#i thought i was going to have to work ten hours on less than five hours of sleep

[gaywarenn]

.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I accidentally came into work early, whoops, not my fault tho because my boss refuses to make my schedule normal. He used to have me work 6am-4pm on Sundays, which is a nightmare but whatever. But I checked my schedule today and realized I was scheduled to come in at 7am. I could've had an extra hour of sleep. I could've. But it means I get to go home an hour earlier than I thought!

But. I haven't done anything today. Not a thing. Sunday is our slowest day, there have been less than ten customers in the two hours I've been here so I've just been on my phone. I did Duolingo for a bit, now I'm on Tumblr. I'm getting paid to learn Spanish and waste my life on social media. This is delightful.

[anonymooseforever007]

Wanna Buy You A Drink

(Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's been five months since Bob's seen his wife, and aside from Natasha he had yet to mention her to his team. He calls it privacy, she jokes it's internalised possessiveness. But tonight, with Penny's help at the Hard Deck, more than one person is in for a surprise. After all, who doesn't love a good innuendo?

A/N- Hi y'all! No TWs I think, a good few innuendos and one joke about making babies but nothing actually happens. I've been trying to finish this one for a while and am very happy with how it turned out! P.S incase y'all didn't know the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force's professional flight team that does really amazing tricks and skills and the Blue Angels are the ones for the US Navy! Both groups are so amazing to see in person and I just wanted to make a little Navy Vs. Air Force rivalry joke about them!😊 Enjoy❤️

WC- 3.8k

Main Masterlist

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He didn't know you were coming.... or so soon at least.

The last time you had spoken to your husband was a few days ago while trying to find a flight to San Diego for next month. The two of you had texted of course, and you had even gotten a few awkwardly taken selfies of the man with the sunset behind him. Neither you nor your husband enjoyed having your photo taken, so seeing him take time to step out of his usual comfort zone was always touching. Besides, you would never tell him (nor would he tell you), but there was a growing album in your phone of sneakily taken photos, though blanket holes or around house walls when the other wasn't looking. These little albums you each had "hidden" helped the burden of the distance seem less harsh, especially in the times when Bob's job kept him farther way than usual.

Despite the top secret mission he had been sent on being completed, your husband was still assigned to say in the city for an undetermined amount of time. Evidently the higher ups decided they liked how well the crew had flown and wanted to keep them together. Tired of being alone and wanting to have a little fun in the Sunny City, you decided to make an early appearance. Luckily, you had already managed to find a job in the city that was just a different branch of where you worked before. They were also kind enough to give you a two weeks leave of your own to make the move and see your husband. Your husband knew you would to join at some point, only he thought you wouldn't be getting in until late next month. So he would be very surprised in a few hours when he found you at one of the navy's top aviator hangouts that night.

It was a bar called the Hard Deck. You remembered your husband mentioning it a few times through your communications, as where him and his fellow officers liked to go after a long day. A quick google search rendered a fruitful find, and ten minutes after getting your rental car, you were on your way. It barely 5:30 by the time your reached the bar, Aviators and Civilians alike had just begun to pour through the bar doors. But by 6:00 you were sure the place would be packed. So you quickly searched for a seat, always rubbing your right thumb over your left wrist to calm your nerves. 

In the centre of the building, a beautiful older beautiful woman moved around the main bar serving drinks with ease. 'Penny' you though to yourself, remembering Bob mentioning her a few times when the bar came up. Apparently in addition to running the bar she also had close connections to the the Top Gun program herself, namely with a certain Captain who helped lead the last Mission. You smiled to yourself as you saw the sign by the bar serving a warning to those who would disrespect women or the navy. Maybe this woman could help you with your fun. When it became your turn to order you smiled at Penny...

"Hi! I was actually hoping I could send a drink to someone else if that would be alright?"

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

Bob was tired. There was no particular reason why he was tired today, he just was. Training had gone smoothly and Hangman hadn't been too much of an pain either. All and All, today had actually been one of the least stressful days since he first arrived nearly five months ago. But for some reason Bob just felt off today, he chalked it up to having not spoken to you in a few days. Speaking to you always made him feel better, even when it was only for a few minutes. And having not seen you in person for five months made him long for something from you even more.

But these last few days had been busy, and then earlier today he had tried calling, but it hadn't gone through. This didn't worry him too much as he knew you occasionally turned your phone off during days when you really needed to focus on work. Though it was unusual for you to be working so late, seeing as your time zone was a few hours ahead of his and he called at 4:30 his time. Since the call didn't go though he decide that the "secret" photo album he had of you would have to suffice for now. Neither of you liked having your photo taken, but quick images taken half under the counter and while one slept always made the other smile.

He had been so busy looking at photos he almost didn't notice the group's nightly arrival to the Hard Deck until Phoenix nudged him. Giving him that half secret smile showing she knew what he was looking at. While the rest of the group (and even Maverick to a degree) thought Bob was incapable of talking to a woman without stuttering, Tasha knew otherwise. Bob hadn't even tried to hide it when she had asked why he seemed so fond of rubbing his right thumb over his sleeved left wrist night the group met. She had done it in private, of course, and only wondered if it was a nervous habit of her new WSO. And it was a habit....only not Bob's.

It was something you had always done even before you got married, a comforting repetitive habit that both you and your husband shared. But it also held a deeper meaning as it held the symbol your love. 

When the two of you first decided to get married a few years ago you hadn't gotten rings, or at least ones you'd wear on a daily basis. Both your jobs often required plenty of hands on work, and you had both been worried about losing the rings during the day. So instead, a cheaper pair of matching rings was bought and a new tradition was made. Each of you carried the other's ring in your wallet. That way, even when far apart you could have a piece of the other with you. And when the two of you met up face to face again you'd once more exchange rings. 

But even that wasn't all.

 The pair of you had wanted something more so you had decided to get matching tattoos. They were small and identical and despite almost breaking Bob's hand holding it while getting yours (from fear of needles) the small design was now one of your greatest comforts. On the inside of each of y'all's left wrist were two small stick figures holding hands on a paper airplane. At first glance it may have seems silly to any stranger passing by. But to you and Bob it was everything. 

Bob had been the one to draw stick "You" and you had drawn stick "Bob" with his little glasses. You had also drawn the paper airplane as stickmen were the extent of Bob's artistic skills. Besides, the paper plane you believed would be funny at the time. A memorial of how you two had first met in high school, when your paper plane had accidentally collided with his face instead of your friend's desk during class one day. You hadn't even known he wanted to be a pilot until months later, but when you did learn he was quick to comment how one day he'd be more than happy to take you up in a plane, as long as your weren't the one flying it again (he didn't think his face could take it). Years later you still found it funny and Bob would sometimes catch you laughing to yourself tracing the black lines on his wrist while lying in bed. A moment of peace before you two would have been parted again. Bob didn't regret what he did for a job, and neither did you, but that didn't stop you two from wishing to be together more. 

Again Tasha nudged him, breaking Bob out of his reverie before the pair headed into the crowded bar. It was just after 6:15 and already packed. Bob knew he'd rather head home and try calling you again, but he had also promised Fanboy one more pool rematch, since Hangman had busted into their last one. Luckily, even though the bar itself was crowded, the pool tables were open.

A few minutes into the game, Hangman and Coyote went to order a round of drinks and came back talking. Apparently there was some "Gorgeous Doll" (Jake's words) sitting at the bar and the pair of aviators were arguing over who'd get the chance to "woo" her first. 

Bob wasn't paying too much attention to their conversation or very interested in finding out more about this mystery woman. As far was he was concerned not even Dolly Parton could top your beauty and Bob would openly admit that he'd had a minor(ish) crush on the country singer since he was a kid. It had even become a running joke between your families, the battle for Bob's heart between you and Dolly. 

When he'd gotten his wisdom teeth out at 17, his mother told him someone had come to see him. Poor Bob about cried upon realising it was you instead of Mrs. Parton, his "Angel Voiced Beloved". Oh how you wish his brother still had that video tape, but unfortunately it had "mysteriously vanished" after Bob had overheard his sisters mention trying to get it for the wedding video. But more fortunately, the drugs wore off and soo enough he'd come back to his senses, and since that one night you'd been the only one for him. And luckily for him, he'd been the only one for you. 

So even if he was slightly curious to see which of his friends would attempt their flirtations, or which ones would fail, for now he didn't put too much thought into it. The quicker he won the game the quicker he could try calling you again. 

Soon enough Hangman was called back over to the bar to retrieve the group's drinks and they once again settled in to continue the game. Bob was once again winning, and Javy sat aside beginning to wish he hadn't placed such a bet tonight while Tasha and Callie were already making plans in their heads for what to do with their prize money. The only ball Bob had left to hit was the eight ball, and thanks to a lucky slip on Fanboy's part, it was a shot as perfect as it was easy. 

Javy cursed under his breath while Tasha and Callie high-fived, and Rooster cheered raising his glass up almost dumping his drink on Jake's head. Fanboy hung his head in defeat while Bob just grinned. Bob wasn't a bragging man but he still did like to win...a lot. The Squad may have thought of Bob as the quiet and passive WSO, but they had yet to see how competitive he could be when challenged. They had seen plenty of dog fights in the sky, but nothing compared to the vicious chaos between the Floyd family when it came to the annual gingerbread house competition. Under that sweet smile and those large glasses hid an overly excited man-child basking in his victory. Ok... so maybe it had been a good idea to come tonight. Bob couldn't wait to call his wife and tell her about his achievement. After all she was the one who taught him to play.

A few minutes later the group of aviators had settled down again and a new game started. This time Rooster was up against Maverick himself, which always proved to be a good show, full of sneaky cheating and playful jibes. Bob was sitting by Callie and Tasha taking his share of the winnings. It was only 6:30 now and he knew his night owl of a wife wouldn't be asleep for a few more hours so he decided to watch a few more games between his friends before calling a cab home. 

Hangman and Coyote were still debating over whose turn it was to talk to the new woman at the bar. Evidently, they'd noticed her reoccurring glances towards the squad during the first game and were sure she was interested in one of them two. And to drive their beliefs further, the glances had been accompanied by a playful smirk "directed" to the two men who'd placed themselves behind an oblivious Bob as them game went on. 

It was a few minutes later Penny walk up to the Aviators carrying a drink in her hand and smirk on her face. 

"Someone sent over a drink for one you lot," she said, at once turning the entire groups' attention towards her. After all who didn't like a free drink? Usually the drinks in question were for sent for Tasha or Callie, the only two women in the whole squad, but occasionally one of the other aviators would be the recipient. No one would forget the time Ruben got a drink from a 60 something year old women in a sparkly dress. And it appeared this would be one of those times. 

With a smirk on her face she turned, setting the colorful drink down saying,

"Lieutenant Bob Floyd someone wants you to have sex on the beach."

Aside from quite humming of ice machine and the clatter of Maverick's pool stick it seemed as if all the sound has been sucked out of the Hard Deck. As if Penny's words has been some wicked spell freezing, all the group's inhabitants where stood still. A little ways away from the group, a woman sat with a growing grin on her face as she watched everything unfold. Just as Bob opened his mouth, his face now a red as his wife's lipstick, Penny delivered the final 'blow'. 

"It's double strong too, so I'd say someone really wants you to have it."

Bob looked like a fish. A really cute six foot tall fish with military issued glasses but still a fish. His eyes were wide and his mouth kept opening slightly before closing as if the words in his head were fully composed of silent letters. If one were to look into Bob's head and read his mind they'd be able read the flurry of responses and polite refusals streaming through his brain. It wasn't the first time he'd been sent a drink, but that never stopped him from going speechless when it happened. Now Bob was a married man. A very happily married man, but he still had an awful habit of getting flustered anytime showed interest in him. It was something that Y/N took special pleasure in, and there were times they went out with friends when she'd pretend she didn't know him just so she could relentlessly flirt and turn him red. To be fair he'd also done it to her a few times, but she had a habit of taking any flirting he did as a challenge. And then, while their friends fake gagged and smirked behind their backs, the night would be filled with flirty winks and innuendos until someone gave in and "agreed" to take the other to "their place".....wait a mi....

"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of getting you a refreshment. Thought you might have deserved it after that wonderful win." 

Bob was grinning like an idiot before he even finished turning his head to the approaching voice. He didn't get out of his seat though as his head fell back to the ceiling with a hand over his face as the last of the embarrassment left him. Turning his head back to the women he smiled again as he began to laugh. He turned his body more towards her and noticed the dress she was wearing. Damn he loved that dress. It was the one she wore when they had gotten engaged. Looking at her lips she appeared to have the same lipstick on too.

"I hate you."

Words said without malice, quite the oppose actually, brought another laugh to Y/N's lips as after months apart she finally got to stand in-front of her husband. Eyes never leaving her husband's, she places a hand over her heart and gave a dramatic gasp.

"Well that is the most heartbreaking news I've ever heard darling. You see I was so impressed with your skills earlier, I was ALL set to propose. See I even got you a ring," and with that Y/N pulled her left hand back from her chest and revealed Bob's ring which had been sitting in her wallet for months now. Well, aside from almost every day when she'd fidget with it in her hands while on the phone with him or just because she missed him. And a little farther up from her palm was a small tattoo of two tiny stick people holding hands on a paper plane. In the back ground, Phoenix let out a small sound of joy of her own as she finally understood what was happening. Quickly she leaned over and explained to Callie, who also started to laugh. The rest of the aviators still stood in shock, not sure what was going on. They only knew that for some reason Bob "Blushes at the word boobies" Floyd was getting the attention of one very pretty women, apparently because he could play pool. 

