile, curling his clean hand around the side of your face as he leans in for a quick kiss, just a simple peck of his lips, “I’ll miss it,”

“You look out for everyone,” you tell him, “I think you deserve some of that back every once in a while,”

Joel’s gaze lingers on your lips and time seems to stretch, his gaze darkens momentarily, a flicker of desire sparking in the depths of his eyes. “That right? And you’re just the one to give it to me, aren’t you?”

“For now,” you tease before pushing away from his hold and turning, ducking your head as your fingers sprawl out against the counter and tap, looking around at the unfinished house, still covered with plastic and tools scattered around.

Joel peers at his watch out of your periphery before he wipes at his mouth with a napkin and pokes his tongue at the inside of his cheek, “Perfect,” he mumbles.

And then his fingers are tight around your arm and pulling you doing the hallway close by, clumsily attempting to keep up, “What’re you doing—”

He takes a quick turn, bringing you into a finished bathroom that definitely cost more than your collective dorm room, staring around dumbly before you hear the lock click and Joel’s splitting your legs open with his hands, fingers digging into your skin with need.

“Oh,” you note, your eyes dragging to his belt, his hands working quickly to pull the leather apart and unzip his jeans, “well—you’re two for two,”

Joel makes a face of confusion before he realizes what you’re implying, the moment in his truck at the observatory that seemed like a distant memory now.

Without hesitation, his hands slip under the fabric of your dress to wrap around your panties, pulling them down as you assist in raising your ass off the counter before he’s tucking the fabric away in his back pocket.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he steps closer, his hands smoothing around your neck, tilting your head up to meet his heated gaze.

You barely recognize this version of him, selfish and unwilling to sacrifice.

He wanted you, he was going to have you.

“I’ve got about fifteen minutes before the boys come back,” Joel explains, “I’m gonna fuck you, how’s that sound?”

You weren’t one to complain, helpless but willingly cornered. You nod.

But, your eyes beg curiosity. 

His eyes bore into yours too, only dark and hungry. “I can’t help myself,” he admits, his finger toying at the thin strap of your dress as it falls down your shoulder, “You’ve got me doin’ shit I shouldn’t,”

Before you can respond, he’s pressing you firmly against the cool tile of the wall, his hands shifting to grip your waist, fingers digging in deep. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals the air right from your lungs. You melt against him, responding eagerly as his tongue finds its way past your parted lips.

With a firm tug, he pulls you higher up against him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he groans into the kiss, hands wrapping around his cock as he jerks himself against your increasingly slick folds, the head of his cock sliding against your clit with every thrust of his hips.

“I don’t think you gave a shit about lunch,” you giggle softly, the scratch of his beard against your skin as he moves toward your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him access, “did you?”

“I did,” he reassures you, though you feel he isn’t finished explain, after a few lingering moments of silence, he continues, “just had a shit morning, figuring I could make the most of you comin’ to see me,”

With a subtle shift of your hips and his hand tight on your thigh, he pushes into you without warning but slowly, flipping the fabric of your dress up to give you a front row seat to watch his cock disappear inside of you, your cunt stretching around him.

“Do you—do you wanna talk about it?” You ask with a pause of breath, your fingers curling around the edge of the counter as he buries himself inside of you, his hand fisted into your dress, “I’m a good listener,”

“No,” he answers simply, distracted.

You hear the thud of his palm as it flattens against the tile beside your head, the other hand squeezing tight at your waist as he begins to thrust into you, slow at first but quickly building in intensity and speed.

He was eager, urgent.

Each movement sends you back against the wall, but you could care less for the bruises that would come later, your cunt clenching around him, drawing him deeper as he groans in satisfaction.

“Right here, look at me,” he commands, his breath hot against your mouth as he pulls back just enough to look at you, “shoulda took my time—”

“It’s—It’s fine,” you nod, mouth opening in a soft moan as his thumbs flicks over your clit, brows creasing at the sensation, “It’s okay,”

“Goddamn it,” he grunts through clenched teeth, his eyes drifting shut as his thrusts grow more urgent but with less rhythm, “You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you call out to him gently, one hand gripping the counter loosening to rest against his cheek, feeling the heat of it under your fingertips, “take it—I know you need it,”

He needs you—this moment where everything else disappeared, finding a strange comfort in your presence despite knowing how complicated all of this has become.

Joel’s eyes open slowly and lock onto yours, filled with a mix of lust, greed, and something else you can’t quite recognize. His grip on your waist tightens as he thrusts into you harder, angling his hips to hit that spot deep inside you that feels otherworldly.

You bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes in the form of a whimper nonetheless.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart” Joel breaths into your ear, pumping his hips one last time before he comes with a long, drawn-out groan as his thumb continues to move against you, bringing you over the edge quicker than you’re expecting, your hands slapping down against the counter as your hips rock against his hand until you both go still, panting into the quiet air.

“I can’t get enough of you.” 

His words are both an admission and a desperate plea.

But, also a heavy burden.

Your life wouldn’t exist the way it has without Joel.

–

He sends you back home pantyless, of course.

He fixed your dress, hair, and kissed the crown of your head before you left.

To his men that were walking up, it seemed nothing out of the ordinary.

A close friend, something like family. You were doing a favor.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says casually, offering a wink as he waves a polite goodbye, even though you know you would get a text from him the moment you reached the car.

And, sure enough.

Joel

Thanks for the dessert.

You find yourself typing out replies and erasing them, unsure what he meant initially.

Joel

I’m talking about you, sweetheart.

A second later.

Jesus.

You smile to yourself, shaking your head in amusement as you close your phone.

The drive back to Joel’s house is quiet, the afternoon creeping into the evening as you round the cul-de-sac leisurely, skeptical of the car that starts to pull away the same time you pull into Joel’s driveway, dark tinted windows giving nothing away.

But, the curtains in your father’s living room sway.

You felt your gut sink, turning off the ignition with a twist as you exited the car.

Your father exited the house simultaneously, throwing away a black bag of trash as you pretended to ignore him entirely, turning your key into the lock as you felt the full blast of Joel’s air conditioned home, thankful for a brief moment of the reprieve of Austin’s summer heat.

He had refused your offer for food, you had been cleaning up his house all morning and spending enough time with him that you knew there wouldn’t be any reason for him to throw his trash out. You had helped him sort through a box of things he wasn’t sure how to part with, listening to him ramble over football statistics that made no sense to you.

So, you wait.

It takes a couple hours, moving about restlessly until you can’t take it anymore.

It felt stupid—pointless, even.

But, you were curious. 

You dig, lucky that the back was still sitting on top, ripping the plastic open to spot the very obvious pair of fast foods bags that were more than enough to feed your father and a guest, hearing the roar of Joel’s truck as you look over your shoulder.

At the same time, your father’s door opens.

Fuck.

You quickly rush to the broken back gate of your father’s yard, hiding in the shadows as Joel’s truck quiets and your father approaches, item in hand.

“Goddamn, I haven’t seen that since my girls were in diapers,” Joel says,

“I never got around to learning or giving it to mine, so I thought I’d give it back,” your father decided, “it’s just been collectin’ dust, figured you’d want it back,”

Joel nods knowingly, taking the guitar in hand, but your father doesn’t let go immediately.

“She ain’t….” his words linger, “She ain’t mad at me, is she?”

“I dunno if this is really my place,” Joel counters, “That girl is—”

“She’s my daughter,” he interjects, “but you’re housin’ her,”

“I’m not doin’ that with some kind of intention, if that’s what you’re implying,”

You find your chest tightening and Joel spots you out of the corner of his eye, slipping down further in the shadows. He swallows and your dad chuckles suddenly, shaking his head.

“I’m just sayin’—I know she’ll talk to you, more than she will with me,” he didn’t have a clue—why would he?

“She’s always been hard to figure out,” Joel lies, “whatever you two are dealin’ with, I’m sure it’ll pass with time—she loves you,”

Even if it never felt fully returned.

You father’s grip on the guitar loosens as Joel allows it to hang near his waist.

“I know,” your father nods.

“Does she have any reason to be upset with you?” Joel asks suddenly, subtly prying.

Your father pauses for an extended amount of time, “Probably,” he decides weakly.

The conversation falls flat and they both offer tense goodbyes and Joel whistles softly when the coast is clear, letting out a slow breath you had been holding as you approach him quietly. 

“Do I wanna know?” he asks.

“No,” you answer without hesitation, though your eyes are reading differently.

You just look…sad.

Joel sniffs then, “You smell like trash, darlin’,”

“Thanks,” you remark like a smartass and that earns a look of annoyance from Joel.

“Well, you were diggin’ around,” Joel reminds you, “take a shower,”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Telling,” he remarks but then adds, “and askin’—lord,”

You grin slightly, running your hand up his chest until it reaches few inches from his face before he snatches your wrist, “Knock it off,”

“You’re grumpy,” you decide, retching your hand away before you move past him, face set and hardened.

Joel sighs, long and slow, trading a glance between the two houses.

He’d found himself in the situation far too often—first, handling your mother’s deceit and comforting you when you seeked him out. But now, it is different.

Devastating.

He wasn’t keeping secrets solely your own, because he was fully complicit in every act he’s taken with you, some part of his selfishness that was laying dormant climbing out from the depths.

Joel didn’t see a way out and he wasn’t sure if he wanted one either.

–

Your hair was still damp, but you could hear the faint strumming of a guitar on the back porch, peering through kitchen blinds to find Joel rocking in a chair as he played mindlessly at the guitar as he attempted to tune it to his liking, still sounding slightly off despite his efforts.

He was freshly showered too, the dark skies lending to cooler night, his eyes only surfacing briefly to look at you as you slipped through the sliding door and approached with caution.

You sit down quietly in front of him, legs crossed.

He strums a song, something that sounds vaguely familiar and you watch closely, admiring his skill with a soft smile, but eventually the music falls dead.

He pats softly at the fretboard before setting it aside, clasping his hands between his knees as his elbows rest against his thighs.

“What did you find?” he asks and the guilt on your face is immediate. 

“I just have this feeling,” you explain, stammering over your words as you try to explain.

“I’m not judgin’ you, baby,” he reassures you and he sees your face soften instantly, looking over at him shyly before your eyes track to the floor.

“I offered to bring him lunch, I helped him clean out the house all morning,” you tell him, “and I drive up, a car was leaving, and I saw him throwing out some trash,”

“And you got curious?” Joel clarifies.

“Someone brought food over,” you tell him.

“You sure he isn’t just tryin’ to move on?” Joel asks.

“Joel,” you stress, finding the words to explain would be pointless.

“C’mere,” he motions with his finger and you move forward gently, fixing yourself between his legs as his hand smooths over your hair, move under your chin to cup it gently and angle it up to look at him, “they’re adults—but they’re also your parents. I’m sure whatever is going on, if something is going on, there’s good reason for it,”

“Don’t tell me you believe that,” you counter, gaze growing cold and distant, eyes boring into his own,

“I need you to believe that,” Joel admits, “ain’t no sense in worrying about something that is out of your control—you’ve got shit figured out, you’ve done good making up for their shortcomings, don’t get wrapped up in their bullshit,”

This feels oddly familiar, Joel thinks.

He clears his throat, looking up briefly at the peek of the city from his backyard, squeezing gently at your chin before he leans back and spreads his legs, beckoning you closer.

It feels so easy now—like it was routine.

You climb into his lap, big hands settling over your ass as your knees rest on either side of his hips, watching as he examines you with open eyes, unable to stare at him directly as your hands twisted into the fabric at his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ smart,” Joel reminds you, “I know I don’t need to tell you any of this, but I think you like hearin’ it, makes you feel less alone in that head of yours,”

You sigh, resting your forehead against his.

“What happens when I go back to school?” 

Joel shakes his head, “Whatever you want,”

“I don’t want to lose this,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper as you pull away just enough to meet his gaze before your bravery flickers away.

Joel’s fingers brush along your jawline suddenly, face cupped in his hands as he forced your gaze.

 “You won’t. We just gotta figure out how to make this work,” he tells you, eyes searching your face with a tender gaze.

A hand slides down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. 

“Don’t think you can get rid of me?” you tease lightly, your eyes darting down to his lips.

“Who said I want to?” he challenges, and the sincerity in his tone rings true.

You kiss Joel soundly, a quick move that catches him by surprise.

For a moment he’s unmoving, but his brain quickly catches up, matching your urgency with his mouth as you tug him impossibly closer, moaning into his mouth as he pulls away, “You want honesty?” he asks suddenly.

You don’t hesitate when you nod.

“I think we both know we shouldn’t be doing this,” Joel knows you know, “but—I’m beyond feelin’ regret, I’m just makin’ sure you know this isn’t your only option,”

“Are you saying your okay with being a side piece?” you ask with a slight laugh.

“Good lord,” he says like a curse, rolling his eyes with amusement, “I’m trying to say that you’re allowed to change your mind—I’ve resigned myself a place in hell long before you, I should’ve put a stop to this, but we were both hurting, can’t help that we found some comfort in each other,”

“Give yourself some credit,” you chastise him, pushing at his chest playfully, “you’ve never made me feel anything but safe, that hasn’t changed, even if we’re…”

“Speakin’ of,” Joel remarks, a fond smile on his face, “I think I’m still a little hungry,”

“Oh?” your interest was piqued, leaning into the touch of his hand at the base of your spine.

“Yeah,” he nods, “been thinkin’ ‘bout you all day,”

“Tell me more,” your urge with a lust-filled tone, kissing at the corner of his mouth.

“Damn near nailed my hand to a wall picturin’ you on my cock,” Joel admits and you gasp in surprise, mixed with some serious concern, “hey—I didn’t, I didn’t,”

“You’ve gotta be more careful,” you urge him,

“Yeah," he nods knowingly, “but you take my cock so well, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it,”

He can sense the way the praise makes you preen, letting out a soft sigh against his ear before you kiss his cheek, so he continues.

His finger rubs along your upper lip as you pull back to look at him for a brief moment.

“Or how pretty these look stretched around it,” 

His fingers press inside your mouth and you suck dutifully. 

He lets out a shallow breath as the heat envelops his finger.

Your eyes flutter shut as his other hand grips your ass, moving your hips forward and over his hardened length, resting heavy against the thin material of his sleep pants.

“Oh, I know, baby,” he soothes, “I’d fuck you right here if I had half the mind,”

And god did you want him too.

“Go on,” he urges, “upstairs,”

You weren’t sure why the universe had aligned things like this.

But, you were thankful—and truthfully, so was Joel.

-

previous chapter | next chapter

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divider creds: @/saradika-graphics

[corroded-hellfire]

First Mother’s Day after the twins. Eddie is so sleep deprived that he forgot. Ryan is on his senior class trip. Eliza is still too little to remember. It’s only when Luke “Scurvy” Munson comes home with flowers that the day is saved.

Eddie wouldn’t change Luke’s middle name, but I invented Luke and I petition to change his middle name officially to “Scurvy.”

I hope all of you moms out there had a wonderful Mother’s Day 💕

Words: 3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie collapses into the blue recliner tucked into the corner of the living room. A sigh rushes out of him as he lets his tense body relax against the polyester. The baby monitor is still clutched in his hand, too paranoid that if he lets it go, one of the twins will start crying again. He just got them both to fall asleep. It took songs, cuddles, and rocking back and forth, but it finally all paid off. 

“Thank God,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. 

For the first time today, the house is quiet. The twins are asleep. Eliza is curled up on your bed with a handful of her stuffed animals, watching Mulan. Luke is out with his friends, and you’re out picking Ryan up. Your eldest son has been on a trip with school for the last couple of days, and the buses are rolling back in to drop the students off at the high school tonight. 

Eddie’s eyes strain to stay open. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep for the entire six weeks since the twins were born. Neither had you, so it amazed Eddie that you were so willing to go and pick up Ryan. The amazement wore off when he realized he was left to do two bedtimes alone. 