Bob only stared at her hand for a moment longer before he finally stood from his chair and wrapped the woman in front of him in his arms. Spinning her around once before kissing her cheek he pulled back.

"Well, I guess I'll have to rethink my words then ma'am. In fact, I think I got a ring right here that may fit your style," he replied grinning as he pulled Y/N's ring out of his own pocket and wallet with a practiced ease done many times before. "You'll have to forgive me for not kneeling to do it now, I'll get my ass chewed out if I dirty this uniform," he joked looking down to the woman in his arms smiling back.

"It may not be typical or proper, but I certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely ass of yours....so I guess I'll accept," Y/N joked back, drawing out a few words for added affect, not really caring about the propriety of it just ecstatic to be with her other half again.

"PROPER?! I haven't seen you in five months and the first think you do is send someone to tell me you really want me to have sex on the beach. How's that's proper for ya! Not even a hello first," Bob laughed. As surprised as he was initially, he really did miss this little game of y'all's. It brought out a cheekier side of him his friends usually didn't see.

"Alrighty then," stepping back and picking up the drink in question with a smirk, Y/N raised it to her husband's eyesight, "Hello, Lieutenant Bob Floyd would you like to have sex on the beach?"

"Well I just don't know if that's something I can answer in public Mrs Floyd," he replied cheekily, still starting at his wife.

"MRS.FLOYD"

That was the collective statement from the remaining aviators as the couple was finally brought out of their own little world. Turing to face the company Bob stood with his arm around Y/N's waist proudly like a child at Christmas.

"Yeah, Mrs. Floyd. Been that way since I became the luckiest man on earth."

"And since I became the luckiest women. But all ah y'all are welcome to call me Y/N. Or you know... Mrs. Baby on Board. Though I guess we haven't gotten to that part yet, but, it has been five months after all."

Tasha followed, closely by Callie, was the first to approach as Rooster's pool stick fell to the table and Maverick started wacking a sputtering Jake on the back, after the latter choked on his drink with the final sentence. 

"Hi, I'm Natasha and this is Callie, callsigns Phoenix and Halo. I'm your husband's ..."

Before Natasha could even finish she was wrapped in a hug by Y/N.

"Ohh I know you!! Bobbie talks about you all the time! You're Black Widow! It's so nice to meet you!!"

"Black Widow," someone asked from the side, while Bob began to chuckle under his breath.

"Ohh right, sorry. I have a hard time with remembering names, so I like to make up helpful nicknames with Bob to remind me of who is who. Like Natasha is Black Widow because of Natasha Romanoff; and Callie is Catwoman because of Callico Cats; and there's also a Rocket Raccoon for whoever's Bradley; and I have a Peter Pan beca...."

"Yep I think they get it darling. No need to divulge all our secrets." Bob interrupted nervously, not quite wanting his team to know all his secrets yet. He'd also NEVER tell them that when you first learned about his job you'd compared him to the Thunderbirds. I mean the audacity of it all! Everyone knew the Blue Angles were superior! Those were some fighting words Bob assured you at the time. Callie and Tasha burst into grins, liking this more and more, while Y/N looked back a her husband with a fake look of innocence in her eyes. Meanwhile Penny, still with the group, wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as Maverick gaped and Rooster got into a debate with Mickey if he was hotter than Bradley Cooper. Soon the laughter died down and Maverick stepped forward sticking out his hand.

"Well it sounds like you seem very good at giving callsigns of your own. Maybe we'll have to put you in charge of naming the new recruits Y/N. My callsign's Maverick but I'm guessing you know me as Peter Pan."

"Pleasure to meet you Maverick. I might just have to take you up in that offer. Heard a lot about you too. All of you in fact. I'm sorry for interrupting your game earlier, I've been waiting to do that for a long time. Your friend Penny was a brilliant help too." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. He had a welcoming smile that reminded her of her own father. She also sent a smile towards Penny who returned it with her own and took a step closer to Maverick. 

"No problem at all, it always nice to see couple's meeting again. I must admit the drink was a nice touch. Never seen an idea that creative yet." 

Stepping back towards her husband who put his waist around her once again, "Why thank you captain, I do suppose it's nice someone appreciates a good innuendo." Bob gave a small groan, but smiled as he buried his head into his wife's shoulder whispering how he did appreciate it and would show her how much later. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N caught a few more aviators still staring, though they seemed much less confused, now slowly settling in to of their quiet friend being married. "Though I believe there's a few more introduction left as well," She mentioned as she stepped towards the remaining group and shot a mischievous grin towards her husband, asking him a question without words.

"Oh just do it, they're gonna know eventually I guess," Bob laughed and looked at his wife with an equally mischievous look, finally taking a sip of his drink. After all, she'd probably let the names slip one day. This was going to be great. Hearing her next words, Jake choked on his drink again.

"Alrighty then. Which one of y'all boys is Statefarm?"

[mediumgayitalian]

“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”

Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.

“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.

It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.

He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.

“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”

Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.

“Whenever you’re done.”

“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.

“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.

“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.

Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”

He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”

“Ghost King.”

“Right, right. That helps your case.”

Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.

“I was thinking —”

“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.

“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”

“You chased me across camp for that?”

“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”

“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”

“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”

“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”

“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”

Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.

“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”

“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.

“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”

“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”

Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”

Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”

“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”

“Feel free to get to it.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”

He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.

“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”

Will pouts. “What?”

“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”

“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”

“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”

“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”

“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”

“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”

He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.

“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.

“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”

His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.

“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”

He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”

He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.

“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”

It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.

———

The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.

“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”

“Nico!”

“Coming!”

Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”

“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”

“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”

“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”

Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.

“Nico!”

“I’m coming!“

Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.

The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?

“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”

Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.

“You look dorky.”

Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.

“You got me flowers?”

“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”

Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.

“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”

“Give them back, then.”

“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”

Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”

The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.

Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”

“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”

Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.

“You need to be meaner.”

Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.

“Good gods, Solace.”

“That was your fault!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.

“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”

Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper.”

“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”

Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”

They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.

“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”

“Mhm. Sure thing.”

“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”

“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”

Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”

Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.

“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”

“You, too.”

The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.

“I knew it would work.”

“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”

He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”

“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”

“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”

He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.

“What? No! I’m paying.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”

“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”

“Solace, I swear to the gods.”

“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”

Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.

“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”

“Sure, but I made you come with me.”

“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”

As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.

“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”

“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”

“…I’m paying next time.”

Will grins. “Whatever you say.”

They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.

(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)

It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.

“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.

“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”

“You’d never.”

He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.

“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”

“Nevermind.”

“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”

Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.

As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.

“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”

“Right.”

They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.

“Hey, Nico.”

“…Yeah?”

Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.

“You can pay for our next date, okay?”

He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.

“The little fucker set me up.”

Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.

Nico smiles.

“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.

He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”

Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.

[mvybanks]

SOMEONE TO STAY — pt. 1

a/n: look who’s back👀 i will try to be consistent this time and post part 2 as soon as possible! i decided to change part 1 because i didn’t have any ideas for the original plot, this is a little bit different but these little changes gave me lots of ideas! + this jj i’m writing is kinda inspired by jamie streicher (behind the net by stephanie archer) sooooo you’re welcome🫣

warnings: mentions of unplanned pregnancy, abandonment issues, daddy issues. future parts will contain mature content so this is strictly 18+

word count: 3.3k

pairing: single dad!jj x babysitter!reader

nav someone to stay masterlist

someone to stay: the playlist

add yourself to my taglist <3

—

JJ Maybank grew up in a ghost house.

He never knew the warmth and support that lingers in a loving home and all he ever understood was that blood doesn’t equal family – and he believed that all of that was completely normal to know at the age of only seven years old. 

As a father, JJ realized that it wasn’t. He would’ve given his daughter the world if he could’ve and he tried every day to do so, because that’s what family does. He wasn’t good in relationships, never had been the smart one in school, not the brightest among his friends, but JJ put everything he had in being a great father, because no one deserves to know that family is not always blood at seven years old. 

He hadn’t planned to have a child if he had to be honest, let alone with someone he barely knew, but that didn’t stop him from loving Isabella Maybank with every single ounce of his soul. Unfortunately, her mother had never felt the same way – how is that even possible, one might ask, but JJ couldn’t understand it himself. 

It had been over ten months since Lily had left them on their own, and for the blond-haired man moving on was harder than he had thought. After all, she had been part of his life for five years and was engaged to him for six months prior to her sudden departure and abandonment not only of her soon-to-be-husband, but of their five-year-old daughter as well. He had never gotten an explanation from her, only the sight of an empty bed and a poor excuse of a message in his voicemail.

“I can’t do this anymore. It’s over.” that was all she’d had to say to him before bailing on her family. 

He hadn’t been surprised, they’d had problems for quite some time, stuck in a loveless relationship that was kept alive for their daughter, born from an unplanned pregnancy. However, Ella wasn’t a mistake – not to her father, anyway. So, at the age of five years old, Ella Maybank had to try to understand that having the same blood doesn’t always mean to be a family, and JJ’s heart ached every day at the thought of what his little girl had to endure, two years younger than when he’d had to learn the same lesson. However, JJ would always make sure that the Maybank curse ended there, with him, with Lily’s departure – no Maybank was going to suffer as much as he had ever again, and his little girl nonetheless. 

JJ gave up on his life for her. He gave up on love, on finding someone to share a life with, because he wasn’t going to give his daughter another heartbreak, he was going to protect her fragile heart until his last breath, even if that meant having to close the doors to his forever. 

His life revolved around his daughter, even his job, therefore, when his boss gave him a promotion, which included a big raise (that he so desperately needed) but longer and less flexible hours, he found himself in a terrible position. Accepting the promotion meant spending less time with his daughter, but also being able to afford whatever her heart desired. It should’ve been a no brainer  — at least that was what John B, his best friend, had told him. 

He was scared of leaving his daughter in the hands of a stranger though, because none of his friends could watch her while he was at work all day, so he had to get a babysitter — but who? 

—

As he dialed the number into his phone, JJ had to remind himself that he wasn’t abandoning his little girl. It was for their own good, he told himself, and a sweet little girl as his daughter would’ve definitely become friends with her babysitter in no time. 

‘Great references’ and ‘we’ve never had any complaint about her’ were what they had told him at the agency about the babysitter they were going to hire for him. He had read everything on her file, thoroughly, making sure she was good like everyone said.

“So, she can come over every day, from Monday to Friday, right?” he questioned the man on the other line for the umpteenth time. 

“Of course, sir. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Finally, he realized that everything was taken care of and he didn’t have to keep pestering the poor man with questions anymore. It was done. 

He walked into the living room of his home, looking for his daughter to give her the news. And there she was, his little angel drawing a picture as she sat on the ground, not even noticing the smile that her sight had provoked to her father. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he made his presence known before sitting down next to her. 

“Hi, daddy.”

“What you doing?” 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Drawing.”

“I can see that. Who’s that?” He asked her as he pointed to the almost-unrecognizable figures.

“That’s me,” she said, directing her forefinger towards a small shape, “And that’s you!” And he could tell immediately because the other shape was three times as big as the little one, which made him chuckle. 

He bent his head down to kiss her head while she went back to her masterpiece. 

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

She turned her head quickly to look at him, peering up at him with those big blue eyes that truly resembled her father’s, as she waited for his next words. 

JJ knew that look too well and it made his chest squeeze; the same scared eyes she had given to him when he’d had to tell her about her mom not coming back anytime soon. Now, the fear that she might think that he could ever do the same makes him sick to his stomach. 

He picked her up and sat her on his lap, to remind her that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Daddy is going to spend more time at work, but I called a great babysitter that will play and keep you company when I’m not home. Is that okay?” He tried to spill everything as fast as he could, not wanting to prolong this conversation; one look at her sad eyes would’ve made him pick his phone and call everything off. 

“Was I bad?” She asked, and he swore he heard his heart breaking. 

He hugged her close to him before he began leaving countless kisses on her head and then on her face as she giggled. “You’re the best,” he said in between tickles and forehead kisses, “You did nothing bad, sweetie, I promise you. I will drop you off at school every day and I’ll try to pick you up, too. Then, I’ll be home around dinner and I’ll kiss you goodnight like I always do, alright? You won’t even realize I was gone.”

She didn’t say anything else; she only showed him her little finger, silently asking him to pinky promise. It was their way of saying that everything was going to be okay and that they trusted each other. Grinning, he latched his own fifth digit with hers before bringing it to his mouth to leave a quick peck. 

—

“Char – Charlo – CHARLOTTE!” You snapped at your friend who kept rambling on the phone about what she had just done and in how much trouble she was in.

From what you had managed to gather from her words, she had been called in to babysit a new kid three days from then, but she was on a spontaneous vacation with her girlfriend and hadn’t told her boss about it. Charlotte had just had a whole weekend of babysitting the week before and she didn’t expect to be called for another kid, but there she was, freaking out and giving you a headache. 

“You really can’t fly back in before this weekend?” You questioned, trying to reason with her. 

“NO! There’s only one plane that could take us back, but it’s too expensive, neither of us can afford it.” She said with tears pricking at her eyes. “They’re gonna fire me. I don’t have a job, oh my God, oh my God- “ 

“Hey! Take deep breaths, okay?” 

You could hear her hyperventilating. She had always been kind of a drama queen, however, it was impossible to not have the same reaction as her this time. 

“You gotta help me, please,” she begged, and you knew if she had been there with you, she would’ve gotten on her knees.

“I don’t know what to do, Lottie.”

“Take my place! It’s a new family, they’ve never met me, they don’t know what I look like. I’ll give you the address, you’ll just have to watch a kid and pretend to be me. You’d get the money, of course, I just can’t lose this job, please.”

Although she couldn’t see you, your jaw dropped in disbelief. No way you were going to do that. 

“I – I can’t to that. I don’t even feel like leaving the house-“

“Babe, if this is about Jake again, I swear to God…” She interrupted you immediately. 

Charlotte wasn’t wrong; there was a reason why you didn’t want to go out and his name was, in fact, Jake, your ex-boyfriend. It had been two months since you had found him naked with another woman in his apartment…the one he had given you the key to. Nonetheless, you didn’t care about that anymore, not even about him in general. What was keeping you from leaving your bed those days was disappointment; why couldn’t you find a good guy? Someone who means what he says, who really loves you? And why was it impossible for you to find someone who was able to take your breath away? Was there something wrong with you?

“I love you, honey, I really do, but I won’t let you give up on love because of that jerk; if you do, I’ll haunt you down.” And you knew she wasn’t kidding. 

“ ‘Haunt me down’ ? What are you? A ghost?”

“I will be if I don’t show up at that job.”

You sighed loudly before turning around in your bed. What was the worst that could happen? 

“I’ll do it,” you groaned, surrendering to your pleading best friend. 

“Are you serious? I love you, I love you, I love y-“ She kept screaming, possibly impairing your hearing by reaching ultrasonic sounds. 

Maybe this was going to be good for you; it couldn’t have done more damage, right?

—

Walking up to the driveway of the Maybank’s household, you couldn’t help but think about why they would live in such a secluded area. It was beautiful, that was for sure. The small and cozy white home was surrounded by green, all around it a beautiful garden, and you could tell that they had a good view of the ocean from inside; it was stunning. Finally, you ringed the gold-colored doorbell that rested on the side of the front door and waited for someone to greet you, although your heart was beating like crazy from the anxiety. What if someone found out what you were doing? Wasn’t it a felony? It must have been, you thought. You were going to kill Charlotte; you couldn’t believe she had put you in such a difficult situa-

Well, you weren’t expecting to be met by the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. Perhaps your best friend was forgiven. 

Wearing a white buttoned up shirt and casual jeans, JJ stared at you for a second, not saying anything, which made you wonder if he had been expecting someone else. “Hi, I’m Charlotte Jones,” you said, breaking the silence, as you offered him your hand to shake, “The new babysitter.” Your hands felt clammy as he finally, and torturously slow, took your palm in his, and you hoped you weren’t shaking from the fear of him discovering your secret before you could’ve even stepped foot inside the house. Clearing your throat at the uncomfortable silence, you continued, “You must be Mr. Maybank, right?” 

He only gave you the satisfaction of a nod, until words actually came out of his mouth. “That’s me.” 

Damn, you thought, that was the sexiest, raspiest voice you had ever heard. 

Silently, he gave you enough space to enter his home and you showed him a soft smile as you followed his orders. 

Alright, at least we’re in, you thought. 

Like you had imagined, it was even more breathtaking inside, warm and made of wood. You understood why it was completely outside of reach from the city: that house was a safe little heaven. “You have a beautiful home, Mr. Maybank.” 

He looked down at you, which made you realize even more how much taller than you he was, and only made what seemed like a sound of approval at your words. Was he expecting someone different? Or maybe he already hated you for no reason at all. 

However, JJ was observant. He couldn’t help but notice how your eyes wandered around the room with curiosity, the way you gnawed on your bottom lip and played with one of your rings; were you nervous? Was he making you nervous? 

Suddenly, the sound of little feet running around the house filled your ears and a little girl with hair golden like the sun, and like the man beside you, came into view. She had big blue eyes and a sweet and genuine smile, the one that only kids can always wear with so much easiness. The toddler walked to her dad and hugged his leg as she stared up at him. “Daddy, who is she?” she whispered, but you could hear her as well, loud and clear, which made you stifle a chuckle. 

The corners of JJ’s lips slightly lifted up at his daughter before bending down to talk to her at her level. “She’s gonna be your babysitter, sweetie. Remember? We talked ‘bout that,” he spoke in a kind tone as he brushed some hairs out of the little girl’s face. That was the first time he had said a full sentence in your presence. 

She seemed to think about her father’s words and then she turned to you, offering her small hand. “My name is Ella.” 

You crouched down in front of her and accepted her hand. “Hi, Ella, I’m Charlotte. You’ve got a beautiful name, you know?” 

“It’s short for Isabella, right honey?” JJ interjected and his daughter nodded furiously. 

They looked like the cutest dad and daughter duo and that made your chest squeeze for multiple different reasons. 

“You’re pretty.” Ella said, admiring your features. 

Close to blushing at her words, after all kids always tell the truth, you added a soft “thank you. But you’re the prettiest.” 

The man beside you could only agree with both statements as he realized how beautiful the woman that was about to spend every day at his house was.

What the hell had he done?

--

You weren’t surprised to find out that JJ had left you a list of things his daughter liked to do and what her nightly routine was, in order to help her fall asleep faster, along with a post-it note attached to the refrigerator with his number written down on it; ‘in case of emergency, this is my number:’ it read. He had already ordered pizza for both you and the little girl, and you found amazing how much he was still taking care of Ella even when he wasn’t around. You realized that he was raising her on his own; you couldn’t tell what happened to her mother, but the lack of pictures of another woman made you suspect it shouldn’t have been an easy topic in that household. 

Perhaps spending your Friday afternoon and night playing with dolls and drawing with a five year old hadn’t been in your plans, but it sure as hell turned out to be so much more fun than you had expected. Ella was the cutest and sweetest kid you had ever met, and you were glad to be the one to spend time with her. She talked your ear off about all her stuffed animals, their names and about their likes and dislikes; she told you about her favorite shows and how she loved when her dad took her to the park or painted with her and about how he was building a doll house just for her. You couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that JJ Maybank was the best, most attractive dad you had ever had the pleasure to encounter, and yet the most mysterious as well. You were still wondering if he had decided to hate you as soon as his eyes had landed on you.

“Do you know how to braid your hair?” She asked you at some point.

You were tucking her into bed, carefully placing her stuffed animals next to her, when you looked down at her and smiled, “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Daddy can’t do it…”

“I can braid your hair if you’d like.” You said, already knowing the answer to that. It was easy to understand, even after spending so little time with her, that she didn’t want to bother anyone and was scared to ask for stuff, so you realized it was easier to make it look like you were offering it to her in the first place. 

She grinned up at you, nodding, before she turned around to let you work her hair into a braid. You gently combed your fingers through the blonde locks and got to work. 

“You’ve got beautiful hair, you know?” You spoke softly.

“Thanks.” 

You wrapped the end of the braid with your own hair tie, which was previously sitting on your wrist. “All done!” 

Before you could understand what was happening, she sprinted to the bathroom, giggling in excitement as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Jumping up and down, she threw herself at you and, thankfully, you were quick to catch her as laughter filled the room. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She never stopped saying as she hugged your neck; your chest squeezed and your heart ached at the action.

Following the instructions given by her father, Ella fell asleep pretty quickly, although she asked about her dad, but didn’t make a fuss about his absence. Nonetheless, JJ came back home at exactly 9:30 p.m., just like he had told you.

As he closed the front door behind him as quietly as he could, “Everything okay?” He asked.

The man speaks, too!

“Yes, of course. She was an angel,” you smiled, and you swore he was fighting himself to do the same.

The moment you had left the house, JJ ran to his daughter’s bedroom because, as promised, he had to kiss her goodnight. He knew she probably wouldn’t have even remembered it, but one thing about him was that he would always keep a promise to his little girl. Bending down to kiss Ella’s forehead, he noticed the way her hair had been wrapped in a braid and it almost brought tears to his eyes. It was something Lily used to do a lot, and since she had left, the little girl had been asking him to do the same, but he couldn’t for the life of him and he dreaded the disappointing look in her eyes. 

She slightly opened one eye to peer up at her dad, “Daddy,” she yawned. 

“Ssh, go back to sleep, sweetie. It’s late.” 

Nodding, the little girl obliged, not before she’d had the chance to add, “I love Charlotte. Can she come back?” 

It was obvious she was in a sleeping state, still he didn’t miss the peaceful expression painting her features and he couldn’t deny her of that. “Of course.” He pecked her forehead once again, “Goodnight, sweetie.”

“Goodnight, daddy.”

Now, all he had to do was understand how to make his body stop reacting every time your pretty eyes were on him. 

taglist:

@notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @harleyharlot @babypoguelife @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @gemofthenight t @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @lovelornanonymity @rafetopia @maybankslover @lyndys @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @moremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @fishingirl12 @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @savagemickey03 @idli-dosa + in the comments!

[megalony]

Sick Day

This is a rather short Evan Buckley imagine based on an anon request. I hope you all like it, I was struggling with what ideas to write today.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989

911 Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) isn't well, Evan takes the day off to look after her.

Enjoy.

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

"Come on, as if you have to ask what I'll have," A grin pulled at Evan's lips and he downed the last dregs of coffee before he leaned over and switched the tv off. He didn't know why he turned in on in the first place, probably out of habit because he had only watched five minutes of the news and now it was time to leave.

Evan had the skill of being able to down his first morning coffee in less than three minutes and he needed a coffee to wake himself up, especially on the days when he was driving to work. When he did the early shifts he preferred it when Eddie picked him up on the way so he didn't have to drive. But Eddie was only down for a short shift today and Evan was in for the full twenty four hours. He had to drive so he could get himself home tomorrow.

With his empty cup in one hand and the other holding his phone to his ear, Evan strolled out of the living room towards the kitchen.

Hen had called. She was graciously going on a breakfast run this morning to fuel everyone up and she was ringing round to take orders.

"Yeah, I'll-" Evan cut himself short and lifted his head from looking towards the kitchen to stare at the stairs. He barely placed his cup down on the side when his eyes locked on (Y/n).

He had left her in bed when he came down ten minutes ago. He had dragged himself away from her, planting numerous kisses to her skin before he left and she wasn't at work today. She was on maternity leave and had no reason to be up this early.

That wasn't what worried Evan. It was the way she stumbled down the stairs and swung herself round into the bathroom at the side of the stairs that made him uneasy. He watched her burst into the bathroom, unable to stop and turn the light on before the horrid sound of her throwing up drifted through the apartment and echoed back to Evan.

"I'll call you back in five, I gotta go." He didn't wait for a response before he ended the call, tossed his phone on the side and jogged towards the bathroom. "Babe? Baby, you okay?"

Evan flicked the light on and pushed the door open, leaning his weight onto the door frame as a sigh pushed past his lips. His arms folded over his chest and he watched with a grimace as his wife threw up again.

She had her legs curled beneath her in an awkward sitting position, her feet slumped near the shower mat behind her. And her arms were draped around the back of the toilet with her head slumped forward onto her forearm to stop her head hanging in the toilet. Her upper body was slumped over and a subtle tremble had taken over her frame that was quaking back and forth as she tried to take big, panting breaths.

If Evan didn't know any better he would have thought she had fainted, but her weak groan told him she was still awake.

"Okay baby, come here." He pushed off the door frame and moved to crouch down beside her, arching his knees outwards so his legs were curved around her frame with her in between his thighs. "Talk to me,"

He was careful when he pulled (Y/n) up so he could look at her and he tried to hold her chin between his fingers. But their eyes barely met before (Y/n) pulled her chin out of his grip and bent down again to hurl into the toilet. The back of her throat burned and she coughed, trying her best not to choke as she threw up last night's tea and the little fluids she had drank during the night.

(Y/n) felt pitiful when she cried and gasped for breath, wiping her eyes on her arm but it didn't make her feel any better and she could feel more tears replacing them anyway.

She prayed Evan would have been out the door when she almost fell down the stairs so she didn't throw up on the floor. (Y/n) didn't like Evan seeing her like this, especially not when she was now going to make him late for work. It wasn't fair.

She could feel Evan's lips pressing against her bare shoulder and his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms. His hum and shushes vibrated against her skin and made her shiver and when Evan pulled her back and let her flop against his chest, she tried to smile and look up at him. They both knew her smile did nothing to calm him down, he raised his brow as if asking if that was all she could manage.

"I-it's all out,"

"That's not exactly comforting, babe." Evan sighed before he leaned his arm over to flush the toilet. He cared a lot that she had thrown up last night's tea because it meant she didn't have anything left in her system. She was eight months pregnant, the last thing she needed was to be getting ill like this. Morning sickness had hit her hard in this pregnancy and she had only just shaken that off two months ago.

If she had some sort of stomach bug or sickness and was throwing up again, they would be back down the road of her getting dehydrated and lacking nutrients and the energy she needed.

"I… I feel a bit better now." (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair, pushing the strands away from her face that she turned to tuck into the crook of Evan's neck. She tried to smile into his skin when she felt his hands continue to smooth up and down her arms. "Don't make yourself late, sweetheart, I-"

A little gasp left her lips when Evan tilted her head back and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She shivered at the way he clicked his tongue and shook his head at her.

"Don't sweetheart me, you're burning up. You're going back to bed." She was getting a temperature and buttering him up wouldn't make him ignore that.