I could just nap right now, he thinks. Only for a little while until you come home. The moment he lets his eyes flutter closed though, the front door opens. 

“Oh my God,” Luke says as he steps inside the house. “It’s actually quiet in here. Am I in the right house?”

Eddie forces his eyes open, more out of curiosity for what that crinkling plastic noise is than to see his son. His brows furrow when he sees Luke holding a bouquet of flowers.

“What’re those?” Eddie asks, pointing the antenna of the baby monitor at the blooms. “Were you on a date? I thought you were out with friends.”

“Father,” Luke says with a sigh, “if I were on a date, why would I be coming home with flowers?”

“Ugh, I’m too tired, don’t quiz me.” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his drooping eyes. 

“They’re for Mother’s Day.” Luke gently bops his dad on the top of the head with the wrapped bouquet. “Sean stopped to pick some flowers up for his mom, so I figured I’d grab some too.”

“That’s nice,” Eddie says, nodding. There’s a beat of silence before it clicks in his head. “Wait, Mother’s Day?”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “It’s tomorrow.” He raises his eyebrows at his father, wondering just how sleep-deprived he is. 

“Shit.”

Eddie forces himself to sit up straight, taking a deep breath as he prepares to stand.

“You forgot? Seriously?” Luke’s on the verge of laughing, but he doesn’t want to irritate an already grumpy Eddie. 

“Let’s see how well you sleep when you have five kids,” Eddie mumbles. 

Now Luke does laugh.

“Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

Eddie huffs as he pushes himself to his feet, and Luke heads into the kitchen.

“Fifty bucks says you’re the first one to give me a grandkid,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, heading down the hallway towards his room. 

When he opens his door, Eddie breathes a sigh of relief that Eliza is still awake. There would’ve been no way in hell he’d wake her up and deal with that mighty wrath. 

Large brown eyes peer over the top of her stuffed pig to watch her father curiously. Her golden dragon acts like a pillow beneath her head as the Disney movie plays in the background. 

“Wanna come to the store with me?” Eddie hopes his words reflect more enthusiasm than he feels.

Eliza’s brow furrows, and her head swings towards the closed curtains covering the windows near the bed.

“It’s dark out. Why we going out?”

Eddie grabs a t-shirt from his drawer that doesn’t have holes in it and swaps it out for the ratty one he’s wearing. 

“I forgot that tomorrow is Mother’s Day,” Eddie admits, knowing full well it will end up getting back to you. He knows you’ll give him some slack with how exhausted you’ve both been, though. “We gotta get Mama a present.”

Pig stuffy falling to the side, Eliza bolts up straight and stares at her father with wide eyes.

“You forgot?!”

“Hey,” he teases, coming over to scoop her up from the bed, “you didn’t remember either.”

The little girl gives him an unimpressed look as he sets her down on the carpet. 

“I’m four.”

“Well, Miss Four-Year-Old, are you coming or not?” 

“Gotta get presents from the babies too!” she calls as she runs out of the room to get her shoes. 

“Right.” Eddie nods as he slips his wallet into his pocket. “A gift from six-week-old babies, got it.”

He heads back towards the kitchen and finds Luke’s head buried in the fridge, the bouquet of flowers he had bought already in a vase on the counter. Eddie slaps a hand on his son’s shoulder and presses the baby monitor against his chest.

“I need you to keep an ear out for the twins, yeah? I’m gonna run to the store with Eliza.”

Luke nods, his mouth stuffed with God knows what. He takes the baby monitor from his dad and gives him a thumbs-up. 

“And thanks for saving my ass,” Eddie says. 

Luke chuckles, and Eddie scoops his keys off the counter. The sound of little feet pound down the stairs, and Eddie meets your daughter in the living room. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie opens the front door, and the two of them slip outside.

“Think of what you might want to get her on the way there, okay?”

“Okay!”

Despite the request, your husband knows it won’t be that simple. Taking Eliza to the store to buy something can turn into a grand event. She can never make up her mind and has to hold everything in her hands to study it, like it’s an ancient scroll. 

“What does she want for breakfast?” Eliza asks halfway to Target. 

“Uh.” Eddie thinks as he turns right onto another street. “She loves when you make her waffles, right?”

“Yeah!” This sparks excitement in the small girl. “Can use the Mickey Mouse waffle maker!”

“Perfect,” Eddie says with a nod. “We’ll get the ingredients for that. What do you think we should get from the babies?”

Normally, he’d ask just to include Eliza in the whole process, but right now he’s genuinely hoping she has some ideas. 

“Umm,” she hums, little fingers tapping at her chin. “Sweater?”

“It’s almost summer, babe,” he tells her.

“Oh yeah. Uh, shoes?”

“What about other than stuff she can wear?” Eddie knows Eliza would pick out the most sparkled and glittery heels she could find, and that would be the last thing you need now, as you’re constantly covered in vomit or worse. 

“Book?”

“That’s a good one,” Eddie admits with a nod. You might not have much spare time to read now, but he knows you’ll pick it up eventually. 

Eddie pulls into the parking lot and breathes a sigh of relief when there’s an empty spot right up front. He hops out of the car, Eliza following his lead, and the two of them walk hand in hand into the store. 

There’s a bright red cart sitting near the entrance, so Eddie nabs it. Before she even has time to ask—because she always does—Eddie scoops Eliza up and seats her in the carriage. She grins as she makes herself comfortable, her small fingers sliding into the holes on the side of the cart.

“Alright, where do we start?” Eddie isn’t asking anyone in particular, mostly just musing aloud. But nonetheless, Eliza points towards the book section.

“That way!”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Two books,” Eliza instructs as Eddie rolls her down between two shelves littered with books of every size. “One from Hayden. One from Scarlett.”

“Makes sense,” he replies as he moves down towards the adult section. 

“Ooh, ooh!” Eliza points at a paperback book with what looks like a White Witch on the cover. “That one.”

Eddie picks it up and scans over the summary on the back. There are witches, faeries, and romance—it meets a lot of your criteria.

“Good pick,” Eddie tells the four-year-old, handing her the book.

She nods in thanks and sets it down next to her in the cart. 

“Look! There’s a dog on that book!”

“Uh…” Eddie grimaces. “I don’t think Mama will want Cujo for Mother’s Day.”

“That’s a weird name,” Eliza says, her button nose wrinkling up in distaste.

“Well, he’s a weird dog,” Eddie replies, eyes scanning over the other books. 

A few books down, he sees a woman on the cover of a paperback that reminds him of you. He picks it up and takes a look at the summary.

“That looks like Mama,” Eliza says, tilting her head to get a better look at the cover.

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie says, deciding this book sounds decent enough. He tosses it to Eliza, who stacks it on top of the other one. “Where should we head now?”

Dark curls whip back and forth as Eliza looks all around her, trying to pick which way they should go. 

“Cards?” she asks.

“Look at you and Luke, helping out my tired brain today. You want to make Mama a card I assume?”

“Yeah!” The look she gives him clearly says duh.

Eddie nods and heads down the craft aisle. He knows there’s probably a whole cache of art supplies at home she could use, but the last thing Eddie wants is to get home and form a search party to look for markers and glitter.

“Okay,” he says, hand reaching out towards the shelves. “We’ve got construction paper, markers—ooh wait, sparkly markers. What else?”

Eliza happily claps her hands at the exciting new markers she gets to use.

“Stickers?” she asks.

“What kind?” He rolls her down towards the end of the aisle, where the stickers are. There are far too many for Eliza to browse herself, she would take an eternity to look at each one. Instead, Eddie starts to list them off, hoping to make things quick. “We’ve got dinosaurs, butterflies, penguins, Care Bears, Transformers, kittens, turt–”

“Kitties!”

“There we go,” he says, grabbing the pack of stickers, a variety of kittens staring up at him. “Easy enough.”

The next aisle over is the beginning of the baby supplies, and Eddie figures that while he’s here, he might as well grab more diapers. God knows you’re going through them like water. 

“I don’t think she needs those,” Eliza jokes with a giggle. “She’s too big!”

“These might be the thing she’s most grateful for, actually,” he mumbles under his breath. “Any idea what you want to get her?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Eddie drawls, trying to keep any annoyance out of his tone. It’s not Eliza’s fault that he’s worn out and forgot what tomorrow is. “I’ll walk down the middle aisle, and you let me know if anything jumps out at you.”

He leads the cart to the main artery of Target, then strolls slowly down the wide space, giving Eliza time to peer down each aisle and take stock of what it holds. Fortunately, Eliza quickly finds something that catches her eye. Unfortunately, her taste is a little expensive.

“Mama will love this!” Eliza coos. She gestures to the heated back massager and, honestly, Eddie can’t refute the claim. You would love it. You wouldn’t love what it costs, though. 

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed hand over his stubbled jaw. The fluorescent lights hum above, as if also awaiting his answer. The debate rages back and forth in his tired brain, but ultimately, he decides to get it. Is it a bit much? Yeah. But don’t you deserve that? After already being an incredible mother, carrying twins for nine months, and now being an absolute rock for everyone in the house while being exhausted yourself? The least Eddie can do is buy you this massager to help you relax. 

“You are right,” Eddie says as he picks up the large box. Eliza scoots over to make room for it next to her. She giggles when the box is taller than she is. “Next stop, waffle ingredients.”

When Eddie pulls into the driveway, your car is back. It would be almost impossible to get the bags and packages from the store past you. Thinking quick on his feet, Eddie reaches up and jabs at the remote garage opener. 

“Wheee!” Eliza cheers as the car rolls out of the streetlight and into the dark concrete space. 

Eddie puts the car into park, unbuckles his seatbelt, and turns around to face Eliza in her seat. 

“Alright, we’re only gonna take in the stuff for you to make your card; I’ll get the rest out once Mama goes to bed. That way she won’t know what we got.”

Eliza nods. “Got it.”

Your daughter shuffles out of her car seat and loops the plastic bag containing her art supplies over her tiny wrist. Eddie closes the garage behind them, and the two head towards the house. 

“Wait,” Eddie says as he comes to a halt. He jogs around to the back of the car and pulls the pack of diapers out. Tucking them under his arm, he pats them as he heads back to Eliza. “This is our excuse for going.”

“Good job, Daddy!”

She opens the door leading into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at the table with Ryan and Luke. There’s a tired smile on your face, but Eddie thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. You look up from your cup of coffee—decaf, of course—and give your husband and Eliza a smile. 

“Hi, Mama!” Eliza calls. She plops the bag down on the linoleum floor and runs over to you.

“Hey, sweet pea!” You scoot your chair back far enough that you can pull her into your lap. “What were you doing at Target?”

Eliza stares up at you, her eyes widening a comical amount. You purse your lips to keep from laughing.

“How did you know?” she asks, completely mystified. 

Doing your damndest to keep your smile in, you duck your head and point to the plastic bag she left near the door. 

“That’s a Target bag,” you say in a stage whisper. 

“Oh.” Eliza giggles and buries her face in your neck.

Eddie scoops up the bag and sets it down in front of you two girls on the table.

“There are your art supplies, Your Highness,” he says. He turns and sets the box of diapers down on the counter. “And these are for the royals upstairs. Who, I hope, are still sleeping?” Eddie turns and looks over his shoulder with a hopeful smile. 

“Snoozing away,” Luke confirms. 

“Perfect,” your husband says. 

Eliza opens her mouth in a wide yawn, which triggers you to do the same. 

“What do you say we head up to bed, kid?” you ask your daughter.

She nods as she lets out another yawn. A small hand comes up to rub her eye. Eddie makes a mental note to wake her up early so she can make her card for you. 

Eliza’s small arms wrap around your neck, and you stand up, balancing her on your hip. 

“Night, boys,” you say before walking over to Eddie. “Coming up to bed soon?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agrees before giving you a kiss. Eliza offers him her cheek, and he presses one there as well. “Goodnight, my beautiful ladies.”

As you walk towards the stairs, Eliza lays her head down on your shoulder, and you hold her a little bit tighter. Eddie watches until you start up the stairs, then he sits down in the chair you vacated. He lets out a deep sigh and drops his head down on the table.

Ryan cocks an eyebrow as he observes his father.

“You good?” he asks.

Eddie lifts one arm and gives him a thumbs-up. Luke snorts a laugh and leans towards his older brother.

“He forgot what tomorrow was,” he says, quiet enough that you won’t be able to hear. 

“I mean,” Ryan says with a shrug, “I’m surprised he remembers our names these days. He looks like a zombie lately.”

Eddie lifts his head and stares at his eldest child with a blank expression. 

“I take it you remembered, too?”

“Sure did.” Ryan’s mouth quirks up in a smug smile as he folds his arms across his chest. “Bought her a present in the gift shop of the museum.”

“What museum again?” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Chicago Museum of Art,” he reminds him. “Bought her a pack of socks that have different famous paintings on them.”

“That’s good,” Eddie says with a sleepy nod. “Her feet are always freezing. Hey, want to help a zombie out?”

“What’s up?” Ryan asks.

“Want to go get the stuff out of my car for your poor old man?” Eddie does his best to give his boys a pleading smile.

“Don’t worry, old man,” Ryan says, slapping his father on the back. He pushes his chair back and stands up. “Us youngsters got this.”

“I raise the best sons,” Eddie sighs, letting his head fall back to the table. 

Luke snorts a laugh and gets up to follow his brother towards the garage. 

Once the door smacks closed behind the boys, Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the microwave. 

“Look at that,” he mumbles to himself. “Solved Mother’s Day with a few hours to spare.”

Eddie tucks his arms beneath his head and waits for the boys to come back in with his purchases. He listens out for them, hearing the back of the car close. But he hears nothing after that. 

The door leading in from the garage opens and Ryan steps in, arms full of bags, and holds the door open with his foot for Luke to follow in with the large box containing the massager.

“Where do you want it, Dad?” Ryan asks. “Dad?”

Luke peeks around the side of the box and rolls his eyes. He sets the package down on the counter and shakes his head in amusement.

“He’s asleep.”

“Not surprised,” Ryan says. 

“Honestly,” Luke says with a sigh, “what would he do without us?”

[theshiniestgemstone]

Hi! I was wanting to request a fic where Gideon and the reader are getting married, but she doesn’t have any family and therefore no one to walk her down the aisle. Reader has a close relationship with Jesse and asks him if he’d walk her down the aisle. Maybe a scene with Gideon thanking Jesse for being there for the reader? Thank you so much! 😊

Jesse was notoriously sore that Gideon had asked Eli to officiate.

He didn’t throw one of his fits about it, shockingly, but everyone could tell he was in a mood the moment he saw OFFICIANT: ELI GEMSTONE printed in bold at the top of the wedding binder. His jaw clenched, eyebrows twitching just slightly before he tossed the binder aside like it was nothing, like he didn’t care at all.

Gideon tried to explain. Said it wasn’t personal, said he hadn’t even really thought about it that way. Only that Eli had less time ahead of him than behind, and this might be one of the last big milestones he’d get to be part of. He wasn’t trying to slight his dad. Just trying to make space for the man who helped raise him to bless the life he was starting. Besides, he was already planning on asking Jesse for any future baptisms they may need.

But Jesse wasn’t hearing it. He got pouty and petty, muttering under his breath during planning meetings and refusing to RSVP to the rehearsal dinner “until the schedule’s finalized.” He let the hurt sit there and fester in silence, too proud to say he felt left out.

Until you said it.

“Don’t worry, Jesse,” you offered one afternoon while flipping through swatches at the compound, not even looking up. “You can walk me down the aisle if my folks don’t show.”

That stopped him cold. He looked at you like you’d slapped him with a silk glove. He looked surprised, confused, and a little embarrassed. He scoffed, quietly kicking himself for being rude but not quite sure how to take it back without making it worse.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. Like there was no world in which a father would skip his daughter’s wedding.