"I will."

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Evan's shoulder and reached a heavy hand up to cup his cheek. When he only stared down at her with that dark, infectious, if possessive look, (Y/n) could have melted on the spot if she didn't feel so icky and uneasy. She loved that little flicker in his eyes and the way he would curve his lips up at one side in a very dark way as opposed to the usual goofy way he smiled at everyone else.

"I don't doubt that, because I'm gonna stay and make sure you do."

"Evan no, you need to go to work," Something whined at the back of her throat and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck, bringing her hand up to brush his jaw while he kissed the top of her head. Her lips pressed against his neck and she kissed the junction beneath his jaw that acted as a button to make him shudder and curse at her.

She wasn't letting him take another day off to stay home with her. He needed to go to work, he would be taking leave in two weeks anyway in time for when the baby was born. It wasn't fair on him to take time off and be home with her when she was sick, he didn't need to be running round after her.

"Buttering me up won't make a difference, I'm not leaving you like this. Come on, sofa or bed?"

(Y/n) found the strength to loop her arms around Evan's neck and he took the hint, smiling into her temple as she wasn't going to argue this with him and he could feel her resolve melting away. His hands found her hips and he slowly stood up, pulling her with him onto unsteady feet.

When he heard (Y/n) whisper 'bed' quietly under her breath, he turned her around in his arms and pressed his hands against her lower stomach. His lips pressed to the back of her head and his elbows squeezed into her sides to pin her in his embrace. Evan could feel that she was still shaking in his arms and he didn't want to let go and have her stumble or fall.

Deep down they both knew she was in no fit state to stay home alone and mull about the house to try and settle her stomach. And Evan didn't trust her to tell him if she got worse. He needed to stay and look after her and check that she was going to eat and drink without throwing up again. She needed fluids in her system.

There was no way Evan was about to leave when she was in this state, he would ring Bobby soon and tell him he wasn't going in today.

A small smile flooded Evan's face as they started to ascend up the stairs as if they were conjoined. But the smile faded when they got halfway up and (Y/n) suddenly stopped. Evan's knees bumped into the back of her thighs and he jolted to a stop as (Y/n) clamped her hands down on his wrists as her knees buckled.

"Going dizzy,"

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and tilted her chin down into her chest to try and relieve the air bubbling up in her head. She felt like all the blood was draining from her head and static burst in her ears.

"Okay, okay down we go baby."

Slowly, Evan lowered them both down until he was kneeling on the step below and eased (Y/n) down with him until she was awkwardly bent in front of him with her back leant up against his chest. His chin perched on her shoulder so he could kiss her cheek as he moved his arms around.

An arm stayed around her lower waist and he shifted his right arm beneath her legs, coiling his wife into his chest before he slowly stood up. He didn't give (Y/n) time to panic or tell him she was too heavy or it was too dangerous to pick her up on the middle of the stairs. He held her up in his arms and walked up the rest of the stairs towards the bedroom.

He bent his knees in front of the bed and carefully eased (Y/n) down, biting his lip when (Y/n) wavered and flopped forward. Her head pressed into his lower abdomen and her hands clutched at his thighs as she groaned into his stomach. Evan curled his hand over the back of her neck and leaned down to kiss her head.

"I'm definitely not going in today. Think you can lay down for me while I go call Bobby?"

Evan brushed his thumb across her jaw and kissed her forehead when she dropped down properly onto the bed and curled up on her side. Her eyes were already closed and she buried her face in the pillow, looking like she was half dazed, on the verge of sleep.

***

(Y/n) tiredly nuzzled her face into Evan's chest, burying her face into his hoodie as she wedged herself further into his side. Her arm moved to drape over his middle while she felt Evan's arm tighten around her side. His large hand splayed out on her stomach and he grinned when he slipped his cold hand beneath her shirt and felt her squirm and gasp into his chest.

"What time is it?" She grumbled quietly, brushing her nose into the ruffle of his jumper.

"Half one. Are you gonna try and eat something?" Evan scratched the back of his head, pushing back on his arm that was pinned between his head and the headrest. He ruffled the hood on his hoodie and dragged it down from covering his head.

"Hm," She wasn't hungry but she knew Evan would start to start to fuss like a mother hen and panic if she didn't eat anything soon. She hadn't eaten yet, she was letting her stomach settle after being sick this morning. Most of the day had been spent in bed with Evan watching tv and (Y/n) sleeping.

"Good," He kissed the top of her head before he slowly eased from beneath her and sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

He had managed to get (Y/n) to drink two glasses of juice so far and that was an achievement.

When Evan headed downstairs, (Y/n) slowly sat up and clicked her spine into place. She felt better than this morning when she stood up and pulled evan's shirt back down so it covered her thighs since she wasn't wearing bottoms.

Her lips curved into a tired smile and she looked across to the kitchen as she headed down stairs. Evan was wearing matching grey joggers and a hoodie but it was an old one, it looked like it barely fit him now and every time he moved an arm, he flexed a bicep. His hair was ruffled with curls standing up on end in each direction and the way he parted his lips just a little when he was concentrating looked sweet.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't realise she had been staring until she looked up and Evan was staring at her. He had raised brows and a smirk as he pushed a glass of juice across the counter towards her.

"I thought we were eating?" Her eyes fell to the counter and she grabbed the stool, trying to be graceful but she knew she didn't look it when she slowly eased herself up onto the stool.

"Yes, but you should be resting."

"I am, I'm sat down,"

When Evan passed her to go to the fridge, (Y/n) reached her arms out and curved them around Evan's arm so she could reel him into her chest. He turned round, a look of surprise on his face but he wasn't complaining. He cupped her face and tilted her head up, brushing his thumbs near her lips before he leaned down to kiss her. She felt his teeth nip at her lower lip and she smiled, grazing her fingers against his neck to make him growl.

"You're still burning up," He commented quietly as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Come on, baby." Evan helped her down from the stool and reached over for the plates he had gotten ready.

(Y/n) cosied herself up into Evan's side when they sat down on the sofa for a change. Her arm curled around his bicep and she leaned her cheek against his upper arm, staring down at the sandwich on her plate. She didn't feel so hungry now she was looking at food. Her stomach was churning at the sight of food and she could feel her throat tightening, but she needed to try.

She was only going to make herself feel worse if she didn't eat anything and she needed to try and look after her and the baby.

"You okay?" Evan had demolished most of his sandwich while (Y/n) seemed to have taken one bite of hers which she was staring at woefully.

"I'm not hungry,"

"Can you eat half of it, please? For me?" Concern dripped from Evan's voice as he looked down at (Y/n) and kissed the top of her head. If she had just a few more bites he would feel better. At this rate, Evan knew he was going to be taking tomorrow off as well if (Y/n) was still like this. He wasn't going back to work if she couldn't eat and wasn't drinking enough.

A small groan burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she put the plate down on the coffee table before she tucked herself back into Evan's side. He could feel her trying to take steady breaths that fanned through his sleeve. She had eaten about four bites of her sandwich which was something, but it still wasn't good.

"Stay there a minute," Evan jogged off to the kitchen and when he returned, he handed her a milkshake. "Try one of my protein shakes. I'd feel a lot better if you could keep something like this down."

Evan and Eddie had a lot of protein shakes at the station in case they didn't have much time for food or if they felt run down. They were great for helping when they were training in the gym and on days off. Evan would stop worrying so much if (Y/n) managed to drink one and keep it down because it was full of vitamins and proteins and it was as good as a blended smoothie. It would mean she had something in her and it would stop her from feeling so run down and sick.

"Thank you," He spoke quietly against the top of her head when (Y/n) finished the drink.

He propped his feet up on the coffee table and slouched down and a grin spread across Evan's lips when he felt (Y/n) moving his hand. She curved his arm so it was draped across her chest with his palm pressed against her lower stomach. Her head tucked up against his arm and she could feel adrenaline coursing through her stomach when Evan slowly began to glide his hand up and down her stomach.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Pearls.

Synopsis: Raising a child was the hardest thing a mother could do, especially alone.

A/n: I was listening to Pearls by Sade and thought of Alastor’s mother, so I decided to write about it because I feel like no one talks about how much of a godsend that woman is. Everyone’s always talking about Alastor and the reader, or Alastor this and Alastor that , we need to thank the woman who gave us Alastor. (Vivziepop) HIS MOMMA THE SWEETEST WOMAN IN NEW ORLEANS LOUISIANA DAMNIT, anyways hope you guys enjoyed :)

Pearls by Sade

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, mentions Racism, typical 1900’s - 1930’s stereotypes, NOT AN ALASTOR X READER, just a background one-shot on Alastor and his Momma because we need more of them out here

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

There is a woman in Somalia

Scraping for pearls on the roadside

There's a force stronger than nature

Keeps her will alive

Sylvie tried her hardest. She was raising a son on her own, working anywhere she could. Lord knew things weren’t easy, but what was? Life was hard, and it wasn’t going to go soft on Sylvie just because of her newborn son. If someone would have told her a year ago the man she fell in love with would have left her with a child, she’d have incense all over her all the time.

Alastor’s father was not a bragger. In fact, he hid Sylvie as best as he could. Giving her money every week by midnight, enough to keep her mouth shut, though she would never tell anyone, but not enough money to last her and her son. Babies were expensive, and things were only becoming worth more and more money. Who in their right mind would hire a black woman to work for them? Hell, even showing her face was a bit risky, the only reason she hadn’t been thrown into jail was because of her son. Though she didn’t like admitting this fact.

She dressed in her best clothes, shined her shoes and kissed her son goodbye, leaving him with her most trusted support, her mother. Sylvies mother knew of her, frivolous activities, to say the least. But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be there for her daughter any less. Sylvie tried her best to straighten her hair, despite her mother’s warnings not too. She needed to look pretty, tamed, and well kept. Having her large fro wouldn’t land her a job anywhere. She needed to look her best, even if it came off as a desperate attempt to survive. But she needed too.

She stands in front of the mirror, brushing her now straight head of hair as carefully as she could. A red hat sitting perfectly on her hair, her long beige skirt stopping just below her knees. Her long sleeve white shirt embellished with a perfect pearl necklace. Ironically, it wasn’t hers, but her mother’s. Her father had worked hard to get enough money to gift it to her mother. She sighed, mentally hoping that she got this job. It was hardly anything, fifty cents an hour. If she worked every day for a week, four hours the way the ad in the paper said, then she’d have ten dollars a week. With the money from Alastor’s father, that left her with thirty five dollars. The heat alone was forty dollars. She’d be five short, but thankfully living with her mother made things a bit, easier.

“Are you leaving in time?” Sylvie’s mother asks. She stands in the doorway with the small child in her hands, gently rocking him. He’s silent, soft snores flowing through Sylvie’s ears and she smiles. She walks toward her mother, away from the mirror and stops. She reaches out slowly, and her mother gently hands the child to her. She takes her son in her hands and smiles, turning away from her mother while slowly rocking her son. Her mother reaches forward to close the door quietly, letting Sylvie have her time with her son. Sylvie smiles down at him, sitting at the edge of her bed slowly.

“I’ll give you the best life I can.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I promise.”

This is how she's dying

She's dying to survive

Don't know what she's made of

I would like to be that brave

By the time Alastor was five he knew how to read and write fluently. He could read books for days and knew all the latest dances as Sylvie made it her priority to make him versatile. She wanted her son to be the best little man he could, well, little now at least.

“I don’t get it. Romeo was in love with every girl he saw.” Alastor said, adjusting his skeeters to look at her better. She stood at the stove, sliding peppers, onions and a few other spices into the pot in front of her. It had been two years since her mother passed, and she stayed in her house with Alastor, wanting to raise him around love. She knew her mother was looking down on them, and one day, hoped to be with her too.

“Honey, stories aren’t for you to understand. They’re just there to make you think.” She says, swiping her hands over the pot after putting the cutting board down. She smiles and turns to him, stopping her movements. She pinches his cheek before smiling. “From the looks of it, seems like it has you thinking too.” She says, before letting go to walk to the sink. Alastor follows behind her quickly, still speaking.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. Do you think they deserved to be together?” Alastor asked, before Sylvie shrugged, letting the cold water hit her hands. She cleans her hands off, shutting the water quickly before wiping her hands on her towel tucked neatly into the waistband of her apron.

“I think they deserved to be happy, and if that means the two of them being in love then, yes.” Sylvie says, perking up at the music flowing through the radio. Though fairly new, the small box was her favorite thing in the world, and raising Alastor with that love almost made it feel genetic. “Oh look honey, our song is on.” Sylvie says, turning the volume up a bit. Suddenly, Alastor begins dancing quickly in his place, and as Sylvie turns back to him, she finds herself laughing, watching her son dance his heart out all on his own, albeit a bit odd, but he was having fun, and that was what mattered. She danced her way back over to him, holding her hands out for him to grab, which he did, happily spinning around his mother with laughter.

“Oh the food!” Sylvie said through her laughs, walking back over to the pot while Alastor continued to dance until the songs end. He sits on the floor, watching his mother stir the pot, fixing his skeeters.

“What’cha making?” Alastor asked, standing on his tip-toes to see, leaning against the counter.

“Jambalaya.” She said with a wink.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives a life she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Alastor was eight years old when Sylvie found out his father was married to another woman. He was eight years old when the woman showed up to their home, her two kids with her. He watched the woman yell at his mother in their doorway, her kids behind her as they observed Alastor standing behind his mother.

“You filthy slut! Sleeping with my husband! How dare you?!” The woman screamed, jabbing her finger into Sylvie’s chest. She was in tears, embarrassed, confused, heartbroken and ashamed.

“I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me anything! I never knew you were married or even had kids!” Sylvie defended, an arm in front of Alastor to shield him from her. The woman stoped, looking at Alastor with disgust, before dread washed over her.

“Don’t tell me that boy is his…” She trailed off, voice getting quieter. Sylvie said nothing, turning to Alastor with a sad smile, teary eyed.

“How about you go, go to the sitting room. Okay?” She asked quietly, giving him her best smile. He nodded, giving the woman and her children one more look, before listening to his mother. Once he was out of earshot, Sylvie turned back to the woman and sighed. “Yes, that is his son. He doesn’t come to see us, and he never has.” Sylvie said, before looking at the woman’s children, a boy and a girl. Both were pale, with light blue eyes and lighter hair to match their mother. The boy looked more like Alastor’s father, and Sylvie couldn’t deny the way it hurt to look at him, so she looked away. “He doesn’t come here anymore. I haven’t seen him since I told him I was pregnant. That was eight years ago.” Sylvie said. The woman’s eyes widened.

“Eight years ago?” She asked in a whisper. Sylvie said nothing, smiling at the two kids.

“Please don’t let this tear your home apart.” Sylvie said, her heart going out to the woman’s children. “They don’t deserve that. It was in the past and I-… I’ve moved on.” Sylvie said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. In truth, she had been jumping from job to job at night, while homeschooling Alastor during the day. Paying for good paper, school books. It was bad enough she had been wearing the same clothes for years, only spending money on Alastor. His clothes were larger than him, it was easier to buy them bigger so she didn’t need to keep wasting money on out-grown clothes.

“I see…let’s go children.” The woman said, putting her hands on the children’s shoulders and guiding them down the porch steps, which had been rotting away slowly due to the old wood. When they were finally out of sight, Sylvie shut the door, sighing with a heavy heart. She walked through the halls of the home and to the sitting room, finding Alastor sitting in silence, looking down at his hands, radio playing softly in the background.

“Hey honey.” Sylvie said softly, the boys head looking at her quickly.

“Hi momma.” He said quietly. She gave him a sad smile and sat down next to him.

“You okay?” She asked, and he just sat in silence again, looking down at his hands.

“Who was that?” Alastor asked, and Sylvie just sighed. She knew one day she would have to tell him, but so soon? Sylvie took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Alastor’s questioning eyes. “Alastor, those children… they’re your father’s, and that woman is their mother,” she began gently, choosing her words with care. “Your father and I share a past that happened before you came into this world. It’s a complicated story, and I’ve been doing my best to shield you from it, wanting to give you a chance at a simpler life.” She paused, gauging his reaction before continuing, “Their family is a part of your history, and while I’ve moved on, it seems the past has a way of catching up with us. I want you to know that whatever happens, we face it together, as a family. You’re the most important thing in my life, Alastor, and nothing will change that.”

Hurts like brand new shoes

There is a woman in Somalia

The sun gives her no mercy

The same sky we lay under

Burns her to the bone

Alastor was ten when the topic of his father came up again. It was after Sylvie and him had come back from groceries. Sylvie was still working multiple jobs at night, leaving at eight once Alastor was tucked into bed and sound. She had begun to sell some of her things, he was growing quicker now. He was up to her shoulder, and he was only ten. Sylvie was average height, five feet and four inches, with Alastor at five feet and two inches. His hair was getting straighter the more he grew, his tight curls softening into looser ones, but still made him handsome nonetheless.

Walking up the stairs to the porch, Sylvie and Alastor stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing two children, around his age, sitting on their front porch chairs, plates of hot food in their hands. Sylvie had remembered them instantly, the boy especially looking like Alastor’s father.

“Hello. May we help you..?” Sylvie asked carefully, Alastor staring the two children down. The girl just frowned and looked to the ground, while the boy stood up. He was the same height as Alastor too.

“We wanted too… speak with you Miss..?” The boy questioned, unsure of Sylvie’s name. She lied on the spot, giving him some dumb white name instead of her own.

“Adam’s.” She said quickly. Alastor said nothing, but his face said it all as he watched his mother open the door to their home, paper bags in hand. Alastor held the rest, all the while staring at the young boy and girl. “Would you like to come in?” She asked the children, and the boy shook his head.

“No thank you Ms. Adam’s, we just wanted to ask you something. Is that alright?” The boy asked. Sylvie nodded slowly, opening the door wider for Alastor to step in. Alastor stood behind Sylvie, curiously watching.

“Oh alright, just a moment please then.” Sylvie said with a small smile, and the boy nodded back to her. Sylvie shut the door, and Alastor turned on his heel to the kitchen.

“Momma, are those the kids you told me about?” He asked, knowing Sylvie, his mother, had given him bits and pieces of his father’s history, his children and life. Sylvie said nothing until the two got to the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter. Sylvie gave Alastor a thoughtful look, uncertainty clouding her features. "I'm not sure, honey. They didn't mention the reason," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "It seems they're here with questions or concerns. I'll find out when I talk to them." Alastor, sensing his mother's concern, stepped closer to her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring hug. Sylvie embraced him back, the shared warmth a silent acknowledgment of their unbreakable bond.

"Alright, Momma. Let me know if you need me," Alastor said, offering his support as Sylvie prepared to face the unexpected visit from his half-siblings. Alastor stood in the kitchen, putting groceries away per Sylvie’s request. Sylvie steps back outside, nodding to the two children.

“So, what can I help you with?”

Long as afternoon shadows

It's gonna take her to get home

Each grain carefully wrapped up

Pearls for her little girl

Alastor moved away from home when he was eighteen, going to New York to pursue his career in journalism. Sylvie supported him fully, saving money every month since he was thirteen for the occasion. She’d have him read her the paper while she made dinner, listening to him talk and perfect his voice.

Recently for his birthday, Sylvie had taken him to see a play. Romeo and Juliet, the first ever ‘complex’ book he’d read, so naturally it was only right his first play follow the same format right?

“Take care of yourself for me, okay honey?” Sylvie asked as she stood at the station with Alastor. He just smiled down at her, watching her dust off his shoulders and straighten his tie.

“I will, don’t worry about me, please.” He said with a smile, allowing her to fix his hair and shift his skeeters, knowing it was just her nerves.

“You know I can’t help it.” She said with a soft smile, hearing the train horn go off again. “Go, before you miss your train.” She said quickly, stepping on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before stepping away. To her surprise, her son, who usually truly disliked anyone touching him, embraced her. She smiled and patted his back softly, trying her hardest not to cry right there. “Write me when you get there.” Sylvie said, and Alastor just nodded.

“Love you momma.” He said quietly to her, before he pulled away, a bright smile back on his face. “I’ll write you as soon as I get to the city.” He said, and Sylvie nodded. Watching her son get on the train and leave, adorned in his best suit, brand new as Sylvie had saved so much for it just for this moment.

Sylvie returned home that day, walking into her now empty home with tears in her eyes. She went to her bedroom, opening a small box out from under her bed. Tears streamed down her face as she opened the box, picking up a small bottle from inside, popping the cork off and tracing her finger along the rim. Then, quietly, she spoke to herself.

“s'il vous plaît, ancêtres, protégez-le aussi longtemps que vous le pouvez” ( “please ancestors, protect him for as long as you can”)

In the bustling city of New York, Alastor found that it was a bit easier to land a job, though not much, it was a start. He settled into the fast-paced rhythm of city life, immersing himself in the world of news and media. Soon enough, he climbed his way to the top, changing his accent and becoming so well known his mother listened to his broadcast everyday.

Back home, Sylvie eagerly awaited Alastor’s letters, cherishing every word that bridged the distance between them. The letters became a lifeline, a way for mother and son to stay connected despite the miles.

As Alastor navigated his way through the competitive world of journalism, he found success, but the city’s relentless pace also brought its own set of trials. He was a mixed man, people did not take kindly to that fact. But status meant more than anything and he had the money to get by. With each triumph and setback, he continued to write to Sylvie, sharing his experiences and seeking comfort in her unwavering support.

Their bond, though physically stretched, remained unbroken.

Hallelujah

Alastor was twenty three when he came back home. He had gotten a transfer and began to host his show in Louisiana. Living with his mother hadn’t been a difficult adjustment. In fact, to Alastor, it felt like things had fallen right back into place. Until it hadn’t. As Alastor grew, the shadows of both the roaring twenties and the practice of voodoo cast their complex hues over their lives. Sylvie, a practitioner of voodoo, had passed down the sacred traditions to her son, weaving a tapestry of mysticism and heritage into the fabric of their existence.

In moments of desperation, Alastor found himself drawn to the potent rituals he had learned from his mother. The voodoo practices, once a source of connection and understanding, became a tempting tool to manipulate circumstances in his favor. Alastor, in the pursuit of success and happiness, began using the ancient arts for personal gain, delving into a darker side of the mystic practices.

Sylvie, sensing her son's divergence from the righteous path of voodoo, couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Yet, beneath her disapproval, a mother's unwavering love persisted. She yearned for Alastor's happiness, even if it meant witnessing him tread on ethically murky grounds. Sylvie grappled with the conflict between her teachings and her maternal instincts, understanding that her son's choices were his own to make. However, it was easier to ignore things when the shadows around her home didn’t taunt her, despite her son’s warnings to them. Often times, she’d find him tracing symbols onto his hand during a conversation with someone, always behind his back as he spoke. She’d find small towers made of sticks her backyard sometimes, hanging around tree’s and something’s hiding in bushes. She said nothing, deciding it was his choice, but she’d always cleanse her area, and began to beg the spirits to lead her son in the right direction.

Their home, once a haven of warmth, now harbored the echoes of decisions made in pursuit of desires. Sylvie, despite disapproving of Alastor's misuse of voodoo, remained a steadfast pillar of support. For a mother's love, resilient and unconditional, transcended the boundaries of right and wrong. The tangled threads of voodoo, jazz, and maternal love wove together in the backdrop of their lives, creating a narrative of complexity and nuance.

Hallelujah

It was when Sylvie fell ill that Alastor had begun to change his ways, or partially. Becoming bedridden, Sylvie could no longer do things. Her son had grown into a well respected man, one she loved and cherished so much. But, she feared her time was coming soon and thus could no longer keep him safe anymore. He had done so well as an adult, he made something respectable out of himself. He became someone. Her biggest hope for him had come true, he had made a name for himself, left his mark on the world through radio. She was so proud of him.

In Sylvie’s final days, Alastor found himself torn between the guilt of his previous actions and the desire to make amends. The echoes of the past whispered in his ear, urging him to rectify the missteps that had strained the sacred bond between mother and son. He knew his mother disapproved of the way he used her teachings, but it wasn’t easy living in the world, fighting to make ends meet and fighting for respect.

One evening, as the dim light of a fading sunset painted Sylvie’s room, Alastor made a silent vow to honor his mother’s teachings. With a heavy heart, he delved into the mystic arts not to manipulate fate, but to seek guidance and help. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows as Alastor immersed himself in the rituals he had once misused. He had tried everything, saving money for the best medication, home remedies, having specialists see her, everything.

As Sylvie’s condition worsened, Alastor found solace in being by her side, tending to her needs with a newfound tenderness. The past haunted him, yet the present held the opportunity for redemption. In caring for his ailing mother, Alastor discovered a profound connection that transcended the barriers of time and choices made.

The world outside continued to applaud Alastor’s radio success, unaware of the internal transformation transpiring within him. Sylvie, weakened but perceptive, observed the change in her son with a quiet pride. As Sylvie lay in her bed, the fragility of life evident in her every breath, Alastor approached with a mixture of reverence and regret. The room was adorned with flickering candles, casting an ethereal glow that danced on the walls.

“Mother, I… I’ve come to seek your guidance.” Sylvie, her eyes conveying a deep understanding, nodded weakly.

“Honey, my time here is waning. But I feel a shift within you. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” She asked, tightening her grip on her son’s hand. Alastor hesitated, the weight of his past actions pressing upon him.

“I’ve used the mystic arts for my own gain, tarnished their sanctity. I’ve tried everything to help you- I… I tried so much.” He said, at a loss for words. Silent tears bordered his eyes, Sylvie, though weakened, managed a gentle smile. “I should have listened more, learned more. I should’ve been better.” He said frustrated, angry tears slipping from his eyes and down his cheeks. He looked down, skeeters fogging as he fought his tears, holding onto his mother so tight and afraid to let go. “Is this my fault?” He asked quietly.

“No, never dear.” Sylvie said shaking her head softly. “I know you tried your best. All will be okay. I taught you well, raised a good man. You will get everything you want and more in this life, I promise you.” She said weakly, coughing a bit with the tissue in her hand. Finally she calmed down, speaking again. “The world is a stage. Make it your own.” She said smiling at him, and he just chuckled. She sighed and spoke again. “Life is a tapestry, my love. We learn, we grow. I know you are hurting.” She said, placing her hand weakly on his chest, but she continued. “I know you missed out on so much. So much I tried to give you, but you turned out so wonderful, so special. You did not disappoint, and I would do it all again to love you dear.” She said, hand cradling his cheek. “Don’t stop living when I’m gone.” She said to him, and he nodded, teary eyed, holding onto her hand.