But it did matter. More than he could say.

The truth is, Jesse doesn’t have many soft spots. Never has. But his most unexpected one is you. Maybe it’s because you’re nothing like Judy. Maybe it’s because you see him as more than just a blowhard, or maybe it’s just that you treat him with a tenderness he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

Whatever the reason, he took to you in a way that surprised even himself. The daughterless man did everything he could for you, like buying snacks he thought you liked, reminding security to let you in without hassle, loudly pretending he wasn’t proud when you did something impressive.

He picked on you constantly, of course. He called you “rookie” or “Mrs. Hollywood” or “bossy” depending on the day. But when others joined in, even in jest, he was the first to shut it down. There was something in the way he mirrored how Eli had always been with Judy when they were kids. A little rough around the edges, but protective beneath it all. Jesse might have started out playing the role of grumpy father in law, but over time, it shifted into something softer.

He never realized how much he’d mourn the things he didn’t get until you came along. Walking a daughter down the aisle was never something Jesse Gemstone had imagined for himself. Not really. But when you started showing up, bright-eyed and stubbornly loyal to Gideon in a way Jesse hadn’t seen before, something shifted.

You weren’t just a perfect match for his eldest. You were… familiar.

He saw flashes of his mama in you. The same quiet way you lit up when someone asked for help, the patient twinkle in your eye as you leaned in, genuinely listening like whatever they had to say was the most important thing in the world. There was something about your smile, too. He noticed how how it curled just slightly when you were trying not to cry, or laugh, or say something you shouldn’t. It reminded him of home.

The rehearsal dinner was short. The wedding planner was efficient, a little too brisk maybe, guiding everyone through the schedule like it was just another job. The afternoon sun made the linen tablecloths glow, but no one seemed to notice.

You looked pale.

Nervous.

Gideon stayed close, but even he couldn’t ground you entirely. You picked at your food, just nudged it around your plate like maybe if you stared long enough, the knot in your stomach would dissolve. Jesse noticed. He also noticed the three empty chairs on your side of the table.

They sat there like ghosts, right next to your maid of honor, whose smile grew more strained by the minute. The rest of your side looked unsettled, unsure if they should acknowledge the absence or pretend like everything was fine.

Jesse didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you. Watched how your hands trembled when you reached for your glass. Watched how your eyes darted toward the door every time it creaked open, only to look away just as fast.

You were still holding onto hope, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

+++

“They were supposed to start ten minutes ago,” Kelvin muttered, glancing around the garden with a slight edge in his voice. He shifted in place, tugging at the hem of his suit jacket as he looked toward the grand oak where the altar had been set up, gorgeous, bathed in late afternoon light, but still glaringly empty.

“Think she’s gettin’ cold feet?” Judy snickered, not bothering to lower her voice. She twisted a curl around her finger and leaned into the drama, clearly enjoying the rising tension.

Jesse turned his head so fast it was a wonder he didn’t strain something. He fixed her with a look of pure disgust, eyebrows raised, mouth tightening. “Shut up, Judy,” he hissed. “They’re probably just lookin’ for something.”

But even as he said it, he couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting back to the altar. To Gideon, standing alone under the canopy of flowers, his posture stiff and hands wringing in front of him. His son looked calm to the average eye, but Jesse had known that boy since he was a colicky redhead screaming his lungs out in the nursery and he could tell when something was off.

A few more restless minutes ticked by. Then the wedding planner snuck in through a side entrance near the edge of the garden. She moved fast, keeping her clipboard clutched tight to her chest. She leaned in close to Gideon, whispering something just out of earshot. Whatever she said, it wasn’t rehearsed.

Gideon’s expression didn’t change much, but Jesse saw the sharp inhale, the subtle flinch behind the eyes. Still, the boy nodded, straightened his shoulders, and followed her toward the house without a word.

The guests didn’t notice much. A few tilted their heads, whispering amongst themselves. The band shuffled awkwardly on the edge of the gazebo.

But Jesse noticed.

He noticed everything. Including the three empty chairs on the other side of the aisle, still untouched. Like placeholders for ghosts. Like reminders that not everyone showed up when it mattered most.

He looked toward Amber, whose brow was gently furrowed in concern. She was watching him. Always did.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” Jesse murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple before slipping down the side of the seating area.

His gut told him where he needed to be.

Jesse moved with purpose down the polished hallway, past the catering crew and distant murmurs of the planner on her headset, ignoring the looks shot his way. He didn’t bother knocking when he reached the bridal suite. He just opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was divided by a decorative folding screen, preventing both of them from seeing you. Light from the tall windows cut across the space in long, golden stripes, casting shadows that told him everything before he heard a single word. Your silhouette was unmistakable behind the divider. Your arms flailing gently, hands waving like you were trying to fan away a panic you couldn’t outrun. Your shoulders shook, the fragile line of your back crumpled in on itself. You were trying not to sob. Jesse could hear it in the choked breaths you took between words.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice strained and cracked. “I just… I thought maybe they’d walk through the door. Or call. Or something. I told myself I wouldn’t let it ruin the day. I’m so sorry, Gideon.”

“Baby, they don’t know what they’re missing,” he said gently. “This isn’t about them. It’s our day. You don’t have to be okay right now, but I swear to you, we’ll get through it. You’ve got me. You’ve got everyone who showed up. And if you want to walk out there and skip the whole damn thing, I’ll follow you anywhere. Just say the word.”

Jesse stood at the threshold, the sound of your breath hitching making his chest tighten. He didn’t mean to overhear. He wasn’t trying to intrude, but something about the sight of you doubled over in grief behind that fancy screen made his hands curl into fists at his sides.

“Gideon,” Jesse said, voice low but steady, “can I talk to her?”

Gideon looked back at him, worry still written all over his face. He hesitated for a second, then swallowed hard and gave a small nod. There was a flicker of relief there too, like he was grateful someone else had come to carry the weight for a moment. “Sure, Dad.”

He gave the divider one last glance before quietly slipping out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Jesse stepped farther into the room, eyes still on the divider. “Y/N? It’s just me.”

A pause.

“Go away, Jesse.”

He sighed softly. Not defeated, just understanding. He moved slowly, like the wrong sound might send you crumbling. “I know this is probably the wrong time to ask,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “but, uh… does that offer still stand? For me to walk you down the aisle or whatever?”

The silence stretched thin. Then came the rustle of fabric, a sharp sniff, and finally, you stepped out from behind the divider.

Your makeup was smudged just a little at the corners of your eyes, but you still looked beautiful, like the air had tried to crush you and you stood up anyway.

“You’d do that?” you asked, voice small, disbelieving. “For real?”

Jesse nodded without hesitation. “Yeah,” he said simply.

Then he crossed to the table beneath the window, where your bouquet rested, all wildflowers and soft blooms. He picked it up with surprising gentleness, examined it for a second, then plucked a single sprig and tucked it into the breast pocket of his suit.

“I know you didn’t buy a dress like that just to cry in it all day.” His words were casual, but they landed like a warm blanket. “Let’s go make you a Gemstone.”

The music started soft and slow, and as the guests rose to their feet, Jesse offered you his arm. You looped yours through his with only a moment’s hesitation, but that was all he needed. That split-second where your fingers tightened around his jacket sleeve told him everything.

You trusted him.

Not because he was perfect or said the right things. Hell, most of the time he said the wrong ones. But you trusted that he’d show up. That he meant it when he said he’d walk you down the aisle.

And now here you were glowing in your dress, eyes still glassy but no longer unsure, as the two of you moved down the aisle together, step by steady step. The late sun filtered through the trees, casting golden light over everything, and Jesse felt a strange tightness in his chest, like his heart had grown too big for his ribs.

Every so often, he glanced toward the front, where Gideon waited, standing tall, hands clasped tightly in front of him, jaw working like he might cry if he breathed too hard.

And when you reached him, when Jesse placed your hand in his son’s, something unspoken passed between the three of you.

Jesse blinked hard, clearing the sudden sting in his eyes. He wiped a tear off his cheek with the side of his thumb, trying not to make a big deal out of it, but you saw. You and Gideon both did.

He hugged you first, your hand still in his. “You look like a miracle,” he whispered against your hair. Then he hugged Gideon, pulling him close and clapping his back just once before stepping aside.

With a quiet breath, Jesse took his seat next to Amber, who wordlessly reached for his hand. He felt the stares in the way Judy was blinking like she couldn’t believe what she’d seen, Kelvin mouthing something to Keefe. But Jesse didn’t look their way. He didn’t need to.

Eli gave him a small, proud nod from the front row. That one, Jesse let himself return. But it all fell away the second he looked back at you and Gideon.

The way you looked at each other with your eyes full, hearts open, steady like the world could spin apart and it wouldn’t matter. Jesse had never seen anything like it. And for a man who’d built his whole life on faith, that look felt like church.

As the ceremony shifted into the reception, laughter and clinking glasses filled the garden. Jesse tried to melt into the background, plate in hand, drink untouched. But people kept finding him.

“You really saved the day, Jesse.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Big softie, huh?”

He nodded, shrugged, offered polite smiles and a grumbled, “It was her day,” each time. And that was the truth of it. It wasn’t about him. It never had been. He didn’t need the credit.

He’d already gotten his reward. He got it in the way you smiled when you saw Gideon, and the way his boy had looked back like there was no one else in the world.

The music had quieted. The candles burned lower. A few relatives still hovered by the dessert table, sipping from half-full glasses and swaying gently to the fading hum of the band packing up. Most of the guests had already filtered out, throwing hugs and laughter over their shoulders as they went.

Jesse stood just outside the garden tent waiting for Amber, her jacket draped over one shoulder, tie loosened, shoes dusty from the grass. He glanced up at the clear sky and let out a long breath like he was finally letting go of the weight he hadn’t realized he’d carried all day.

He was about to head toward the lot when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey,” Gideon said.

Jesse turned, and there was his son with his bowtie crooked, hair a little frizzed from dancing, eyes shining with something heavier than the night deserved.

“Hey,” Jesse replied, adjusting the jacket over his shoulder. “Y’all takin’ off?”

“Yeah,” Gideon nodded. “Almost. Just… had to find you first.”

Jesse raised a brow. “That right?”

Gideon stood there for a beat too long, shifting once, then squared his shoulders. “I just wanted to say thank you. For what you did today.”

Jesse shook his head, already brushing it off. “Ain’t nothin’. Just walked her down an aisle.”

“No,” Gideon said, firmer now. “No, it was something. You showed up for her. You didn’t make it about you, or the fact that she asked grandpa to officiate, or whatever else could’ve gotten in the way. You just… showed up.” His voice wavered then, and Jesse watched him exhale through it, struggling to keep control.

“You showed me what it looks like to be a real man. What it looks like to take care of people.”

Jesse blinked. Once, then twice. His jaw flexed and he looked away, fighting off the way his throat was tightening.

“Well,” he finally said, voice rough. “That’s what daddies are supposed to do.”

They stood there in silence for a second too long before Jesse reached out and pulled Gideon in, arms strong and firm around his son’s shoulders. He clapped his back, maybe a little too hard.

“I’m proud of you, Gideon,” he murmured. “I mean it.”

“I know,” Gideon whispered. “I love you, Dad.”

Jesse didn’t say it back. At least, not in words. But he held on tighter, a little longer, and when he finally let go, there were tears in both their eyes.

Then Jesse gave him a crooked little grin and swatted his arm. “Now go on. You got a honeymoon to get to. Don’t keep your wife waitin’. Last thing you need is someone bitching at you when you’re supposed to be relaxin’.”

Gideon smiled, nodding. He backed away a few steps before turning and jogging off, a soft whoop echoing from the garden as he returned to your side.

Jesse stayed behind for just a second longer, watching the two of you disappear into the night hand in hand, faces lit by nothing but headlights and each other.

[coquettepascal]

like tiramisu

summary: nothing beats summer vacation like a secret relationship with your dad's best friend, right? wrong! what really beats summer vacation is trying not do jump joel's bones every time you're alone.

tags: 18+, smut, fluff, beach fic, age gap (it's dbf!joel, imagine what you want), dbf!joel, misuse of sunscreen, semi-public activities (not sex), groping, massaging, reader has a dad and brother, overuse of the word pretty, nicknames like pretty___ and baby, oral sex (f!recieving), she/her pronouns for your pussy, joel gets blueballed, fluff, joel and reader are very much in love, established relationship, secret relationship, stereotypical oblivious reader's!dad, mention of food poisoning (nothing graphic), slight grumpy!joel, soft!dom joel (ish)

a/n: woo!! i did it :D this is my submission for @hellishjoel's hot dilf summer challenge (link to the masterlist.) i'm a big fan of their work so i'm just happy to participate. tysm for this opportunity!

(3.6k, not beta read.)

Every year you travel to the coast with your dad and brother, enjoying a week at the tail end of summer to really relax. This year, your brother got sick, and so Joel took his place.

Like Joel, your dad’s best friend. You know, the one that you slept with a month ago one night after everyone went to bed? Joel like kind-of-your-secret-boyfriend-Joel. Simple situation really, you don’t know why you nearly shit yourself when Joel was standing in your driveway dragging a suitcase behind him. 

But, as Joel does, he’s made this easy. It shouldn’t be easy to be separated from him, but it’s made the small moments you can get with him better. Besides, you still get to see him in his handsome glory, all tan and broad and…

The not-easy part is not jumping on him every time your dad turns around. 

—

“Why is this so much more expensive than ice cream?” Joel asks you, eyes squinted as he peers at the chalkboard that hangs above the gelato cooler.

The family in front of you orders and literally pays with a 50 dollar bill, still not getting anywhere near a justifiable amount of change back. Joel squints at the board harder and you smile up at him. He needs glasses, you’ve been telling him this whole trip. 

“Having trouble?” You ask teasingly. Joel’s head turns, face already scowling, but then the employee behind the counter is asking for your order before he can tear you a new one.

Joel is still scowling at you as he shells out 25 dollars for 2 “adult size” cones. 

“S’not necessary to spend this much money on vacation, darlin’, we’re already relaxed,” He grumbles as you walk out of the air conditioned business, back into the beachy heat outside. 

Innocently, you lick up a drip of the tiramisu flavored gelato that drips down the cone. Joel’s eyes narrow more, clearly not appreciative of your behavior so far today. His face eases up when he takes a bite out of his mango sherbet, cooling his flamed temper. 

Your hand snakes into his free one as you walk down the beach, back to where your things are. It’s a quieter day on the beach, luckily. The past week you’ve spent with your father and Joel has been a hectic race for who can find a good spot on the beach, who can find a good spot to sit and eat, and who can find a good spot where the three of you can be left the fuck alone. 

Today you’ve found a good spot, tucked away behind some larger rocks. It kind of looks like it could be dangerous to be there when the tide comes in, but it’s out far today. You’re fine, you’re with Joel, and most importantly, the two of you are alone. 

Your dad ate some bad shrimp last night at dinner and has a horrible case of food poisoning. He assured both of you that he’d be fine on his own, to go enjoy the sun. 

God knows you both will.

You hop over to the blanket you had laid out, cowering under the shade of the rainbow umbrella Joel had bought earlier in the week. He claimed it was so you wouldn’t get heatstroke, but you have a feeling it was more for the sake of his skin. 

As you kick off your sandals, Joel sits down beside you under the umbrella, slurping obnoxiously at the remnants of his mango cone. Most of yours is still intact, though a bit melty. It’s something to marvel at, how Joel can inhale any food of any temperature in the blink of an eye. But it makes up his soft tummy, the one you can rest your head on later when you want to soak up the sun. 

“Do you wanna try mine?” You ask, noting the hungry eyes he’s giving your gelato. He nods and so you lean over to him, extending the cone.