“I love you momma.” He said, smiling sadly as he cried to her. Sylvie just smiled back, tears welling in her own eyes as she held onto him. She sat up slowly, beckoning Alastor to lean closer. She placed a kiss on his forehead with shaky hands, pulling away with a smile.

“I love you too honey.” She whispered.

As Sylvie’s final breaths approached, Alastor held her hand, seeking solace in the fragile yet profound connection they had forged. The room, filled with the scent of candles and the soft strains of jazz, became a sanctuary for a son bidding farewell to his guiding light.

The final moments with Sylvie became a sacred passage, where Alastor whispered words of love and gratitude, promising to carry forward the legacy she had bestowed upon him. As the room filled with a bittersweet melody of jazz playing softly in the background, Alastor prepared to face a world without his guiding light, determined to walk a path worthy of her memory.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives in a world she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Hurts like brand new shoes

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Slow

Summary: A night out celebrating Miller Contracting finishing their first big contract on time with the next one around the corner, leaves you going home with Joel and Frank, spending a night with both men you would have never dreamed of.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader x Frank Castle

Wordcount: 3,864

Rating: E

Warnings: somewhat established relationships, unspecified age gap, alcohol, smut (oral m receiving, unprotected sex) mmf threesome, everyone is bi here, feelings, a little derogatory language, public fingering, no outbreak AU

A/N: this is something I did not know I needed 26 hours ago. Also only a little edited. This is just for fun. I also fucking hate writing threesomes so if you find mistakes, please don't tell me lol

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„So, come around here often?“ You tried not to roll your eyes, leaning with your side against the bar counter of the shady, yet cozy dive bar your boss had all invited you to to celebrate finishing the first big project on time and landing two new ones. 

You hadn’t worked that long for Miller Contracting Ltd. You hadn’t been living in Austin long in the first place. A shitty break up and a boss who did not know how to keep his hands to himself let you pack your few belongings and visit your best friend almost a year ago. It had been a five day road trip, but it had changed your life. 

Now you had your own apartment, a new car and a new job as…. The girl for well, everything that had to do with numbers at Miller Contracting. 

Your boss did not make a big secret out of his dislike for paperwork in your interview.

Which led you standing in one of your favourite summer dresses, waiting for the guy behind the bar to notice you so you could order the last round for the table. 

You tilted your head to the side, finding Tommy looking at you, his eyebrows wiggling playfully, a silly grin on his lips. Tommy Miller was the younger of the Miller brothers and definitely had a drink (or three) too much already.

„Not sure if your wife likes you flirting with other woman, Miller,“ you grinned and he chuckled. 

„Not flirting. Don’t need to. I have the hottest wife at home. Here to help you,“ he said. 

You smiled, loving how in love he was with his wife, their first baby on the way. 

The bar man finally approached and Tommy ordered another round, water for you, and began to talk to the man about the latest football match. Something you very much were not interested in. 

Taking this as your cue to go you turned away, walking slowly back to the table. It was already getting late, and most of the workers had already left for home. Only Frank and Joel, your boss, were left.

They seemed to be in a deep discussion, leaving you to admire them both as you walked back over to the table. 

Frank had joined the crew not too long ago. Moving from outer state, looking for a job he had shown up at the working site, ready to be put to work. He had politely asked to talk to whoever is in charge after he knocked at the trailer that had been set up at the construction site for you. 

If you appeared… flustered he did not comment on it, talking to Joel who had been in the trailer with you to… talk about the pay checks for the coming week. 

At least that’s what he told everyone the day before the checks were due. 

Yes you did talk about the checks for the first ten minutes. The remaining time, however much he had left, was spend with you bend over your desk and he railing you from behind until you were both more than satisfied. 

You hadn’t been looking for someone. Much less your boss. Not that you thought a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you. 

He was… the manliest man you had ever met, older than you by a couple years. A hardworking Single Dad of a adorable twelve year old named Sarah. 

He was tall, broad, the slightest of silver shining through this dark hair and beard.

Funny enough the first time you slept together was after you both were a little tipsy in just this bar, waking up in his bed with a pleasant soreness you had never felt before, leaving for an awkward breakfast at which you both decided that you had to try this again sober. 

Deciding pretty quickly that you both wanted to continue seeing each other, no strings attached after. 

You, because you were figuring out a way to let you believe a man like Joel Miller could be interested in you (and your body) and Joel because he didn’t know how to let someone in and let them see the real him. The man who was scared to fall in love, to let someone in. 

Even though he already was very much in love with you. 

Not that you would know. 

You smiled at Frank as he looked up, sitting down next to Joel. Not too close, not too far. Even though part of you wanted to lean against his side and play with his hand that was resting on the bench next to you. 

„Whatcha talking about?“ You asked. They both looked at each other, before looking back at you.

„Hockey,“ both said in union and you nodded slowly, suspicious. 

„Doesn’t sound like a lie at all,“ you nodded and they both laughed. You looked at Joel, finding him hiding a smile as he looked at you for a moment before he looked back at Frank. 

Frank brought the bottle of his beer to his lips, taking the last sip, before he leaned back against the bench, watching both you and Joel with a amused smile.

You could admit that Frank was fucking hot. 

There was something dark about him, that made him even more attractive. And yeah when he was at the construction site and was working shirtless you always found a reason to spend a little bit more time outside. 

Something even Joel had noticed, hissing against your ear as he fucked you hard, asking if you wanted Frank instead of him. 

You only realised after that Joel had been jealous, finding him working shirtless only a couple days after, winking at you as he found your eyes.

Tommy stumbled against the table with the drinks. 

„My very beautiful wife is waiting outside for me. Be good. Don’t do something I wouldn’t do,“ he grinned and waved before he turned around and walked towards the door. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. 

„It’s adorable how much he loves his wife,“ you said, grabbing the glass of water and pushing the bottles of beer to Frank and Joel. 

„Never seen him like that ever before,“ Joel admitted.

„It’s a fucking miracle to find your person in this fucked up world,“ Frank said and you nodded. 

„Cheers to that,“ Joel said, raising his bottle, clinking it with his. You raised your glass too, cheering towards Frank, almost jumping in your seat as you felt Joel’s hand come up to rest on your thigh. You turned your head towards him and he clinked his bottle against your glass, giving you a small smirk, before drinking. 

You gulped before taking a sip of water. 

You had switched to water after your second beer, having drive here from home. Sarah was staying with a friend so Joel had invited you to stay the night and you were looking forward to tipsy Joel having his way with you. 

„So how long have you two been fucking?“ You head Frank ask and you chocked on your water, turning your head towards the man sitting across from you. 

He had his arms crossed, long at both you and Joel with an amused smiled. 

Frowning you looked at him, trying to come up with a lie you could tell him when Joel opened his mouth. 

„Better part of a year,“ he said and your mouth parted, shocked.

You two never had the discussion about telling anyone when you both still weren’t sure what this was or could become. Not that anyone ever had noticed until now.

Joel looked at you with a warm smile. He squeezed your thigh and you found yourself smiling back, warmth washing over at his admission. He did not even think about lying and it felt so fucking good to have a man not wanting to hide you like a dirty little secret. 

Even though you had been sneaking around for a year, but this was different. 

„Lucky bastard,“ Frank said and your eyes snapped from Joel to him. 

He laughed at your expression. 

„Don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking beautiful,“ he said, his eyes fixed on you. 

„She is,“ Joel said and you felt hot all of the sudden. His fingers pushed your dress up, his hand slipping between your legs and you bit your lip, your eyes still on Frank. 

„I’ve seen you watching me, girl,“ he said and you parted your lips, your chest rising as your breathing got faster. Joel’s hand kept wandering up your thigh, your legs parting for him unconsciously. 

„I haven’t…“ you began to lie, but Joel clicked his tongue. 

„Don’t lie to him, darlin’,“ he hummed, his hand between your legs pulling you closer towards him and you gasped. 

„Yeah, don’t lie to me darlin’,“ Frank repeated with a small smirk. 

„What… What is happening?“ You asked, lust clouding your mind, your panties wet as Joel fingers finally found their way to them. 

He hummed, his head bending down, his forehead resting against the side of your head. 

„Frank here had an idea to celebrate the good work you do,“ he said. 

„The work I do?“ You asked. 

„You’re the brain, we the muscle baby,“ Joel said and you gasped as his fingers pushed underneath your panties. 

„You… you did not talk about hockey while I went to get drinks,“ you said.

„No,“ Joel said.

„Joel…“ you whispered. 

„Tonight is about making you feel good. However you want,“ Frank said and you looked at him as Joel slowly pushed one of his fingers inside of you. 

You moaned quietly, your eyes slipping closed. 

„You want Frank and me to fuck you, baby?“ Joel hummed against your ear. Your eyes opened, looking at Frank who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer. 

You looked at Joel, his fingers slowly fucking into you. 

You wanted to ask him, where this idea came from. If he was certain. If he was really suggesting what you thought he was. As if he could read your mind he leaned close against your ear, whispering a quiet it’s okay. 

Flooded with confidence you turned your head, pressing your lips against his. 

„I’m taking you both home,“ you said, watching both men smirk. 

You were drunk on the power you felt as two of the hottest men you had ever laid eyes on sat on Joel’s bed, looking up at you. 

You had driven to Joel’s place with him in the car with you, Frank following behind. 

On the way Joel assured you that you were in charge to which you told him you didn’t want to be. You wanted them to fucking wreck you.

So he made you repeat the rules. 

Green for keep going. 

Yellow for slow down. 

Red for stop. 

You had never used anything than green with him before, and you did not plan on doing differently today. You trusted Frank. And you trusted Joel to keep you safe, no matter what. 

He told you to strip down for them as soon as you entered the bedroom, which left you here, slowly pushing your dress from your shoulders, swinging your hips with a shy smile as you let the fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but white laced lingerie you had worn for Joel. 

He had told you he loved you in white a while ago.

„Slower,“ Joel said, his hand palming his cock, still hidden inside his jeans. Your eyes moved from him to Frank you had his bottom lip between his teeth and one hand inside his pants. 

„Think about all the times you watched Frank work in the heat outside. Give him a little show, sweetheart,“ Joel hummed and you shuddered.

You turned away from them, taking a deep breath. You let your hands wander up an down your sides, your fingers playing with the straps of your bra, looking over you shoulder at both of them. 

Slowly up pushed the straps down before you unclasped your bra in the front, turning around, your hands covering your tits.

You found Frank’s eyes as you let your bra slip from your arms, revealing your bare tits to him for the first time. He hummed, his eyes burning as they raked over every inch of naked skin revealed to him. 

You hadn’t noticed Joel taking his cock out, his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it. 

„Go on,“ Frank nodded, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. 

„I think it would be only be fair if you get rid of some clothes to, Gentlemen,“ you said. 

„That so?“ Joel asked and you nodded. 

He looked at you, amusement in his eyes. 

„You heard the lady, Castle. Show her those abs,“ he said and you couldn’t stop your giggle at seeing Frank roll his eyes. 

Both of them took their shirts off at the same time and you couldn’t help yourself as you walked over, bringing one of your hands up to each of their broad chests. 

You sighed when you felt Joel’s hand hook into your panties, pulling them down your legs as Frank leaned in, kissing your tits.

„How about you get down on those pretty knees and suck Frank’s cock,“ Joel said and you looked down to his cock, biting your lip. He got up from the bed, his fingers tilting your chin up, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss.

„Show him how good your mouth is,“ he whispered and you nodded, looking back at Frank who had pulled down his pants in the meantime, his cock hard and leaking against his tummy. 

Slowly you lowered to your knees between his legs. His hand came to cup your cheek as you looked up at him, his thump pushing inside your mouth. You closed your lips around it, flicking your tongue over it. 

He smirked. 

„Imagined those lips around my cock so many times,“ he said, pulling his thumb out. 

„Yeah?“ You asked, your hand carefully wrapping around his cock. 

He hissed, his jaw clenching while he nodded. 

„Let me know if I live up to your Imagination,“ you said, your lips kissing the tip of his cock, humming as you licked your lips, tasting his precum. 

„Fuck me,“ he groaned and you grinned as you parted your lips to suck on the tip of his cock. 

Hallowing your cheeks you slowly took him deeper, humming at his taste. He was a bit thicker than Joel, maybe an inch or so smaller. Relaxing your jaw you took him deeper, bobbing your head slowly as you sucked him off. Your hands resting on his thighs, digging into his skin. 

The noises he made were downright sinful, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

His hand came to rest on the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair a little. 

„You can fuck her mouth. She loves it,“ Joel said from behind you and you moaned. 

„That so?“ Frank asked and you blinked your eyes, nodding with his cock in your mouth, humming around it. 

You felt Joel’s hand on the back of your neck and you looked up finding him hovering over you. 

„Come on, show him how much of a little cock slut you are,“ he said and you moaned, taking Frank’s cock deeper until your nose hit his pubic hair. 

You looked up at him, keeping him down your throat and he cursed before he began to fuck your mouth. Slowly at first, then getting rougher, the wet slurping of him fucking your mouth filling the room. 

„Fuck. You are good at that,“ he moaned, pulling out of your mouth. You smiled up at him, licking your lips. He got up to stand, pulling you up with him, kissing you hard. You moaned against his lips as you felt Joel on your back, kissing up your shoulder. 

Feeling four hands on you was a strange sensation. Someone was holding your tits in his hands, while other hands squeezed your ass. Frank’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you let yourself relax against Joel’s strong chest. 

„You can fuck her. But don’t cum inside of her,“ Joel hummed against your skin, kissing up your neck. 

You loved when he got a little possessive.

Frank parted from your lips, one of his hands holding your face as he looked at you, dark eyes fixed on yours. Joel’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers playing with your clit. 

„Want me to fuck you?“ Frank asked. You nodded, pecking his lips. You turned your head to the side, Joel’s lips finding yours before you watched him kiss Frank, your pussy clenched at watching them kiss.

„Get on the bed. On your back. Wanna look at you when I make you cum,“ Frank rasped and you nodded. He took a step back and you got on the bed, flooded with confidence you spread your legs, laughing when he crawled over to you, kissing your lips. You felt the bed dip on your side and then there was Joel. 

His warm body against your side. 

Frank’s hands were on your thighs, pushing them apart as he kissed down your body. His lips closing around your nipple. 

„So fucking perfect. You’re a lucky bastard Miller,“ he said, flicking his tongue over your nipple. 

Instead of answering Joel leaned in and kissed you, humming against your lips. He deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing one of your tits. 

You felt Frank line up between your folds, the head of his cock slipping through your slick.

„She’s fucking soaked,“ he groaned and you sucked Joel’s lip between your lips as he parted from you. 

Frank rolled you to your side, so you were laying with him against your chest, one of his arms pulling you against him, and Joel behind you. You felt Joel’s hand on your stomach, his lips against your shoulder. 

Frank wrapped your leg above his, his cock between your legs.

„Want me to fuck you now?“ Frank asked, kissing you softly. 

„Please,“ you whimpered and he chuckled. 

„I got you,“ he cooed, parting your legs a little wider to make space for him, slowly sinking into your heat. 

You felt every inch of him, letting your head slowly fall back against Joel’s.

„Shit you’re so fucking wet. So warm,“ Frank groaned, slowly fucking into you. 

You moaned, closing your eyes. You felt Joel’s hand play with your tits and you reached behind, wanting to touch him. Opening your eyes you looked down and behind, finding Frank’s hand wrapped around Joel’s cock, slowly pumping his length all while he fucked you. 

„Fuck you’re both so hot,“ you whimpered and they chuckled. 

„You’re fucking breathtaking, baby,“ Joel hummed behind you and you whimpered. 

Frank began to fuck you harder, his thrusts hitting that spot inside of you, that made your whole body shake. 

„Oh, she’s close,“ Joel hummed and you felt his hand sneak between your legs, finding your clit, beginning to circle it. Frank’s hand was now on your hip, moving you against him. 

„Make her cum, Castle,“ Joel snarled. You reached your arm back, your fingers pushing into Joel’s hair, your fingernails scratching over his scalp. He kissed the side of your head, pinched your nipple and with the way Frank was fucking into you it was only seconds before you exploded, your orgasm making you cry out loudly.

„Fuck… Fuck,“ you heard Frank curse before he pulled out of you. Looking down you saw him jerking himself off before ropes of cum hit your stomach. You where still shaking from your orgasm when you felt Joel line himself up behind you and thrust into your still fluttering pussy. 

Your eyes closed, whimpering as Joel fucked into you hard and fast. 

„Always so fucking good for me,“ he groaned behind you and you moaned. Lips were on yours and you opened your eyes to find Frank kissing you. His hand now replacing Joel’s on your clit. 

„You gonna cum for him again?“ Frank rasped. 

„I can’t….“ You whimpered. 

„You can. Cum for me. Cum for me and I’ll fill this little pussy up. Just the way you like it, baby….“ Joel moaned behind you. 

„Fuck,“ you moaned.

Within minutes (or seconds or hours you weren’t sure anymore) you were coming again, clenching Joel’s cock so hard he chocked on a groan, fucking into you a couple more times until he twitched inside of you and filled you with his cum. 

„Oh fuck,“ you felt his forehead rest against the back of your head. 

„Oh fuck indeed,“ Frank said and you looked at him. 

You were a sweaty tangled mess of limbs and you could not remember the last time you felt so… satisfied. 

Still trying to fill your lungs with air you hissed when Joel slowly pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping out of you. 

Humming, your eyes closed you snuggled into Joel’s chest, his arms around you and Frank hugging you both. 

You opened your eyes when you felt Frank move, giving you a shit eating grin as he slipped down the mattress, his face coming between your legs. You shuddered when you felt his tongue licking your pussy, cleaning you softly, humming like it was the most delicious meal. 

He pressed a kiss on your hip when he was finished, coming up to pull you close, leaning over your head to kiss Joel and then you. 

„That was….“ You began, trying to find words. 

„Should have done that sooner,“ Joel said and you chuckled. 

„Didn’t know that was an option,“ Frank said and you agreed. 

„Whatever my girl wants, she gets,“ Joel said, kissing your shoulder. 

You must have dozed of at some point, waking up cuddled against Joel’s chest, sheets covering your body. 

He was watching you. Joel had cleaned you up when Frank had said goodbye, not without telling him that it was time to get his head our of his ass and make things official with you. 

„Where’s Frank?“ You asked sleepily. 

„Left an hour ago. Told me to let you sleep,“ he whispered. 

You pouted. 

„Feel like I should have thanked him,“ you said and Joel chuckled. 

„You’ll see him next week. Bring him a fruit basked,“ he kissed your forehead. And you playfully slapped his chest. 

„Didn’t know you liked men too,“ you smiled. 

„What can I say? I’m full of surprises,“ he teased.

„Yes, yes you are,“ you sighed, kissing his chest. 

„Everything okay between us?“ You asked, half asleep. 

„Better than okay,“ he whispered just before you drifted back to sleep. 

A week later you were sitting at your desk in the trailer when the door opened and Joel walked in. He locked the door behind him and you grinned as he walked over. 

„Wanna have dinner with me tonight?“ He asked, as he walked over to you. 

„Like a date?“

„Like a date,“ he nodded, his hands coming to rest on your desk as he leaned towards you. 

„I’d like that,“ you whispered. 

„Great,“ he hummed, leaning down to kiss you softly. 

[dollysilena]

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER THREE | BABY ON BOARD

ao3 | series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu– now, present day– he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball’s biggest star.

wc & notes: 3.5k — this chapter was originally going to be 7k+ words, but for my own sanity during editing i decided to split it in two different chapters instead! i also thought it would be easier to read in separate chapters instead of just one really condensed one so pls forgive me 🗿

The past twelve hours had been a whirlwind for Miya Atsumu.

His day started late, but not out of his own fault! He swore it. It was just because his alarm clock didn’t go off. At least that’s what he told Coach Foster when he walked into practice late with a Starbucks frappuccino. But hey, at least he got one for everyone right? The team nutritionist yelled at him later for it because sugar wasn’t on the regiment, especially with the V-League season so soon. Hinata gladly slurped down the drink though, which consequently sent him into a sugar rush later. And once that happened, their coach chewed out Atsumu for the ginger’s erratic playing. It seemed like the scolding was neverending, but he shook it off as practice continued. He thought that the rest of the day was going to go on without any more hitches, up until he got a call from his brother. 

“She’s here right now with a kid. He’s four years old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like ya is a coincidence.”

The air stilled, and despite the clamor and ruckus of the gym around him, all Atsumu heard was the ringing in his ears and the silence on Osamu’s end. A kid?

There was no way. Osamu was just messing with him, right? It was just a prank, Suna or one of their friends probably put him up to it. There’s no way that… that he actually… He thought of you, something his mind hadn’t crossed paths with in awhile. You were just a girl who left him high and dry five years ago… without a word. He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t convinced, but something lurching in his stomach told him otherwise.

The denial didn’t stop Atsumu from abruptly running out of practice. He would deal with what the coaches had to say later.

FIVE YEARS AGO — INARIZAKI HIGH SCHOOL

“What’s up with ya?” Atsumu questioned, slumping down on the seat infront of your desk as he faced yours. “Yer acting funny, ya sick or something?”

Atsumu couldn’t care less about the fact he was bothering you in the middle of class, all he could think about is how weird you’ve been acting with him. He thought things were going good with you over the past few weeks, maybe a little too good considering you both… He shook it off. You’ve been acting odd all week, suddenly barely sparing him a glance. Despite the fact you both weren’t dating, he had to admit it was bugging him more than it should’ve.

“What makes you say that?” You responded, almost defensively. You didn’t look up from your math worksheet, and to anyone else, it would just look like you were focused on your work, but Atsumu knew you were distracted, you hadn’t moved from the same problem for over ten minutes. 

“Well, ya barely have been talking to me this week first of all,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And not to mention one of your friends told me you went home early yesterday because of food poisoning.” He didn’t mean to reveal that he had been asking around about you, but you didn’t seem to linger on it.

You fiddled with the pencil on your desk, clearly avoiding his eyes. “Why does it matter to you? It’s none of your business, Miya.”

Miya? Harsh.

“And here I thought ya liked me!” Atsumu replied, melodramatically clutching his chest as if he were wounded, albeit, his ego was admittedly a little bruised. “Of course what my girl does matters to me.”

You couldn’t help yourself from cracking a smile, and Atsumu considered it a victory. 

“We’re not even dating, we met a couple weeks ago,” you replied, shaking your head. 

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Though, you were right, you had never made anything official. It was all just harmless fun, right? 

“That didn’t seem to matter when we–”

“Be quiet!” you hissed in embarrassment. Atsumu smirked when he noticed how flustered you got. When you realized Atsumu wasn’t going to let up, you gave him another sigh. 

“I think I’m just not feeling well, probably a stomach bug or something.”

“Blegh!” Atsumu replied, sticking out his tongue. “Well don’t give it to me!”

You bore a small grin at him. Atsumu smiled back, happy that he was at least able to make you feel a little better that day.

He didn’t think that would be the last time he ever saw you.

He was going to walk you home that day and he even considered finally formally asking you out. Granted, he probably should have done that before the… bathroom incident, but he digressed. He went to your classroom later only to find your desk empty. Your classmates already said you left and he shrugged it off. He would just wait until the next day.

Then you were absent the next day, and the day after.

 It wasn’t until a whole week had passed where he felt himself starting to get worried.

You weren’t answering his texts, and after awhile, they didn’t even deliver anymore. He thought things were going well, at least to him they were… Whatever, he wasn’t going to let it get to him. If you didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so be it, it wasn’t his problem. People walked out on him all the time. He repeated it like a mantra, whatever, whatever, whatever.

But it doesn’t stop him from thinking.

As the days progressed, he felt himself plunging deeper into his doubtful thoughts.  You weren’t avoiding him on purpose were you? He didn’t realize how much it was getting to him until he missed practically every set during practice because he was too busy thinking of your smile at him instead of where Osamu’s hand was. He was tired of it, he finally decided he wasn’t going to wait for you to show up. He would get the answers himself.

Afterschool, he followed the trek to your house and stirred silently. Why was he even bothered this much about some girl he barely knew? You weren’t the first girl he was with, and he didn’t plan for you to be the last. So why was it bothering him so much? He wasn’t sure why, but it crept up his spine like a chill. 

Miya Atsumu isn’t someone you can leave, he’s always made sure of it. He’s never the one left behind. He doesn’t want to be. 

He stood on your doorstep, deliberating with himself if it was even worth it. But he didn’t come all this way for nothing. Even if you told him to get lost, atleast it would put an end to his endless lamenting. It would be better than having you plague him like a damn fever. He knocked.

He doesn’t expect your mother to answer.

“What do ya mean she moved?” Atsumu asked in disbelief.

“She’s gone to live with her grandmother in Kagawa,” your mother stated firmly. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing her anytime soon.”

Before Atsumu could pry for any other details, your mother spoke again.

“Don’t ever come back to this house.”

Then the door was slammed in his face.

PRESENT DAY

Despite his best attempts at staying in denial, he realized that all the signs were there. You were getting sick, avoiding him, your sudden disappearance. He should have known something was wrong when your mother forbade him from coming back without a reason. His mind was a flurry as he rushed through the streets of Osaka. The little voice in the back of his head that was saying it was impossible was getting flooded out, it was entirely too possible. 

In his rush inside Onigiri Miya, he was met with a body crashing into him. He looked down to see a horrified face infront of him, it’s yours. And in your arms, an unassuming boy that looked indisputably like him. A moment passed, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis. The panic seemed to be flooding out of your body and into the room. His mouth felt dry and whatever was spinning through his mind was suddenly a standstill. His gaze followed back to the boy, and his heart lurched.

There was no doubt about it, he had a son.

Even if you hadn’t told him, Atsumu could instinctively already tell, something in his gut just knew. He shared his smile, his brown eyes, and even his naturally dark hair that swept in the same way Atsumu’s did when he was that age. There was a piece of him out there, and he didn’t know all these years.

He barely choked out, “could we talk?”

While you both spoke at the table together, and as he gazed at Haru playing with Osamu and your friend not far away, he found himself wondering so many questions. What had Haru looked like when he was a baby? What was he like? Was he more energetic and lively like him? Or more quiet and reserved like his brother was? Was anyone there to help you through the pregnancy? What were his first words? Did he ever ask about him once he was old enough to understand what a father was?

“Atsumu, you realize what you’re asking right? You’re agreeing to be a father, which you just found out right now of all things. It’s a commitment, no take backsies.”

He knew he should’ve weighed the circumstances more, you were right after all, it was a commitment, a life-long one. Not to mention he barely found out an hour ago. Did he even know how to be a father? Infact, Atsumu hadn’t even considered kids in his life yet. He thought he had a long time before he thought he ever had to make that decision.