And just as he leans in to take a massive bite, you jerk your hand, smearing tiramisu gelato onto the tip of his nose. 

“Oh my fucking god,” he groans, pulling back, “that’s not fucking funny.” 

But it is funny. Seeing the white cream smudged on his nose, tangled in the bristles of his moustache. You can’t help but laugh at him. 

“That’s what you get for trying to chomp half of my treat!” You point out.

Joel’s head tilts at you, as if to say “really?” 

“Okay fine, I’ll fix it,” you huff. Passing your gelato to your free hand, you lean forward and suck the tip of his nose into your mouth, slurping off the remaining mess. 

Pulling back with a pop, you see Joel’s horrified face. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He groans, wiping your saliva off his face. 

Joel gives you a look, clearly expecting some sort of repayment for the ridiculous stunt you just pulled. Begrudgingly, you hand the rest of your cone to him, but only because you really should put on sunscreen.

—

The sun beats down on you as you lay against Joel’s chest and belly, his legs spread to make room for you. He’s wearing black board shorts that cut off around his mid-thigh, leaving more skin exposed. Joel didn’t wear these ones yesterday, or any day previous. It was just the same red shorts that went down to his knees. But today, he matches you and your black two piece. His thick thighs firmly frame you, keeping you in place. 

“You need to reapply your sunscreen, sweetheart,” Joel hums, blindly pawing the blanket for wherever you tossed the bottle earlier. 

Streams of sunlight bathe you where you sit, the sun no longer blocked by the rainbow umbrella Joel insisted on. You planned on tanning anyways, so you don’t mind as much as Joel seems to. He grabs the sunscreen and his sunglasses, tossing them on. 

Your chin is tucked to your chest, crunched as Joel leans over you more, opening the cap of the lotion. The liquid is so cold in comparison to the warm sun rays that blanket the two of you, a near-pained hiss escaping you.

“Don’t be a baby,” Joel grunts, working the sunscreen into your abdomen.

His hands work your soft flesh so gently, his calloused palms spreading the protective lotion carefully. Joel’s thumbs dig a little harder as he feels your hip bones beneath his hands, making you protest weakly. You know what he’s doing, taking this private opportunity for his own gain.

“Joel,” you warn whinily, squirming. 

His hands grasp you in place, holding you while the cords of muscle on his forearms pop. 

“I said don’t be a baby,” he repeats slower this time, his voice rumbling in your ear.

“We both know you’ve taken worse.”

Yeah. Yeah you do know that. It doesn’t shut you up anymore, whining as he reaches to massage your thighs, his hands slipping to your inner thighs fast. You can barely process his touch there before he’s sliding his hands back to a more appropriate spot, your arms. He’s keeping it PG for the most part at least. The nagging fear of your dad suddenly showing up despite his illness lives in the back of your mind. 

Joel massages your wrists and the palms of your hands, thumbs pushing the flesh soothingly as he murmurs in your ear about how soft you are, how perfect. 

He was keeping it PG, but he’s getting selfish now. The orange sun is painting your skin in a way that’s making it hard for him to think, and it’s been so long since he’s had you alone. Your eyes glaze over as he drips more lotion into his palms, rubbing it between them slowly. 

“Don’t wanna forget your chest, would hate for my pretty girl to burn,” is all the warning you get.

Joel’s arms loop beneath yours, his wet palms sliding up your abdomen and then beneath your swim top. Big hands envelope the starting swell of your breasts, coming upwards and smothering your sensitive skin in sunscreen. His name slips out again, choked and surprised, but this isn’t unwanted.

You miss Joel. Even as he’s been here with you for this whole week, you miss his kisses and his touch. Sleeping in the same room as him, but in separate beds, has been awful. To hear him snore without feeling the vibration of it on your own skin has been treacherous. 

So you’re letting him have this, because as much as you hunger for him, that man is ravenous.

His thumbs rub over your nipples, most of your top bunched up on his knuckles now. Joel’s voice is low in your ears, talking soft like you aren’t in total privacy on the beach. Everything is flying now, his mouth uncontrollable as he tells you how good you feel, how much he missed you. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, all week you’ve been so gorgeous, darlin,’” 

And then the kisses start. Hot down your neck, his scruffy face trails, tongue tracing the bitemarks he leaves occasionally. 

“Joel– Joel no marks,” you remind softly.

He obliges with a grunt, clearly unhappy with the situation. Sometimes he can get away with little marks, ones like on your inner thighs or your tits. But not here on a beach vacation, not so close to your dad. 

Joel continues to kiss you regardless, tilting your head so he can awkwardly meet your lips as he gropes you, massaging the lotion in as if the sun would ever hit any skin below your swimsuit. The atmosphere is only getting hotter as he touches you, the sun blazing against your skin as Joel rolls your nipples between his fingers, making you cry out.

You want more, you need more.

You can feel him hard against you, slightly digging into your back. Sex on the beach is a terrible idea. Public indecency, sand in places it shouldn’t be… but it’s so tempting when you feel how badly he wants you, how badly he missed you. 

Desperately, you turn in his embrace, his hands slipping out of your top, leaving you exposed. You shove your face against his hungrily, feeling as his sunscreen greased hand cups your jaw, gentle even when he’s starving. You open for him easily, letting his hungry tongue taste where he wants. He tastes like waffle cones and tiramisu, you want to lick him clean. You breathe heavily when he slips off your mouth and kisses the side of your face.

“S’a good girl, lettin’ me miss her,” he says into your skin.

Your mouth feels rubbed raw, your nipples are buzzing, and the sun blazes across your back. Everywhere feels warm, his lips, his tongue, your skin, your cunt in these bikini bottoms that stick to you in the worst way. You want Joel’s fingers, spreading you open however he wants. 

Joel is so good at taking care of you, so good that he can hear the rambunctious group of people coming before you can. Hands tug down your top and flip you back around before you can realize.

“You’re alright, s’okay, just some people,” Joel says, sounding anxious himself. 

Just some people. Not anyone you know, just some people.

The two of you quickly switch back to how youwere, your head on his chest while you rest between his thighs. One of his hands rests on your abdomen as he squeezes you affectionately between his legs. It’s really frustrating, watching as the group of people sets up not too far down from the both of you. So much for your private spot on the beach, and potential sex. 

He shifts beneath you, the bulge in his swim shorts uncomfortable. Joel has settled for rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin of your tummy, catching his breath still. 

“You can sleep, baby. Jus’ enjoy the sun, okay?”

The last thing on your mind is sleep, you’re more focused on the conch shell in his pants, but whatever. The sun is warm, and you’re with Joel. His hand stills on your belly, a warm weight in an attempt to soothe you.

-

It works, you fall asleep as the sun sets, and wake up when the cool night air shivers past you. Joel has managed to snake out from under you, using an unused beach towel to make a pillow for you. He’s packed everything up, sans the towel pillow and the blanket you lay on. Everything is ready to go, he’s just been waiting for you.

You watch from where you lay, as he dips his toes in the water. His broad shoulders are covered by a white, linen, shirt, highlighting him across the shore. Something about this is so right, to be on vacation with him, to be taken care of by him. Laying back, eyes staring into the inky night, you wonder what would have happened if the two of you hadn’t stayed up late that night, chatting and flirting. How long would you have gone without feeling loved, and like you belonged? 

Being Joel’s girl is more than that, even if no one knows you’re his, you have come to know yourself through him. His hands brushed away the sands that blurred your eyes, you’re seeing clearly for what feels like the first time ever.

Your love for him crashes down on you hard when he turns, walking back to you with a soft, dorky, smile. That’s your man, that’s your stupid old man, and he loves you.

“You ready t’go, darlin?” Joel asks, clearly relieved you eventually woke up.

With a nod, you walk as a pair back to the hotel. Joel insists on carrying everything, claiming he “don’t need” your help, even as he grunts.

-

Entering  the lobby of the hotel is a reminder that you have to be normal again, you and Joel are just getting along swell, and not seriously infatuated with one another.

His eyes bear into you when you step into the elevator, you can feel his eyes on your back as you press the button for your floor.

“What?” You ask, stepping back to lean against the railing.

Joel’s mouth seems to be dry as he responds, eyes tracing something on your stomach.

“Your tummy,” he manages.

You look down instantly, concerned you’ve managed a sunburn despite Joel’s efforts. Instead though, you find a tan line. A tan line in the shape of Joel’s hand, where it rested as you slept. Ghosts of Joel’s lips and teeth on your neck from earlier murmur across your skin, misting tingles across your shoulders and chest. He wanted to mark you so badly, wanted to sink his teeth into you the way he should have been able to, despite your refusal. Now he has his mark, across your tummy in the shape of his hands, the ones that carefully nurture you. 

You can see how it’s making him tick, how his scruffy jaw is clenched as his eyes are entranced by the shape on your belly. He has to spend the rest of the evening, the last couple of days of this trip, with his mark on you. Joel has to do all of that and not jump onto you at every opportunity he can.

“Baby,” Joel breathes, but the elevator doors open, and your dad is right there.

Your arms instantly wrap around your middle, trying to hide away the Joel-hand shaped tan line. As sick as your dad was this morning, he’s looking miles better. There’s colour in his cheeks, that isn’t green, and he’s standing up.

“Hey kid,” he greets cheerfully, “I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better so I was gonna go out and grab a bite to eat.”

The elevator is so quiet, the doors try to shut and Joel slams a hand against it, to keep it open. Your dad looks a little weirded out, but just smiles. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you manage to say, sounding like your lungs have been cut out of your chest.

In the few months that you and Joel have been “together” you haven’t been caught, or even close to being caught. This tan line on your tummy could have been the cat out of the bag, but thankfully your dad seems oblivious.

He steps into the elevator between you two, gently nodding at the elevator doors.

“Y’all gettin’ out? Both of y’look kinda sunfried,” your dad asks.

Joel manages to respond this time as the two of you hurriedly leave the confined space. -

He practically dragged you down the hallway and back to your room once the elevator doors shut, leaving your dad in the dark. Joel dumped all your stuff on the floor near the door, pushing you off him when you tried to kiss at him.

“Naw. Bed,” he had grumbled, making a vague gesture to your bed.

You both knew you had limited time, your dad would be gone for an hour tops. Joel had peeled off his shirt while you shimmied out of what little clothes you had on, your swimsuit coverup falling away easily.

Now, you lay on your back, and if you could look down, you would see the sweat that’s soaking his back and the mess of hair on his head.

But you can’t look down, you can barely move as is. Your legs, which are tossed over his shoulders, shiver, toes curled. You want to ask if he can breathe down there, but your voice keeps catching, repeating his name again and again. The bristles of his facial hair might be chafing, but everything is wet right now, your cunt, his face, your thighs. He’s suffocating in your flesh, opening his mouth to sloppily make out with your pussy, licking at your clit as he sucks it between his lips. It isn’t gentle, he’s fucking famished.

“Joel– Baby, please,” you manage to whimper. 

He probably can’t hear you with the headlock you’ve put him in, soft thighs trapping his ears. Joel’s face slides down further to push his tongue into you, making you clench and gush as his nose presses to your clit. Reaching your hand down, you lace your fingers against his curls, trying to pry him away, but he just won’t quit. Your fingers slip from his sweaty strands, slamming onto the sheets as he doesn’t let up.

“Missed you, missed her,” he rasps between kisses. 

Joel loves this, loves pleasing you. This isn’t submission, this is worship. He talks to your cunt like he knows her, like he’s dating her too. Gentle as he is, he knows where your aches and cricks are, knows how to massage them with his fingers and tongue. Joel takes care of you both, it’s what he lives for. 

“I know, I can feel it, I missed you too,” you babble, hands flagrant between his hair and the sheets.

He laughs softly into you, smiling. You tug him closer, grinding onto his nose as a tease. 

Joel focuses on bringing himself closer, arms snaking up beneath your ass to curl his hands around your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulls you closer. “Been so patient all week, need you t’come for me, please pretty thing?” He groans.

Nodding your head, you start to work with him. Again and again you roll your hips into his face. The two of you are fucking on borrowed time and Joel hastily promises you that he can take care of himself in the shower later, that he just needs to focus on you.

“Just need to taste you, remember your cunt in my mouth, please?” Joel asks.

You nod even faster now, huffing out air as your hips rise and he pulls you closer, tongue and teeth and nose buried in you. Every movement he makes begs for your release, begs for you to give him what he wants. His voice rumbles around your head, a voice encouraging this selfish feeling of pleasure.

“C’mon darlin, I’ve been waitin’ all week to have you. Let go for me, I’ve been patient.”

It sends you over, the mixture of Joel getting pussydrunk on you and the thoughts of him in your head. Your thighs lock around his head even harder, and he powers through without taking a breath for himself. Thoughts of times with him previous flash through your mind as you shiver, thoughts of what he’ll do to you once you’re both home make you gush. He laps it all up, his reward for being patient. 

When he pulls away, your essence is all over his face. Slicked through his facial hair and even on the tip of his nose, like tiramisu gelato. 

Unlike the gelato, you decide not to suck this cream off his nose.

Gently, you swipe a finger over his nose, cleaning it off with your own tongue.

“Thank you, baby,” you hum.

Joel manages to drag himself up your body, caging you beneath him while he smiles. Soft kisses are shared between the two of you, enjoying the peaceful moment where you’re finally, truly, alone. His moustache prickles your upper lip as he smiles and pulls away.

“Can give me your ‘thank you’s’ in a few days time, sweet girl.” He says, pulling himself down to kiss the 5 fingertips of the hand tan line he left.

Looking down at him as he kisses your belly, you hope you'll be exchanging thank you's for a very long time.

[junnieverse]

DADDY DAY CARE ➳ H. DONGMIN

➙ synopsis: with you at work due to an emergency and taesan having the weekend off from his own job, this was the perfect time for him to spend some quality time with his daughter.

pairing: han taesan x afab!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.0k

warning: not proofread, set in the future where taesan is much older (like late 20s), domestic husband taesan may melt your heart

a/n: this was originally in my drafts (for a very, and i mean VERY long time- like years) written for hanbin, but since I no longer write for zb1 and I found taesan’s interactions with babies so cute, this seemed like the perfect member to go with

a/n (2): taesan never beating the girl dad allegations <3 [ REBLOGS HIGHLY APPRECIATED! ]

“Okay, I have to get going now or I’m gonna be late. Remember she has to have her nap time at one or she’ll get grumpy. And do NOT let her eat a lot of sugar.”

Going through the last of your instructions, your husband only nods as your glare softens at the sight of your 11 month old daughter cradled in his arms.

“Bye my butterfly, mommy loves you so so much.” you litter kisses all over her chubby little cheeks as giggles erupt from her.

Turning back to your husband again, you also give him his own well deserved peck on the lips before he speaks up, “don’t worry honey, I got this. Butterfly and I are gonna be perfectly fine.”

Nodding, you let out one last silent prayer for your house and child to be in one piece by the time you come back and make your way out feeling your heart hurting having to leave your family even if it would be for just a few hours.

It was a weekend but your boss had called you in to work to finish up some last minute preparations for a presentation your team had been working on seeing as some issues had arose and your help was needed to fix it.

Luckily for you, your husband, found this as the perfect chance to bond with your daughter since he rarely got to spend much time with just her alone.

With the unexpected call into work, Taesan offered to stay home with your daughter, whom you referred to by her nickname “butterfly” which Taesan himself had started calling her ever since finding out you were both having a girl during your pregnancy.

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a bit hesitant at first. Despite how incredible of a husband and father Taesan was, this would be his first time being on "daddy duties", as he called them, on his own and you were just hoping he would be able to handle it.

“Okay butterfly. How about getting ready to go out for a walk with me huh, since mommy already gave you breakfast.” he asks the baby in his arms as she only smiles back, probably at the mention of her dearest mom.

Now Taesan had his own personal style he liked keeping to, but he could admit that getting his daughter dressed was simply not his forte.

Placing the little girl down on her playmat as she grabbed a nearby building block enamoured by the colours, Taesan turned his attention to her closet faced with his first challenge of the day.

Letting out a huff, his hands rest on his hips as his foot lightly taps on the floor with his eyes scanning the rack of various clothes.

"What do we think butterfly, are we feeling more colourful with glitter today or do you want sequins?" he asks turning to the preoccupied baby who only babbles back in response as her form of communication.

"Both it is!"

Pulling out a pastel-coloured and sequinned dress from the hanger, a pair of white frilly socks, and silver glittery ballet flats with little bows on the front to complete the entire look.

"Wow bun, I'd say I did a pretty good job don't you think~" he once again asks admiring his style of work cooing at the baby as he blows raspberries into her stomach making her laugh as he smiled.

Next, he grabbed her little ribbons as he sat down behind her preparing to tie her hair just as he had watched you do all the time.

For a good five minutes he seemed to struggle seeing as his very playful daughter couldn't sit still wanting to play with all the toys around her.

Like a cartoonish lightbulb moment hitting him, Taesan takes his silver Chrome Hearts necklace off dangling the chain in front of his daughter catching her attention.

"Look at the shiny necklace butterfly, play with this so daddy can do your hair please." he pleads as her tiny grasp reaches for the necklace quietly observing the new object with high interest.

Taesan exhales in relief as she was now sitting quietly playing with the necklace around her neck as he attempted to part her hair in two to give her little space buns.

"And... done." he huffs adding the last yellow bow to her head admiring her hair.

Evidently skew and still mildly unkept with a few curls falling out, he was proud of his first attempt at doing her hair having expected it to look a lot worse.

With butterfly in the carrier on his chest, tucked and secured, Taesan decided to use the late morning to get his daily steps in and let the both of them get some fresh air and sun for the day.

Making a stop by a nearby ice cream truck, he orders himself one before sitting by the bench watching the kids nearby play as he enjoyed his soft serve ice cream.

"Don't think I didn't notice you eyeing my ice cream missy. You want some? No, you can't have any~" he teases her inching the ice cream near her as she opens her mouth, only to pull it away and lick it as she watched.

Her small face suddenly changed as her eyes began to water and her pout full on display growing upset at her dad's teasing.

"Wait no no- don't cry butterfly. Here, have some. But don't tell mommy about this, let's keep it between us." he pinky promises as he joins his pinky with her tiny one making him internally scream from the cuteness aggression.

Carefully letting her lick some ice cream, her smile grows back and he leans down to kiss her forehead.

"You just have daddy wrapped around your tiny finger don't you." he rhetorically asks noticing some ice cream on her nose.

His camera on his phone open, Taesan captures the moment quickly, saving the picture as his new wallpaper as he chuckles to himself realising she still had his necklace around her neck this entire time.

Giving her some of her own puffs to snack on for the time being, your husband made sure to send you short clips and pictures throughout the day of him and butterfly to show you that they were both still doing well and missing you, her words, not his, according to him.

It was small moments like this Taesan enjoyed most.

Due to the nature and demand of his job, he didn't get to spend as much time as he would've liked to with both you and your daughter. But when he did get the chance, he made sure to cherish every little moment because you were both his favourite people.

Looking down at his daughter, he notices the small yawn escape past her lips and noticing the time on his phone, Taesan realised it was nearing her nap time and decided that was enough outside time for them both.

It was now 1:23pm and Taesan was now faced with his next challenge.

Butterfly was meant to be long asleep, but after changing into her onesie to get comfortable, she was seemingly putting up a fight wanting to stay up with her dad.

She had been fighting to stay awake that it started to frustrate her because her body also knew it was naptime, making her a very grumpy grouch.

This gave Taesan the bright to try and wear out her energy until she couldn't stay up from the exhaustion.

"Daddy brought you some paper, so how about we make some fun art for mommy instead?" he placed all the markers and glitter down knowing she would just scribble all over and make a mess, which he would have to clean up before you came back later.

Picking up whichever colour caught her attention first, Taesan opened the lid for her showing her what to do for her to mimic his actions and she was quick to follow along.

Unbeknownst to him, when Taesan had left the room to answer his ringing phone he had left in the living room, the glitter was left unattended and open for butterfly to have her own little fun.

Tipping the bottle over, the pink glitter spills onto the playmat and she reaches for some glitter as it sticks all over her hands. Her next mistake being she reached for her face leaving remnants of it all over her and her clothes in an attempt to get the weird substance off her hands.

Making his way back into the room, Taesan gasps in horror at the scene in front of him, rushing to his daughter he grabs the wet wipes trying to wipe off whatever he could, some of it still being stubborn on her.

Continuing their little arts and crafts, the man only surrenders to his daughter as she uses the washable markers to draw all over his arm, the paper long forget on the side which she should've been using.

Taesan was evidently whipped for you, without a doubt, but his daughter truly had his entire heart and he would give her anything and everything... even if it meant being used as her little art canvas for a few minutes to keep her entertained.

Yawning himself, he looks at the clock on the wall which read 1:45pm, which was well past butterfly's bed time and she too seemed to be growing tired.

"Time to pack these away butterfly and I'll read you a story to sleep." he gently says as he slowly packs everything back into it's place and grabbing Little Red Riding Hood to read to her.

He picks her up chuckling at how messing her hair had become over the course of her fussing and playing with some glitter still prominent on her cheeks.

Laying down on the playmat himself, he lays his daughter on his chest as he opens the storybook onto the first page.

Beginning to read to her as he interchanges her one hand to hold the book up as the other goes back and forth between stroking her back softly and flipping the pages of the book.

As he nears the end of the story, he hears soft snores and feels her light breathing notifying him she had successfully fell asleep.

Closing the book beside him, he notices the left mess of glitter from before sighing in exhaustion.

"I'll clean that up after a short nap with butterfly." he mumbles to himself as his own tiredness catches up with him closing his eyes letting the sleep take over.

You step into the house kicking your shoes off as a sigh of relief escapes past your lips letting your toes finally breathe after hours of working in those mildly shoes.

Having expected to walk into either the smell of something burning in the kitchen or at least be greeted by your loving husband and daughter, you’re instead met with complete silence.

“My babies~ I’m back home. Please tell me you’re both still alive.” you speak out into the open, cackling softly at your own joke, only to get no response in return.

Making your way around the house quietly, you go into your daughter’s room and find a scene you were least expecting to see.

On the floor, both your favourite people were fast asleep cuddling each other.

Taesan snores softly with butterfly on his chest sound asleep, light snores matching her father’s, her hair wild and unkept and glitter all over the two of them and the floor beside them.

Quietly tiptoeing towards the two, you kneel down placing a light blanket on top of them to keep them warm before adding soft pecks onto both of their foreheads.

Your hand gently brushes the loose strands of hair to the side covering your husband’s face, you look down and notice the scribble marks all over his arm and a small smile grows over your face only imagining what these two had gotten up to while you were away.

In most instances you wouldn’t be happy at the sight of the mess in front of you, but your heart couldn’t help but melt instead seemingly content at the turnout of your perfect little family.

You truly couldn’t ask for anything more.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Two

All it took was a play date for Daniel Ricciarod to fall in love. His daughter playing with her son while he fell deeper and deeper.

Single Dad Daniel x Single Mum Reader

Chapter One

Olivia Ricciardo had hoped her father would be home in time to take her to daycare. But her grandparents comforted her as they drove her. With that attitude every five year old had, Olivia climbed out of the car and walked into daycare, without talking to anybody.

The first person she spoke to that day was Milo. She was clearly in a bad mood, but he gave it time, waited for her to cheer up. Maybe she was tired; Milo knew he was always grumpy when he was tired.

But Olivia wasn’t getting any happier. So, Milo got up from the floor and went to talk to the teacher.

As she watched him walk away, Olivia looked ready to cry again. Her bestest friend (of a whole week) walked away, leaving her on her own. Olivia shed a single tear, but the other children were watching, so she sucked it up.

But then Milo returned, dinosaur teddy bear in hands. He clutched it tight as he walked back over to Olivia and sat on the floor beside her. "This is Rexy," he said as Olivia hesitantly reached for it. "He's my favourite teddy in the whole wide world but you're sad so you can have him for today, but only for today okay?" He said quickly as Olivia squeezed the plush toy.

"Thank you," she said quietly and squeezed Rexy tighter.

Olivia didn't let go of the bear for the rest of the day. As she and Milo played with toys of chased each other around the yard, she always had Rexy.

That was exactly why Milo brought Rexy to daycare. Because, when he was having a tough day, nothing made him happier than having Rexy there.

At the end of the day Olivia handed Rexy back. Milo packed him into his bag and, together, the children walked out of daycare, heading to where the parents gathered. Olivia had no hopes of her daddy being there, waiting to pick her up and drive her home.

She still scanned the faces of all of the parents, and didn't see her own. "C'mon," said Milo, taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her towards his mummy, who was waiting by the gate.

As he walked over, his mother crouched down, pulling her into her arms. "And who have we got here, munchkin?" She asked him, taking his dinosaur backpack and swinging it over her shoulder.

"Momma, this is Olivia," Milo said.

Immediately Y/N noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hello, Olivia," Y/N said in a kind voice. "Milo has told me all about you," she said, trying to give the girl a reassuring smile.

Olivia levelled her a look. "Did Milo tell you about my famous race car driver daddy?"

"He did," Y/N replied, trying to stifle the small laugh she had at the little girls determination. "Well, is he or you mummy anywhere around here?" Y/N asked as she held Milo's hand in her own.

Crossing her arms, Olivia looked around the car park for her grandparents. Or their car. But it wasn't there. They weren't there. For the millionth time that day, Olivia wanted to cry.

But then she saw the 2006 Toyota Hilux.

And there he was, striding towards her in am AlphaTauri hat and sunglasses. "DADDY!" Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs and went running towards the man. He wasted no time in scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hey, badger," he said, walking her towards where she had come from to thank the parent that was keeping an eye on his little girl.

Daniel walked over to a young woman, who looked as tired as he felt, holding the hand of a little boy. "That's Milo, daddy," she said into his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

But she was walking away. "C'mon Milo," she said and tried to pull the five year old away.

Milo pulled away from his mother. "But Momma! That Olivia’s race car dad!" He insisted.

Trying to hide a sigh, Y/N picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. Milo had been wanting to invite Olivia over for a playdate for the last week, but had insisted his Momma wait until Olivia’s grandparents or dad were back, instead of her mum.

And now that Olivia’s dad was here, Milo was gonna get that playdate.

"Are you Olivia’s dad?" Y/N guessed as she approached.

Wearing his typically charming smile, Daniel held Olivia with one hand and held the other out towards Milo's mother (who couldn't do the same with her son in his arms). "Yeah I'm Olivia’s dad, Daniel."

"I'm Milo's mum," said Y/N as she nodded towards him. "Milo would like to know if Olivia would like to come to our house for a playdate," she offered.

Daniel let his smile falter. He loved that Olivia had made a friend, that somebody wanted to invite her for a playdate, but there was always doubt at the back of his mind. What if they were using her to get to him? It was incredibly sad that he had to think like that, but, with the life he had, he had to think like that.

“Can I, daddy?” Asked Olivia as she grinned. “Pleeeeaaaase!”

Daniel looked back at Milo’s mother. She was pretty, and she looked honest. But you couldn't tell what somebody was all about just from their face. "Do you mind if I come with her?" He asked. Milo might be been Olivia's friend, but his mum was still a stranger, and Daniel just wanted to make sure his badger was safe.

"Of course," said Milo's mother. "Say, this Friday after daycare?" She asked.

It wasn't a race weekend, so Daniel nodded his head. "Great," she said, adjusting Milo in her arms. "I'm Y/N, by the way," she finished.

The two said a quick goodbye, with the kids waving enthusiastically to each other as they went. Even as Milo got into his booster seat in the back of Y/N's Peugeot. Y/N offered Daniel one last smile as she put Milo's bag in the back and climbed into the driver's seat.

Daniel watched as Y/N pulled out of the daycare car park and made his own way out, driving Olivia home. "Are you excited for your playdate with Milo, Badger?" He asked as he looked into the rear view mirror.

Olivia was bouncing in her seat, cheeks red from smiling. "Yeah!" She shouted. But, mostly, Olivia was just happy to have her father home.

***

It was a Wednesday when Y/N met Daniel. The playdate was scheduled for two days time, so she immediately set about cleaning when she walked through the door.

If it was just Olivia coming for the playdate, she wouldn't have been cleaning so obsessively. Still cleaning, just not this obsessively. But, now that Daniel was coming too, she wanted the house to be perfect.

With a house the size of theirs, it didn't take long to clean. She had Milo cleaning up his toys in the living room while she dusted the surfaces downstairs. "But Momma," Milo protested as he picked up a tray of lego. "'Livia and I are just gonna get my toys out again."

"Please, Munchkin," she said as she crouched down to gather up more of his toys. "I want Olivia and her daddy to see how nice our house is." She opened her arms and Milo collapsed into them, quietly muttering an 'okay momma'.

Y/N cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. She cleaned the two rooms that made up the downstairs and the bedrooms upstairs. She put Milo's shoes away in the cupboard and made sure the kitchen was clean, wiped the muddy cat paw prints from the wood of the stairs.

While Milo watched television, she cleaned his room, making sure it was perfect for when Daniel and Olivia came over.

"Momma, Olivias dad is gonna like our house," he said as she straightened up the rug in the living room. "Olivia said he's really nice."

"I'm sure he is, Munchkin. Momma just wants the house to be nice and clean, okay?"

"Okay Momma," Milo answered and went back to watching the television.

Taglist: @freyathehuntress

[what-the-phoenix]

Roman Campers: We almost never see our parents Greek Demigods: Our parents talk to us or see us maybe a couple times of year, unless your special. Apollo's kids: Our dad visits a lot, he knows our names and gives us gifts and is actually a pretty decent dad nowadays. Dionysus kids: *Summer camp is both a break from the mortal world but also their fathers shared custody time, gets claimed by him pointing and calling 'mine', forced to have family meals (though at a distance) every day, has to get him a fathers day gift thats not a burnt offering otherwise he gets cranky, when asked by new campers who their godly parent is, have to explain that he is the grumpy camp director who got their name wrong earlier.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Grumpy Toto Wolff with wife sunshine!reader. Feat their son, grumpy!Jack. Thank you!!

Everyone knew the Wolff family around the paddock with Toto being the intimidating Team principal of Mercedes and you being the sunshine of the paddock known for your kindness and radiant smiles. Wherever you went Toto and Jack, your son, seemed to follow you like your shadow.

Today it was an ordinary day in the paddock, as you left the car two hands took yours, Toto being on your left and Jack on your right, this continued until Toto had to leave to talk to some investors not before giving you a goodbye kiss to you and Jack. As you continued your walk around the paddock drivers, mechanics and other workers stopped to say hi, each one annoying Jack more and more, it wasn't until Daniel approached you that Jack had enough, he knew that you and him were a dangerous combination that could spend hours talking and laughing. "Mom, I'm tired I want to go to see Dad" Jack said as he pulled you away. "Sure let's go, it was really nice seeing you Daniel," you said waving him goodbye as Jack pulled you away.

Jack led you back to the motorhome, his grip firm. Inside, the atmosphere relaxed, with Toto and Jack both visibly more at ease now that you were within their watchful gaze. Toto tried to focus on his work, but his attention often drifted towards you, ensuring you were always within sight. Jack, too, played nearby, occasionally glancing your way.

You left their watchful gaze because you had gone to the bathroom, however, your brief absence stretched into a worrying length of time. Panic flickered in Toto’s eyes, and Jack’s expression mirrored his father's concern. They scoured the motorhome, calling your name, their worry mounting with each unanswered call.

Then, a familiar sound broke the tension—a burst of your laughter, bright and unmistakable. Toto and Jack followed the sound, rounding the corner to the back of the motorhome. There, they found you sprawled on the ground, Roscoe, Lewis Hamilton's bulldog, enthusiastically licking your face. You giggled uncontrollably, trying in vain to fend off the affectionate dog. "Roscoe, please stop licking me," you managed between giggles, your attempts to dislodge the hefty bulldog proving futile.

"Lewis can you remove your dog from my wife" Toto said trying to not sound angry at Lewis, he could never blame you, you were just too innocent and couldn't phantom all the possible possibilities that could happen, that's why you needed them.

"Roscoe, come on, mate," Lewis called out, giving a light-hearted laugh as he approached. Roscoe finally relented, hopping off you with an enthusiastic wag of his tail. Lewis reached down to offer you a hand, pulling you up gently as Toto and Jack watched closely, their expressions a mix of relief and restrained annoyance.

"You okay?" Lewis asked, his tone warm and friendly.

"Yes, thank you, Lewis," you said, dusting yourself off with a bright smile. "Roscoe just couldn't resist, could he?"

Lewis chuckled, "He's got good taste."

Toto's jaw tightened slightly at the comment, but he quickly masked it with a tight smile. "Yes, well, we should be getting back. Lots to do before the race." He wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders, steering you back towards the motorhome. Jack, sensing the tension, clung to your other side, holding your hand tightly.

As you made your way back, Toto kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure Lewis was out of earshot. "I think it's best if we stay inside for a while. Don't want to get caught up in any more distractions."

You nodded, oblivious to the underlying tension. "Of course, Toto. Whatever you think is best."

Inside the motorhome, Toto finally relaxed, his grip on you loosening but still firm. Jack settled in beside you, visibly more content now that you were back in their safe, controlled environment.

"Mom, can we play a game?" Jack asked, his earlier irritation replaced with a hopeful expression.

"Of course, Jack! What do you want to play?" you replied, ruffling his hair affectionately.

As Jack fetched a board game, Toto watched you closely, his gaze softening. "You know, you really should be more careful. The paddock can be a bit overwhelming."

"I know, Toto," you said with a gentle smile. "But it's also full of wonderful people. Like Lewis and Roscoe."

Toto's eyes darkened slightly at the mention of Lewis, but he quickly recovered. "Yes, well, just remember that Jack and I are always here to keep you safe."

You nodded, your smile never wavering. "I know. I’m so lucky to have both of you."

Jack returned with the game, and soon the motorhome was filled with laughter and the friendly banter of a family enjoying each other's company. For a moment, all the underlying tensions and unspoken worries faded away, replaced by the simple joy of being together.

As the day wore on, Toto and Jack remained ever watchful, their protectiveness never wavering. They knew you saw the world through rose-coloured glasses, but they were determined to keep those glasses from shattering, no matter what.

[januaryembrs]

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE | Marc Spector x reader

Request: @happyhauntt says - okay i am BEGGING for a fic based on the song 'forest fire' by brighton (be warned that shit HURTS) but i fully cannot decide between poe dameron, steven/marc or spencer reid so i am giving you full creative direction and i look forward to getting my heart ripped out!!

Description: Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

length: 3.9k

Warnings: Heavy warnings for childhood / domestic abuse/neglect (both from Marc and also reader has a neglectful father) warnings for alcohol, the cave scene, drowning, death etc. you asked for angst, so I served!

authors note: sorry this took so damn long, today isn't even my day off and I have been too exhausted to even look at my computer, but I hope you like it!

Before Randall was too little to be part of his adventures, Marc used to play on his own in the yard. 

Usually that entailed kicking a football at the wooden fence that lined their garden, trying to knock it off his chest when it would come bouncing back the way he’d seen the professionals do it, even if it had led to three milk teeth coming loose already. 

But there weren’t kids on his street to play with, at least that’s what he thought until the one day he kicked his ball a little too high and watched it fly right over the top of the fence, bouncing into the neighbour's yard, a soft “ouch” meeting his ears. 

In minutes, a little head appeared over the wall, beady eyes frowning down at him, and he realised it was a girl around his age, maybe a little younger. 

“Did you lose this?” She held up his soccer ball he was worried he was going to have to kiss goodbye to forever, the small digits of her other hand holding onto the fence tightly. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick it so high,” Marc said, and with no more explanation than that, she threw it over to his side of the partition, and her tiny head disappeared back below the fence line. 

He felt stunned. He knew there were moving boxes over that way a couple weeks ago, but as far as he could see there was only a man living there on his own, a scowl on his face most days. Marc had seen him shouting at the other kids on his block to stop riding their bikes in front of his house because it ‘upset the dog’, though Marc had yet to see for himself this canine friend he was speaking about. 

But there was a girl living there! A real life girl who spoke to him; granted he had lobbed a heavy soccer ball at her, from what her distaste told him, and he wondered if perhaps, despite the grumpy look on her face he realised mirrored the man he’d seen living there, that she might like to even make friends with her neighbour. 

“Wait!” He yelled, running up to the fence where she had slipped away from him, grabbing on to the top and pulling himself up to the point he was on his very tippy toes and he could only just about see her yard. 

The grass was unkempt, which was odd because Marc’s own dad cut the grass every fortnight, and there were planks of wood with nails sticking out of them strewn across the side of the shed she had used to pull herself up with. He fought the urge to cringe in disgust, because there, looking up at him from where she was making a daisy chain in the long, dry grass, alone in a pink plaid shorts and a white, dirt stained top, was the girl. 

“Do you want to play?” Marc asked, his foot nearly slipping under him where he was trying to rest it on the wood to take a closer look, “I have tennis, or swing ball we could play?” 

She looked interested at the mop of curly, black hair for a moment, before she looked back at the house that he had still yet to see any sign of a dog. 

“I’m not sure my dad would like it…” She said cautiously, almost whispering to him, picking the soil under her nails. 

“My mom could come around and get you, she could talk to him,” He offered, because this was when his mother was still mom and not Wendy. 

Before she had yet to flip his world entirely upside down with her cruel hands and vicious tongue. Before Steven. 

She seemed unsure, biting her bottom lip and stroking her arms like she was giving herself a cuddle. But she nodded, looking up at him, and he tried to hide just how excited he was to finally have someone to play with. 

“I’m Marc,” He said, grinning at her, his tongue poking between the space where his adult teeth were only just growing back in. 

She told him her name back, and it was the first time he understood what a crush was. 

–

“Marc, I’m not sure we should be doing this,” She said, grabbing his hand so tight he thought his heart might explode. 

“It’s okay, we come here all the time, don’t we, RoRo?” He reassured, looking back to where Randall, now a few years older and big enough to play with them, held onto the side of the cave, his own face nervous. 

“All the time!” The little boy echoed, because Marc knew he had a bit of a thing for her as well, because she was older and cool and smelled like a field of flowers and he hated seeming like he was scared, even though he was. 

He was just a kid. 

They were just kids. 

And being kids, they stumbled into danger without realising it, not even when the rain started coming down outside torrentially and they had to pause their game of pirates to run for cover. They hadn’t expected, in their childish excitement to continue the adventure, that the water would start pooling into the cave; that it would fill up like a basin, whether they were in there or not, and it wasn’t until the screaming started that they realised they were in the kind of danger that required an adult. 

Marc was the first one to get out, his hair soaked, his heart racing, and he used a grown up word he heard his dad use sometimes because he could have sworn they were both right behind him. 

And if that had been true, then where were they? 

He called her name, debated going back in there himself to see where they had gone, then he yelled for RoRo, because she didn’t seem to be answering. 

And there was only silence, except a clap of thunder overhead that said the rain was going to get worse; was not going to stop for hours. 

Which was when he ran to get his dad. 

By the time Elias got there, his glasses wet and steamed, his thick thatch of curls too similar to Marc’s soaked through, all he could see was a head of hair peeking out of the mouth of the cave, and his heart sank. 

He dragged her out of the dark water, arms under her shoulders as he rolled her on her front and started patting her back, trying to get her to spit some of the water out, because her face was ice and her skin was soaked and her playsuit was ripped from where she’d snagged it on the rocks. 

Marc remembered crying into his hands, gaze flicking back to the cave to see if RoRo was right behind her, if he was just waiting to be pulled out as she had been. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but rain water and moss and those damn rocks he’d been gripping onto not an hour earlier. 

His heart leapt when she spluttered finally, after his dad had thrown her over his knee and taken to giving her a one handed heimlich right between her shoulder blades. She spat the water out, her body shivering immediately, eyes bleary as they looked around as if she expected to still be in that dark hole in the wall, and Elias set her down on the grass to go look for his youngest son. 

“Stay with her, Marc,” He barked, uncharacteristically sharp for him though Marc guessed it was fear, and took off towards the cave again. Marc pulled her into his arms, and it was only then they started wailing together. 

They sat there for an hour when the rescue team finally arrived, a medical team with warm hands and even warmer blankets ushering them to the safety of the back of an ambulance, and the last thing Marc remembered for that horrible day was sitting on the stretcher with her pressed against his side, trembling under the reflective wrap they’d been tucked in that made them look like baked potatoes, wishing he had never suggested they go in that damn cave. 

–

“You’re leaving?” She said, her lip quivering, her eyes lined with tears. They sat on his bed, his duffel bag already packed, his acceptance letter burning daggers into his head from his nightstand, “Military? Marc, just think about this for a minute-”

“I have thought about it. I’m not some dumb kid making rash decisions, I want this,” Except he didn’t, not really. What he meant to say was he wanted to leave, to run away and never come back, but the idea of never seeing her again was too difficult to think about. 

She thought about it for a moment, and he held her hand when he saw her face really start to crumble then. “If you go, I’ll have no one left. You’re all I have,”

He didn’t hide the fact he saw how nervous she was when Marc would pick her up from her house and her father would see her out the door, a nasty, inebriated glare in his eyes at the Specter boy. He saw all the times she would tiptoe around the floorboards, the way he knew too well, as if she was scared of what would happen if she took up too much space, made too much noise. Or when his mother had been kind, way back before any of this had happened, and had fussed over her pretty hair, had piled food on her plate because Wendy said she needed the goodness, she had locked up entirely and looked at his mother as if she was an alien. 

Even now, when they were both seventeen, nearly adults in the grand scheme of things, he knew her father was cruel. 

“I’m sorry,” He said honestly, and he felt his own throat clogging up with real emotion he only ever let himself show when he was with her, “When I get a place of my own, I’ll come back here, and we can pack your bags together, and we can live far away from all of this,” 

And it sounded like he was spinning her a fantasy; which he was. She felt like an idiot for believing him, for flashing him a small smile and leaning her forehead to his which was the closest they ever got to admitting how they really felt about each other. 

He wanted to kiss her then, before he left to start his new life, one where they could be happy together, and he made a promise to himself that when he came back for her that would be the first thing he would do. 

He could see it now; he would be in some kind of flashy car with the top rolled down, a man grown from the regime and fitness they would teach him in the army and she would come running to him like an angel parting the clouds, like a dream that was finally within reach, and he would kiss her then, so hard it would make up for the time they had lost, the time they had grieved together, it might even make up for that day she nearly died because of him. 

So he left her, that fantasy of coming back to her keeping him going in the months of training, during roll call and exams and the small, clinical portions they would serve him in the military. 

But that day never came. Somewhere between losing himself to the alter that had formed and led a full life separately to his, between hiding Steven from the ugly truth and becoming a mercenary after dropping from the army, he tucked the dream away as a what if, and he didn’t return back to that house where his mother had caused so much hell. 

Not until the second day of her shiva, that was. 

-

“Marc?” He forgot how sweet his name sounded from her lips, and he hated to admit it in the middle of his drunken state, but he’d wished he’d never heard it again in his entire life. 

Because the second his front door opened, and a woman in a long black dress, heels and lace gloves stared back at him with a face that looked similar to a girl he once knew, only a notch between her brows that said she had done nothing but frown for twenty years, he wished he had never seen her again. 

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he ever gave her credit for, yet she looked tired. Sunken. Like she had wept and screamed alongside all the frowning. 

“Marc,” She said it more determined this time, pacing down the stairs to his home, her footsteps rushed and worried, “Are you okay?,” 

He knew he must look like a mess. He hadn’t stopped crying for three days since he got the first phone call from his father in almost two decades, since he’d learned his mother had passed, and he was already a bottle of whiskey deep by the time he’d stepped out the cab onto the street he grew up on. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought she would be there. He guessed she would be far away from this place, just like he had been, in a mansion with a 401k and a dog and a neurosurgeon for a husband. She had always deserved it. 

But here she was, grabbing the bottle out of his hand gently, rubbing a hand over his shoulder like not a day had gone by that they hadn’t seen one another, and it didn’t take him much convincing at all to pull her into a hug he had needed since the day he left. 

“My mum’s dead,” Marc said, sounding like a little boy again when he wept into her neck, squeezing her body to his, and he felt her rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I know, Marc, I’m so sorry,” She hummed, and she smelled like a fancy floral perfume he couldn’t afford to give her before, “I know you must be feeling complicated,”

He nodded, because he couldn’t have put it better himself. He felt complicated. 

“I missed you,” She said, like it was a confession, and he cried harder, his face burying into the crook of her shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” 

“How’s Steven? Is he still around?” She asked, pulling him away to root through her pocket for the pack of tissues she’d kept handy for the day. He took a deep breath, rubbing his sleeved arm over his face to dry it even the slightest. He could feel his cheeks sopping wet from where he had sobbed in the back of the cab like a madman all the way here. 

But she was still fussing over him, and she looked just as pretty as he had remembered her, sitting on his bed that day, if not only a little more tired under her eyes.

Ofcourse she had known about Steven. How else was he supposed to explain the times they would be playing boyfriend-girlfriend together and he would become a different person. 

Sometimes Steven would remember her too, because it didn’t matter to her who he was, she was his best friend either way. He remembered a girl who smelled like summer, sitting on the swings and eating ice lollies together, taking it in turns to push each other, blue tongued and happy. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replied quietly, as she handed him the tissues, “He misses you, too,” 

She smiled at him with her lips pressed tightly.

“I take it you’re not coming in?” She said in a careful tone, and he shook his head quickly. 

“No- I just can’t,” He said, tears welling up in his eyes in seconds, and she wrapped him in another hug immediately, soothing his hurt as fast as it had bubbled back up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” She hummed, stroking down his back gently, and he hugged her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him together. 

He opened his mouth to speak when his front door opened again, and he worried for a second that it was Elias. 

Instead, he saw a girl no older than five emerge in a cute, poofy dress that met her knees, her hair tucked into a neat braid, lace gloves matching her own as she lingered at the doorway. 

And perhaps the thing that struck him the quickest; she was the damn near double of the girl he’d hit in the head with his soccer ball in that very yard. 

“Mommy,” The girl said in a gentle coo, her eyes empathetic as she met his gaze, more empathetic than he knew children could feel. But, he supposed, if she was her daughter then it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

His best friend turned, her face smoothing out into something peaceful when she saw her little girl, and he knew then she was born to be a mother. Nothing like his own, nothing like Wendy, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. 

She was a mother. 

“Yes, baby?” She said, half stepping towards her child as the girl stumbled down the first step towards them, and she was quick to swoop her into her grasp and onto her hip. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” The girl said shyly, peeking a glance at him over her mum’s shoulder, and she waved at him with tiny fingers. 

He waved back, even if the sight of her had dumped a bucket of cold water all over his body. 

“Alright, baby. Just wait in the foyer, I’ll come take you in just a second, I’m just speaking to my friend right now,” She said, stroking over the back of the girl’s hair softly, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, and her mum kissed her once more, plopping her back on the top step to direct her back into the house. And they were alone again. 

She looked at him guiltily, stepping back towards him as she fiddled with her sleeves nervously, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get childcare and I don’t really know anyone in state anymore-”

“No, it-it’s fine,” He stammered, feeling her watching him for his reaction carefully, “What’s her name?” 

“Dalilah,” She replied, rubbing hands up her arms to calm herself. 

“Where’s her dad?” Marc asked, hoping he didn’t sound bitter, but the whiskey made it sound like a bite. 

She shrugged, “He wanted the cars and the house when we split; I wanted her,” She said calmly, like it wasn’t one bomb after another to be dropped on him. 

He knew nothing about her life. He had tried to run away from that promise he’d made her for twenty years, because he knew he would never be good enough for her; that he could never give her the happiness she deserved, even before he had become the Moon Knight. 

At his core, he would rot her, ruin her. He would destroy her.

And yet hearing it was just the two of them alone, he felt like he could take out the piece of shit who ran out on them barehanded and go home to sleep next to her soundly.  

He felt like perhaps, as much grief and anguish as returning back to that house had caused him, perhaps this was his second chance. His chance to be what she needed, to be something good.

He would be so good to them. He would give them everything if she asked. 

“I’m not really in town much, especially with my dad still around,” She said, gesturing to where her yard still stood, full of junk and a dog that had supposedly been kicking strong for two decades, “But I would love to see you again. Lila has school most days so you’re free to come over any day of the week if you want it to be just us; I work at home,” She scribbled an address about two hours away down on a piece of paper, along with her phone number, handing it to his distraught face with a sad smile, somewhat hopeful he would take the olive branch she was shaking his way. 

He took it with a nod, his bottom lip still trembling before he bit it hard enough to force it to stop. He would love to see her, if he would even allow himself something good. If he would just let go of the resentment for everything that reminded him of that time, he could see the two of them healing one another slowly, but surely. 

She could fix him. And he could fix her. The way it had always been with them. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Marc said softly, allowing her to grab him tightly one more time, “I really did miss you,” 

She laughed, not properly more like a sad breath out, squeezing him to her, “I loved you so much. I never let you go, you know that?” 

He tried not to sob, almost holding her so maddeningly hard she couldn’t ever leave. 

But he had to let go eventually, and he watched her walk back up the stairs to where his family mourned, her face glinting with something hopeful, holding a flashlight out to him where he was walking around in the dark blindly.

He tried to smile back, though he knew it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn't be truly untouched by the grief he wallowed in. 

And by the time he got back to his hotel room, alone, even more drunk, Khonshu had another job for him that would whisk him away for two weeks. But he kept her number, the piece of paper gripped in his hand tight, like he was determined to keep his promise this time around.

He dialled her number exactly fifteen days later, his body aching, his nose bloodied, but something lighter in his chest at the prospect of seeing her again. The light in his dark, the girl on the swings he’d once pretended to marry during their game of house (the rings had been tiny daisy chains she’d woven together just that morning, their officiant was Randall who could barely ride a bike let alone remember the vows he was supposed to say.) 

Only when the phone got put through, a different woman answered, and the light flickered back out into something cold and dark and vengeful. 

“Oh, oh god, you haven’t heard?” He swallowed thickly, “She was hit by a drunk driver last week picking Lila up from school,” The woman, her cousin, explained, her voice teary and solemn, and he didn’t doubt she’d had to make a thousand of these calls the past few days, “They said it was quick, and Lila went fast so she wasn’t in any pain- and she was only in the ambulance for ten minutes before her heart stopped so she wasn’t hurting long either-” 

But he put the phone down, his eyes wide, his body numb, his chest empty and lonely. 

Because the very last bit of good in him was gone; because everything he touched was cursed and tainted from the offset. 

It took what felt like twenty cups of whiskey for him to black out that night, he knew sleep would evade him, he knew not to even bother trying. And Jake Lockely woke up for him, something mean and hateful in the black of his eyes. 

He didn’t care who, but someone was going to pay for his cielo being taken from them. 

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Young, dumb in love

Theseus Scamander X Wizard!Reader

Summary: Theseus and Y/n had always been in love with the other. Now that an extraordinary event occurs, it will bring them closer

Warning: Pregnancy/ Mention of birth/ inaccuracies (powers, medical)/ use of Y/n/ not really following the movie timeline

Word count: 1.5k

Y/n and Theseus met because of Newt. All 3 of them were in Hufflepuff and Y/n didn’t have any friends. Newt sat next to her one day and they became friends, then, she met Newt’s older brother, Theseus. She was instantly attracted to him, and it was the same for him, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Years went by and they were both 20. After a one-night stand, Y/n started to feel nauseous, she feared that the protection they wore, didn’t do its job. So, when the test came back positive, it was time to break the news to Theseus.

‘’You might want to sit down’’ Y/n warned the man. ‘’What are you going to tell me? You’re not pregnant, are you?’’ he joked. Y/n’s heart sank, she became pale. ‘’Well, yes, I am Theseus, I did 4 tests, they all came back positive’’ she nervously said. Theseus immediately felt bad from what he just said. He was happy, he was going to be a dad, having a family of his own as always been his dream. ‘’Oh my! Y/n that’s an amazing news! I can’t wait to tell Newt!’’ He smiles. Y/n breath out in relief, her eyes fill with tears, happy tears. ‘’So, you’re happy?’’ she asked. ‘’Yes, it’s wonderful!’’ he exclaimed, hugging her.

‘’Thank you for inviting me over, it’s been a while since I’ve saw you. How are you, Y/n?’’ Newt says, sitting at the table. Y/n and Theseus didn’t have a game plan, they didn’t think about a way to announce it. ‘’I’m great, Newt, by the way, you’re going to be an uncle.’’ She blurted out. Newt dropped his fork as he looked at them. ‘’What?’’ he mumbled. ‘’I’m pregnant, Newt. And Theseus is the father’’ she smiled. ‘’Really?’’ he smiled. Theseus nodded and took Y/n’s hand. ‘’That’s amazing! Congratulations! I’m going to be an uncle!’’ he exclaimed, he looked really happy. ‘’That’s why the Qilin was so excited, he saw the baby’s soul’’ he murmurs. ‘’This early?’’ Y/n asked, putting a hand on her stomach. Newt nodded and smiled. Theseus smiled to his brother as they continued to talk about life.

Her stomach was starting to show, she was so happy. She was looking at herself in the mirror, smiling. ‘’Theseus! Come here!’’ she yelled. He ran upstairs, afraid something bad happened to her. ‘’Are you okay? Is the baby, okay? Do I need to call Newt?’’ he quickly said. Y/n laughed and shook her head. ‘’Look, I’m showing! Can you see it!’’ she lifted her shirt, exposing her small bump. Theseus calmed down and looked at her belly. ‘’Oh my, that’s amazing!’’ he dropped to his knees and put his hand on her stomach. ‘’Hello little one, I’m your father. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I can’t wait to meet you’’ he whispered. Y/n’s eyes filled with tears. ‘’You made me cry’’ she said, wiping her tears. He got up and hugged her, kissing her cheek in the process. They didn’t figure out what their relationship was, it pained them both. ‘’Y/n, what are we?’’ he whispered in her ear. ‘’I don’t know, but I know that I love you, more than a friend’’ she replied. They stopped hugging and sat on the bed. ‘’I want to be more than a friend to you, Y/n. I love you, you’re the mother of my child, that’s the most important thing. I want to be with you, if you’ll allow me to’’ he confessed. Y/n cried even more. ‘’I love you too, yes, I’ll allow it, silly’’ she laughed as they kissed.

‘’Why is the Qilin in our house?’’ Theseus asked his girlfriend and brother as he entered his home. Y/n turned around; her belly was getting bigger. 3 months left in her pregnancy, they recently discovered that she was carrying twins, a boy and a girl. Her belly was really big, but she was happy. Newt looked at his brother and smiled. ‘’He was grumpy, and the only thing that calms him down is seeing the twin’s soul.’’ Newt explained as Y/n petted the small animal. Theseus looked at Y/n shirt, it had a weird shape. ‘’Oh, the Niffler is in there, he wanted somewhere warm to sleep’’ she explained. Theseus swore under his breath and let out a sigh. ‘’Newt, I don’t want you creatures to roam around the house and risk hurting – ‘’ Y/n cut him off. ‘’Shush! They’re kicking!’’ she said, touching her belly. Theseus stopped his sentence and went near his girlfriend. ‘’Here’’ she took his hand and placed it where the baby kicked. He smiled to her when he felt it. ‘’That’s beautiful’’ he whispered. ‘’Newt, do you want to touch?’’ she asked. He nodded and put his hand on her stomach. They all looked at each other, smiling, tears in their eyes.

‘’For the last time, Thesus, it was a Braxton Hicks contraction. I’m okay’’ she said, rubbing her stomach. ‘’But if you go into labour and I’m not there!’’ he said. ‘’I will call you. I’m safe, Newt’s coming and the Qilin can sense the babies, I promise, go to work, get that promotion’’ she said. ‘’If there’s any change, even another Braxton Hicks, call me’’ he said. She nodded as he left his home, at the same time, Newt entered. ‘’I thought he’d never leave’’ Y/n chuckles. Pickett comes out of Newt’s pocket to jump on Y/n’s belly. ‘’Hello, you’’ she squeals. The creatures smile and jumps on her belly as a sign of joy. ‘’When’s your due date?’’ he asked, sitting on the couch. ‘’Yesterday, that’s why he’s so nervous’’ she says, smiling. The Qilin gets out of Newt’s case and sits next to her, resting his head on her belly. ‘’He’s always been nervous, but I get him’’ he says. ‘’Can you do me a favour? Can you go and make some raspberry leaf tea, Muggles say it helps the woman going into labour’’ she explains as Newt goes to make tea. She pets the Qilin as she waits for her boyfriend’s brother. She feels a pain in her stomach, so she takes deep breath to make them pass, but it doesn’t work. She doesn’t tell Newt, because she’s not sure if they’re real or not. The Qilin rise his head, looking at Y/n. His eyes talk: C’mon, tell him. Y/n shakes her head, Pickett squeaks. ‘’What are they trying to tell you?’’ Newt asks as he puts her cup down. ‘’They want me to tell you that I’m having contractions, but I’m not sure if they’re real or not’’ she confesses.

‘’I swear, you’re lucky I’m carrying two! Because I’m not doing this again” she moaned in pain. Theseus rubbed her back and tried to support her the best he could. She had been in labor for 13 hours without medication because it could be dangerous for the babies. ‘’You’re so strong, my darling, keep breathing, you got this’’ he praised her. Y/n felt pressure down there, like she needed to push. ‘’I need to push, like right now!’’ she announced. ‘’Go ahead, sweetie’’ the nurse called out. She pushed with all the energy she had left to try and get one of her babies out. ‘’You’re a warrior, come on give me another push like that and one of them is out’’ the nurse encouraged her. She pushed again. This time, the room was filled with cries, baby cries. Y/n let out a breath as she looked at her baby. ‘’It’s a boy’’ Their baby boy was born first, Y/n sobbed with joy. ‘’You did it, my love, our boy is here’’ Theseus calls out. ‘’Come on, Y/n, push again’’ the nurse calls out. ‘’Bollocks, I have to do it again’’ she groaned in pain. Theseus chuckled as he supported her again. 15 minutes later, Y/n was sitting with her girl in her arms, while Theseus was holding their boy. Newt came in the room, with Tina, Jacob, and Queenie following him. ‘’Congratulations!’’ Queenie squeals. Y/n smiles, she was exhausted and only wanted to sleep, but she wanted to be there for her guests. ‘’How did it go?’’ Tina asked, more calmly. ‘’It was so long, but I’m happy that they’re here’’ Y/n says. ‘’Do you want to know their names?’’ Theseus says, looking at the guests. ‘’That’s Emory Scamander’’ Y/n announces, smiling. ‘’And that’s Eugene Newton Scamander’’ at the sound of his name, Newt’s eyes fill with tears. ‘’You named him after me?’’ he softly asks. They both nod and smile. ‘’Oh’’ he softly reacts. ‘’Two E names, was it intentional?’’ Jacob laughs. ‘’Emory means strength and leadership and Eugene means noble’’ Y/n explains. ‘’You guys are such a beautiful family’’ Queenie says. Y/n and Theseus felt like it, a family. After all this time of loving each other, they now had children together. They were the happiest they’ve ever been.

[lady-djarin]

home

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: sickening fluff, established relationship, no outbreak, sarah’s alive and well, some touching and kissing between reader and joel, still adult content but no p in v. mdni

word count: 2.6k

a/n: not edited much (that’s my motto) but i just kinda dumped this out in one go so it could be bad. who knows.

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Dad!”

Ever since Sarah entered middle school she has become quite loud.

“Dad, there you are,” she barreled into the living room where you and Joel sat on the couch. “I need you to sign this.”

She pushes a piece of paper into his face along with a pen. He quints at it to read the small print. You grab it out of his hands when he tries to locate his glasses that are nowhere in sight.

“Oh the dance! How fun,” you handed it back to him and made sure he signed it as you shot Sarah a wink as she bounced happily on her toes.

You have been dating the single dad for around six months and you have grown quite close with Sarah. Joel has expressed how nervous he is about his baby girl getting older and all the things that come along with it. More than anything else he hates the idea of her dating. He signs the paper with his usual grumpy frown but does it nonetheless and in turn Sarah squeals and jumps up and down in excitement.

“Can you take me shopping tomorrow, I only have a week to shop for a dress,” Sarah put on her best puppy dog face that usually works on her father.

“I’m sorry angel I’ve got a job tomorrow,” he did look genuinely upset that he couldn’t spend the time with his daughter.

“I’ll take you, we can have a girls day,” you had been wanting to spend some one on one time with Sarah and this was the perfect opportunity.

“Oh my god, thank you!” She squealed again and jumped on you and wrapped you in a tight hug. She ran up the stairs talking mostly to herself about what kind of dress and makeup she was planning for her first dance.

“Thank you darlin’, you didn’t have to do that.” He rubbed your leg with his large warm hand and the other came up to hold your face as he kissed you tenderly.

“Oh please, I love that kid. Plus, I don’t think shopping is your forte,” you both laughed at how true that was.

Even though you’ve only been seeing Joel for a few months, you have never felt so at home. He and Sarah have welcomed you in like you were always meant to fit in their little family. You knew you were never one to have kids of your own but the young girl makes you feel more maternal than you ever have in your life.

~

You and Sarah spend the day in the mall finding stores to invade and try on every dress possible. She finally settled on a beautiful deep purple shimmery one that made her look way older than she needed to, but it was appropriate. Afterwards you found the food court and dug into some pizza and garlic knots.

“So… since your dad will never bring this up… are you going with anyone to the dance? Like maybe a boy? or girl, I don't judge.”

You knew she probably didn’t want to talk about it as pre-teens never do but you wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Her cheeks blushed a deep shade of crimson but she giggled slightly, telling you there was someone.

“I mean… I’m not going with anyone but my friends but…”

She was avoiding telling you the truth, maybe because she thought you’d rat her out to her dad.

“Look Sarah… I'm not asking to be a snitch, I just want to make sure you’re being safe and smart, that's all.”

She looked up at you with shyness but trust in her deep brown eyes.

“There is this boy… Ben,” she had the most radiant smile on her face telling you about her crush. He’s a little older than her but in the same grade and apparently very sweet and has blue eyes and dark blonde hair. You can imagine her sitting in class staring at him instead of listening to the teacher.

“So, are you going to meet him at the dance?”

“I mean we haven’t made plans but… I told him I’d see him there, and he followed me on instagram!”

It all reminded you of the days before adult pressure and complicated feelings. You smiled as she continued to tell you about him and the things she found endearing.

“Ok now, I have to ask and be the annoying adult but have you, you know… done anything with boys before?”

While she was only just under thirteen you still had to make sure, kids do anything these days.

“Like what?” She gave you a scrunched confused face then slowly realized what you were asking. “Like kissing?! Oh no that’s gross, boys smell anyway…,” she seemed to maintain her innocence for a while longer.

Thank god.

“Well that’s fair, but just remember, if a boy ever tries to do anything you don’t like, you can always say no. Don’t ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She looked a little confused at your instruction but nodded anyway. She’s a very smart kid and strong willed, you have full faith in her.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the mall and you both finally decided to end up getting your nails done.

~

Joel came home to find you both cooking dinner, a hoard of shopping bags littered the house.

“There’s my girls,” he ruffled his daughter's hair and covered her eyes jokingly as he kissed you deeply. “How was shopping? Successful it seems like.”

“Very…,” Joel’s eyes kept flicking down to your lips, as they often did when he got home from work.

“Dad, look! We got our nails done!” She splayed her fingers out so he could inspect her manicure. You let her get some slightly ‘grownup’ nails, small extensions with french tips. She said she’ll be the talk of the dance.

“Oh look at that… my little girl is all grown up…,” he looked a little queasy and you both laughed at his reluctance to let her grow up.

“Sarah, why don’t you put these bags away and I'll finish dinner, ok?”

She hugged you tight around your middle and mumbled about a million ‘thank you’s into the fabric of your shirt before grabbing her bags and darting up the stairs.

As soon as she disappeared Joel grabbed your hips as he stood behind you and pulled you into his hard chest. He attached his lips to your neck and ran his hands over your curves.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” His voice was low and gravely in your ear.

“Mmm, not today…”

He pulled you impossibly closer and nuzzled his mouth against your neck. “Well I do, I love you so damn much,” he continued kissing down your neck and any skin he could reach. “Sarah loves you too you know, she’s always talking about you…”

It felt like he wanted to talk about something else, something more. Your relationship has been going so well and it kind of feels like it’s time to take the next step. While you both know that this is it, there’s no one else for either of you, it might not be exactly time yet to tie the knot. However you have talked about sharing a space, the idea of living together is exciting to both of you.

“Well I love her, she’s a great kid, because you’re a great dad.” You turned in his arms and returned the kisses along his jaw. Just as you slid your hands into his back pockets, loud very teen sounding footsteps came racing down the stairs. You pulled away from each other but Sarah was too busy looking at her nails to notice. The timer on the oven beeped and as Joel and his daughter set the table you gathered the rest of dinner.

You sat around the table like you always did on Saturday nights and talked about the plans for the next week and the dance. You really did love your little found family.

~

The following Saturday you sat in Sarah’s room with her and a couple friends of hers, helping do their hair and makeup. Joel happened to have a poker game tonight with Tommy so he said bye just before the teen girl screaming got too loud. So here you were, a fully grown woman essentially playing dress up with a few 13 year olds. But you couldn’t be happier.

After the girls were ready and a lengthy photoshoot ensued, you were off. Four screaming voices all trying to harmonize to some pop song over the radio made your ears ring but seeing Sarah so happy made it worth it.

The plan was to pick her up around 10pm when it ended.

So you were super confused when you got a call from Sarah around 8:30pm.

“Hey girl, what’s going on? You ok?”

All you heard at first was a sniffle, then a deep breath before her wobbly voice came over the speaker. “N-no, not really…”

Your heart stopped for a second but you tried to stay calm.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to hide the urgency in your voice.

“Ben… he—“ hiccup “He was a… a total jerk!” Her voice was strained and scratchy like she had been crying for some time.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry… You know what, you stay in the office, ok? I'm going to come get you.”

She only mumbled a quiet ‘ok, bye’ before you slammed the phone down on the receiver and grabbed your keys. You shaved off probably five to ten whole minutes speeding through the streets to the school.

You quickly make your way to the office and find her with mascara running down her cheeks. She hiccuped and sniffled when she saw you before sluggishly standing and wrapping her arms around you. She sobbed slightly into your sweatshirt and you wrapped the one you brought her around her shoulders. After the teacher who waited with her waved you out, you gathered her into your car and made your way home.

But before reaching the familiar street you had an idea. Sarah had been slumped in her seat with the sweatshirt wrapped tight to her form until she saw the neon lights. You swore you saw her eyes light up when she saw the ‘Dairy Queen’ sign and it warmed your heart.

She got her usual birthday cake flavor of course, and you got your favorite. Before now you tried to let her have a few breathing moments but as you settled in the parking lot you tried to get some information from her.

“Are you ok?”

“Boys are so stupid…,” another tear slipped out of her eye.

“I know… I hate to say it but they don’t get much better.” You managed to get a laugh out of her which was an improvement. “What did Ben do?”

She spooned the thick ice cream into her mouth and tried to talk around it. “H-he was with that girl Rebecca all night and I tried to say ‘hi’ but he ignored me and pretended I wasn’t there. They were laughing at me…,” She resolved into sobs again and you rubbed her shoulder to try and comfort as best as you could.

“Oh god I’m sorry that’s so… shitty.” You never really cursed around her as she’s still young but this felt appropriate. It also helped draw out a laugh again, which made you both smile. “Look, boys like that are not worth your time. He’s playing games and you don’t want a boy who plays games. If anyone ever talks to you like that, it means they don’t respect you. You should only be friends, or more, with someone who respects you. Does that make sense?”

She looked at you with her red-rimmed and puffy eyes and you knew she got it. Of course she got it, she’s a smart kid.

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you… I'm sorry I freaked you out.” The light returned to her eyes as she giggled at her own words.

“You didn’t freak me out… too bad.” You were both laughing now, recalling the way you sped over to the school. “Look we can talk more if you want but I think you need some ‘you’ time tonight. Let’s get you some of my nice bath stuff and we can do a little spa night?”

“That sounds nice… thank you.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around your neck. On the way home you told her stories of things boys had done to you in the past. You did make sure to let her know that her dad was not one of them, he was the best kind of guy. Once you arrived home you gave her some bath stuff and gave her a clean towel and told her you’d wait downstairs for her.

You made some tea in the meantime and shortly after, Joel got home. Before he said anything he looked towards the stairs and heard the shower running. He gave you a quizzical look and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.

“So Sarah had me pick her up early…”

He already looked concerned.

“She’s fine… it was boy drama. We talked and she’s still upset but she’ll live.”

He breathed out a dramatic sigh and you welcomed him into your arms.

“This is what I was worried about,” he sounded so defeated.

“Joel, it’s bound to happen. Every girl gets her heart broken, it’s inevitable unfortunately.” You rubbed your palm over his stubble and looked over his tired features. “She’s smart and strong willed. Boys will be intimidated by her when she realizes it.”

He softened at that. “Thank you for helping her so much, she really has opened up since knowing you.”

“She’s really something, just like her dad. He’s not too shabby,” you giggled as he pinched your waist.

“I’m not too shabby? That’s sweet.”

You mirrored his smile as he boxed you between himself and the kitchen counter. He kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue between your lips, tasting every inch of you. Your hum reverberated through your chest into his and your skin lit on fire from the inside out. Desire instantly pooled in your lower stomach and you ground your hips into his. This only resulted in his hard, jean clad thigh slipping between yours and pushing against your clothed sex. You moaned into his mouth and just as you felt like you were going to lose it, Joel pulls away and then you hear descending footsteps.

Sarah reaches the bottom but doesn’t come down, “I’m going to go to bed, I’m really tired. Sorry dad.”

“That’s ok angel, you sleep good. Love you.”

“Love you guys,” then she’s gone.

“‘Love you guys’?” you look at Joel with surprise. “Did she just say she loves me?”

He just stares down at you with this tender look, unresponsive for a few moments.

“Move in with me.”

It wasn’t a question but a plea. Like he couldn’t imagine you’d say no. Because why would you?

“Really?” Your heart raced.

“Yes really, we both want you here. More than anything.”

“Of course, I’d love to!” You squealed like Sarah did earlier tonight and launched yourself at him. He caught you around the middle and pulled you up, sounding giddy as you did while he spun you around.

You spent the first night in your now full time shared bed after Joel showed you all the ways he truly, passionately loved you.

You knew you were finally home.

[runnning-outof-time]

The first of a few :)

Tommy- (3 word sentence prompt) “Happy or Sad?”

Thanks for sending this in Liz! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to writing it. This is a COMPLETE flip from the fic I shared earlier haha. Also I have to say that the bit at the end was inspired by the lovely Bri @there-goes-thefighter ‘s latest Tommy fic ‘Your Shadow Side’…it’s a bit different here, but the idea was stuck in the back of my mind nonetheless. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find other stories here!

Bedtime Stories

Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

Warnings: none

Word Count: 797

Summary: Tommy gets asked a question that leaves him speechless while he’s telling his daughter a bedtime story.

“I want daddy to tell me a story tonight!” Isabella Shelby exclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground as she looked up at her mother. Her little hands were balled up into fists, and the glare on her face was one that could even rival her father’s. Wonder who she got it from?

(Y/N) sighed and looked away from her four year old daughter, at her wits end now. It had been a long day. Isabella woke up in a grumpy mood, so everything had been a fight with her. On top of that, Matthew, her two year old son, had just figured out how to get into things, so she’d been following him around the house to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or break anything.

“Dad’s busy with his work at the moment, darling,” she tried to reason with the child.

Isabella did not listen. “I’m going to go ask him,” she insisted, turning on her heel then so that she could make her way down the hall to the door of her father’s office.

(Y/N) stayed in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she heard the muffled exchange between her husband and child. A look of surprise formed on her face when Isabella emerged triumphant from the office moments later with Tommy following behind her. She’s wrapped around his finger, (Y/N) thought to herself with soft laugh.

“Time for bed?” Tommy questioned as he approached (Y/N), chuckling at the fact that Isabella had walked right passed her without a word.

“It is,” (Y/N) responded with a nod, her eyes wide as she conveyed her exasperation to him. Tommy sent her a soft grin before he continued to follow his daughter to her room.

Once Isabella was settled, Tommy got into telling an elaborate story about a princess who had to go and save her darling dog from the grasps of an evil king — they’d just taken in Cyril and the little girl was obsessed with all things related to dogs. Isabella listened intently to the story, reacting to all of the twists and turns that it had. That was the thing she loved most about her dad’s bedtime stories: no one was the same. (Y/N) swore that he could have made a career in writing them…if he hadn’t went down other paths that is.

“We’re reaching the ending now, love,” Tommy warned his daughter as he took a moment’s pause. A pout formed on Isabella’s face; she didn’t want the story to be over yet. “I need to ask you about the ending…”

“What about it?” Isabella interrupted before he could get to the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she titled her head slightly.

“Happy or sad?” he asked, his brows raised as he waited for her answer.

“Happy,” the little girl answered without second thought. Tommy nodded and prepared to end the story. Isabella spoke again before he could get a word out, “who would ever choose sad?” she asked, her question one of the most genuine ones Tommy had ever heard.

“I…” he began to answer, but his words died in his throat as he really thought about the question she asked. He shook his head and ran his hand along his jaw, trying to think of a response that was worthy of such a question. “Someone who isn’t quite sure what happy is, I’d guess,” he finally responded, not sure if what he decided on was even good enough.

Isabella thought about it for a second, her pondering starkly present in her facial expression. “Well that isn’t us, right, daddy?” she then sweetly asked, her doe eyes finding his again.

In that moment, all the bad that Tommy Shelby had done was washed away. All the struggle and strife, the bad blood and the tunnels were the furthest thing from his mind. Now all that was present was the world that his darling daughter was imagining. One that only held good, one where everything ended happy. He was so thankful for her innocence, for the light that she brought into his life.

The slightest smile graced his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly. “No, love…that isn’t us,” he answered her as he sat a loving hand on her blanket covered knee. His smile grew with each second their eyes stayed connected, and he thanked whoever was mainf decisions in the sky for giving him this beautiful little girl.

“Are you gonna finish the story, dad?” Isabella asked, cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

Her expectant look made him laugh as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna finish the story,” he answered her before going on with the happy ending she’d asked for.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[alexa-yukiyu]

Aight here me out

Buggy has a child but instead their like moody, grumpy and stuff (like Octavia and loona from helluva boss) but they love buggy and would do ANYTHING for him

Happy go lucky dad 🤝 looks like it would kill you would kill you child

Substitute Assistant ( Cross guild x f!child!reader)

A/N not gonna lie I totally forgot who loons was, it’s been a hot minute since I watched helluva, since we are talking about helluva boss here, specifically loona, do expect a few swear words here and there. This one is kinda a flop but hopefully it lives to your standards Cosmo, I am surprised it wasn’t a Whitebeard request 😂,

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Here you go, asshole,” Dokucha growled, throwing a stack of paper on Crocodile’s desk, a task that they had called her father to do

Crocodile lifts his gaze from his work to the child, taking another look at the stack that now lay on their desk

“Where is the clown?”

“Why the hell do you care?! You have your stupid reports, now leave my dad alone asshole!”

“Should a child your age be using such words?” The voice of the swordsman drawls from the sofa next to them

“Shouldn’t grown men be over bullying others like little children?” She snapped back

At that Crocodile let out a low chuckle that slowly grew into a full-out laugh

“Well, Well seems the brat has more guts than that useless clown,” he grinned

“Don’t call him that!”

“Would you prefer us we call him a coward instead?” Mihawk questioned, taking a sip from the wine in his hand as he continued observing the child’s rage bubble more and more

“Shut up! You assholes know nothing of Dad! He has done many things and gathered people of all kinds with his charisma alone; unlike you, he doesn’t have to pay off or bully people into being his followers!”

Crocodile lets out a dangerous smile at her words

“Funny seeing how it was your father who borrowed money from me, money that he lost and got him where he is now, so by all means, go ahead and tell me more about paying people off.”

“Just leave him alone; you got the business you wanted. Now leave him the hell alone.”

“No can do, little jester, see those people that your father won with his ‘charisma’ have named him the president of the guild; he’s not going anywhere,” Mihawk spoke

“Whether you like it or not, it was Buggy’s decisions that brought him here; he has no one to blame but himself,” he finished, swirling his cup around and downing the liquid inside

She growled, turning around and leaving the room only to be stopped by Crocodile’s voice

“Be a good child and bring me a light, will you?”

“Why the fuck would I do anything for the likes of you.”

“Because if you don’t, then I have no trouble calling your father in instead. While we’re at it, I might have a friendly chat with him about his brat’s behavior.”

She grits her teeth at his response, glaring at him as he chuckles in response

“When you return, I have a few other jobs for you to do, so don’t be long now.”

“Fine,” she snarls, stomping her way out of the office

-

“Dokucha, where did you run off to? I missed you, my little star!” Buggy cheered as the small girl entered the room

“I was busy,” she mumbled

“How was your day today, Dad?” She questioned

“It’s so much better now that my favorite act is here!” Launching himself toward her, babbling about the different things they could do on their next performance

She chuckled as he draped himself over her, hugging him and nuzzling into him

“Hey, Dad?”

“And then Richie would app-hah? Yeah? “He asked, pausing his rambling

“I love you.”

He looks at her for a few seconds before he begins coming apart in surprise, fumbling to put his body together

“Little Star! You are just the cutest,” he cried, hugging her tight

“Okay, don’t go too far, old man,” she grumbled, trying to get away from the suffocating embrace

“Of course, anything for my little star!”

Again this was kinda weak but I hope you like it, obviously Dokucha is more mellowed out compared to Loona, and she doesn’t have that tsundere side with Buggy , hope you find the dynamic interesting

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05