He thought about Haru, and how for years, he didn’t grow up with a father. His jaw hardened. Four years was too long for him to be absent. He couldn’t just… walk out. When he looked at Haru, he couldn’t possibly think of going on with living his life while knowing his son was out there. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

After your talk and once the situation was settled, atleast as much as it could be, Atsumu had offered to walk you home for the night. You decided to opt out of the company party you were attending for obvious reasons, and Naomi made sure to pass the news on to your boss about a “family emergency”.

 Now there he was, walking down the streets with his ex highschool fling, and his child. Whoever said life worked in unexpected ways, he wasn’t quite imagining this.

You both walked in silence, with Haru in your arms as he slept soundly. Atsumu wasn’t sure what to say, or if he even wanted to break the silence, so he kept quiet. Throughout the walk, he found himself stealing glances at you, and it felt as if he were meeting you all over again. You obviously weren’t the same girl he knew all those years ago. You held yourself up with a maturity he felt like he couldn’t match. Unlike him, sometimes he still felt like the clumsy kid he was in highschool. Maturity was something he always seemed to lack. His friends and brother always made sure to remind him of that whenever he behaved so. 

He looked down at Haru, still fast asleep. He imagined it was well past his bedtime now. You stifled a yawn as you carried the small boy, the tiredness seemed to be contagious. He saw your shoulders beginning to sag, and Atsumu realized you had been carrying him for the better portion of the walk.

“Here, let me take him,” he offered. “You’re tired.”

You looked up at him, with a raised eyebrow. “Have you held a kid before?”

He felt himself pause. Had he held a kid before? There were a few times at family reunions where he held the children of distant family members but that had all been for mere seconds before another family member scooped them up. He remembered how his mom was able to hold him and his brother at once for hours on end, how hard could it be?

“No, but I want to try seeing as I have one now.”

You laughed and extended Haru out to Atsumu, who gently took the boy as if he were made of porcelain. Haru shifted in his sleep, but comfortably adjusted into the setter’s arms.

He heard your laugh beside him and he immediately stiffened up. Had he done something wrong?

“He’s not a volleyball,” you chuckled, “hold him up from here.” You went to adjust Atsumu’s position and pushed up his arm so Haru’s weight could rest on it. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, apparently it was harder than he thought.

“Good,” you replied, patting his arm, and he had to stop himself from blushing when he felt your fingers brushing his arm. “Now just keep him there.”

Atsumu nodded as you continued your walk. It’s then that the thought hit him—when he was finally holding Haru in his arms—that he's his. 

His arms instinctively held Haru tighter. No, he couldn’t be doubtful now. There was too much on the line and too much time lost. Unlike the past four years, he swore that he would be there from now on, no matter what.

You both rounded the corner before you got to your apartment complex, a smaller building in the quieter part of the city. You both had lived here all this time, and he didn’t know. Had he ever walked down this street unknowingly?

“This is us,” you stated, gesturing to the building. He felt himself trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out. He just knew he didn’t want the night to end, there was still so much he had to know.

“Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pictures of Haru I could show you.” You asked, and it was like you read his mind.

“I would like that.”

He followed you inside and into the elevator where you led him to your apartment. You flicked on the lights and Atsumu glanced around. He looked around and saw Haru’s toys laying about, pictures of the two of you framed around the home, he even spotted Haru’s homework still strewn out on the coffee table. You both crept inside, careful to be quiet as to not wake Haru. You led him down a hallway and opened a door to what he presumed was Haru’s room, and ushered him inside. 

Atsumu carried the boy inside his room, and looked around. He saw his drawings framed along the walls, toys, stuffed animals, and noticed a volleyball near his toy trunk. He made a mental note to ask Haru about that later. He padded over to the bed, and set him down so he was laying. You came up beside him, and tucked the covers over him before kissing his forehead. 

He realized this was the first time he was putting his son to sleep. Was this what having a family was like?

You both quietly exited the room, making sure to close Haru’s door so he wasn’t disturbed by you both outside.

“I can make us some tea,” you said, as he nodded. He didn’t even really like tea, he was just glad he could stay. He followed you to the kitchen, where he took a seat at the kitchen island while you put the kettle on the stove.

“Is it just ya two here?” He asked, looking around. You had some pictures framed up, as well as some photographs hung on the fridge which he could see. But from what he could tell, it was only you, Haru, and sometimes Naomi in the photos.

“Yup,” you responded, pulling out two mugs from the cabinet above you. “Since Haru was born, really.”

Atsumu felt his heart in his stomach. “Even when ya were pregnant?”

Atsumu saw you still, and he hoped he didn’t open an old wound. He scolded himself for not being more sensitive, and letting his own curiosity get the better of him. 

“When I told my parents, they kicked me out,” you stated bluntly, putting the tea bags in the cups. “They sent me to live with my grandmother, who was amazingly supportive, but she died before Haru was born, so since then it was just us.”

Atsumu was silent, he wasn't sure what to say. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there? But that wasn’t enough, it didn’t change what you had to go through. The thought of you being in that delivery room by yourself only added onto the guilt on his shoulders, and his heart sank even further when he realized you had to do everything else alone too.

“Atleast Haru’s birth was quick!” You joked, a smile beaming on your face. Despite all that, you were still… positive? Atsumu was in disbelief, he probably couldn’t go through a fraction of what you had and still manage to put on a brave front. He always got into a mood, as Osamu called it, even at the smallest of inconveniences. You pushed a cup of tea towards him which he took graciously.

“Yer amazing,” he said in awe.

“It’s just tea,” you laughed, blowing on your cup. Atsumu shook his head.

“No,” he responded. “For everything. For what ya had to go through, and what you’ve done for Haru. And at eighteen? Osamu was still packing my lunches when I was that age.”

You laughed in response and it made his cheeks warm. He liked the sound, he thought.

“Let me get those photo albums I was talking about,” you said before walking into another room. You came back a few minutes later holding a few photo books.

 “Do you wanna start with the first one?” You asked, holding one out.

Atsumu eagerly nodded as he took the dusty blue album, decorated with ribbons and stickers. He could tell you had decorated it yourself. It showcased a picture of you holding a newborn Haru in the hospital. The picture almost made Atsumu frown, knowing you were by yourself that day, but he ended up smiling seeing how proudly you beamed holding the baby. He opened the book and inspected inside.

There was a sonogram of each phase Haru was in during your pregnancy, and eventually a few photos of Haru being born in the hospital. He saw the tiny notes you wrote besides the pictures, and his mouth grew agape when he saw 3.68kg written next one of Haru’s pictures.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, noticing his expression. “He was a big baby, I guess since his dad’s a pro athlete and everything.”

His face grew more horrified and he almost wanted to apologize. He apologize to his mom too considering she had twins. Then another picture caught his attention.

 “Hey, what’s this one?” He asked, pointing to another photo.

He pointed towards a picture that looked somewhat recent, he could tell since Haru seemed to be almost the same age in the picture as he was now. It was of you in a graduation cap and gown holding up Haru proudly who looked like he was cheering. It definitely wasn’t your high school graduation since Haru was in it.

“Oh, that’s when I graduated from university last year.”

“Ya completed university?” Atsumu asked in astonishment.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Pretty proud of myself. I was working two jobs and had to take night classes for a couple years but I ended up getting my degree finally a few months ago, then I got a great job at the firm I’m at now.”

No, you’re not just amazing, you’re phenomenal.

The rest of the night was filled with you and Atsumu looking over Haru’s pictures, some of his favorites being Haru’s second birthday where he had cake painted across his face from where he tried to eat his birthday cake face-first, his first day of preschool (which he found out he started this year), and one of you and Haru at a festival with matching daifuku in hand. He made a mental note to take you both when he saw how brightly you both smiled. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the photos, he was paying attention to you. He was getting to know you again.

“It’s getting late,” you yawned. “I have work tomorrow, and I probably have to explain why I missed the party tonight.”

Atsumu groaned. “That reminds me, I have to explain to my coaches tomorrow why I ran out of practice, they probably won’t believe me though.”

You giggled, before sliding out the picture of Haru’s second birthday from the book. “Maybe you can use this as proof.”

Atsumu took the photo and smiled warmly in the picture in his hands. The picture would find a well-loved home in his wallet, but would later be replaced with a picture of the three of you adorning matching jerseys on Haru’s eighth birthday at one of Atsumu’s games.

reblogs, comments, & asks are appreciated!

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[queenie-official]

Chapter Five: ‘A royal wedding’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4

a/n: sorry this took a while to get out guys😅 i was hanging out with my bestie since she was visiting home from college😋😋 anyways i ended up cutting most dialogue from this chapter just to focus on the emotional aspect- i hope you guys still enjoy 💅✨

a royal wedding was never a small affair for any kingdom. regardless of wether it was public or made private to the people, they would celebrate the conjunction of a happy couple. which seemed ironic considering most royal marriages where strictly out of politics rather than love. you of all people where very aware of the fact considering your situation. so here you are precisely three hours before the wedding pacing in your undergarments as poor Eleanora tries to help get you dressed.

Padme sat on a stool watching you work yourself into a frenzy, she’d already tried to get you to stop but it was futile. in the end you had managed to tune her out entirely to consumed in your own thoughts and worries to process the world around you.

“y/n if you don’t stop moving you’re going to have to show up to your wedding in your underwear” Padme tried once more to garner your attention. slowing to a stop you turn to look at her and then to Eleanora who had quickly seized action the moment you stopped and began putting on your pannier, fearing if she missed the opportunity you’d be a pacing mess again.

“sorry it’s just hard to sit still knowing that i’m going to be a married women in a few hours…” you sigh out still fidgeting slightly as you stood in place but at the very least Eleanora could work with that. Traditionally there would be five to ten bridesmaids with you right now but as much as you got along with your other ladies-in-waiting you didn’t exactly trust them, so it was just the two you knew you could count on most.

“it’s okay to be nervous i was nervous when i got married to my husband” Padme said in a attempt to make you feel less alone. “yes but you did not have the weight of two kingdoms relying on your marriage” you feel the weight of the day pull you down along with what felt like the thousands of layers you where now wearing. yet still Eleanora was not done as she continued to dress you, a wave of fear that you may pass out from how heavy the dress was rushed through you but you pushed it away feeling as if that would be one of the better outcomes of the day rather then some of the other scenarios your brain had come up with.

“i’ve been thinking about it all, what today is going to be like- what the rest of my life is going to be like…” you add running a hand through your hair that still has to be done. you honestly just wished for the day to be over, then you could rest and breath properly once more. free of stress even for just a moment.

“perfectly normal thing to do your majesty” Eleanora said as she finished the final touches of basting on your engageantes. “i just can’t help but feel like something is going to go wrong” you sigh looking down to your hand and staring at the ring that now weighed down your finger, it was a pleasant weight in your opinion. something about it brought a comfort to you, even if the only reason Anakin had given it to you was out of his mothers request. clearly he had thought it worth something to choose a diamond so personal to the place he was from- or maybe you where reading into it too much.

“there’s no sense in worrying about something that has yet to happen.” Padme counters as she and Eleanora both begin to work on your hair once you take a seat in front of your vanity, you were sat at a horrible angle. unable to sit properly with how tight the corset was, you quite literally could not bend. “i feel like i’ll be better prepared if i do” you say with a small pout to your lips that makes padme laugh. “it’s yet to help you thus far” she points out as you nervously twist the ring on your finger, the only thing you could really use to occupy yourself without moving too much. “maybe i just find comfort in worrying, that’s strange isn’t it?”

“i wouldn’t say strange but i also wouldn’t say it’s normal” well you certainly could always count on Padme for being honest. your whole body ached from the position you where in as pin after pin is inserted into your hair, ensuring that everything stay in place. “by the end of today i’m going to be a wife. that doesn’t even sound real”

“the sooner you are a wife the council will schedule the coronation and Alderaan will have a queen and king again” Padme says happily probably thinking that would make you feel better since you’d finally have the control over the council you needed but all it really did was make you cringe inwardly. “No pressure” you mumble as they finish and you can stand again, feeling just a smidge of relief not having the corset dig into you as much. looking over yourself in the mirror you did have to admit for as much as it was a pain the outcome was beautiful. the dress itself was a work of art, each layer having intricate lace detailing as well as pearls and ribbons sewn in- it reminded you of the porcelain dolls you played with as a child.

“you’ll do great y/n, and we’ll be by your side through it all” Padme said with a smile and you felt yourself relax. she was right you could do this, and if something did happen you knew you had people to fall back on.

less then any minute now and you would be walking down the isle of the church. You weren’t to be seen by anybody until then, that did little to help settle your nerves. Padme and Eleanora where now waiting with the rest of the ton inside the walls of the church, you had no one to voice your thoughts to. no one to help ease you, and you found yourself growing increasingly more nauseous. the heat of the day mixed with the weight of your gown did not make it any easier for you, the earlier fear of passing out coming back in a brief wave before you pushed it down.

there you stood in one of the private rooms awaiting for the Chancellor who’d be the one to walk you down the aisle. you hated it, that he’d be the one to walk you. it felt like a cruel joke in a way, he’d been the one to convince the rest of the royal council along with Barclay of the rash decision for Anakin to be the one you marry. and now here he was being the one to hand you off to him, as much as it irked you the thing that bothered you the most was solely the fact it wasn’t your father. honestly you’d finally accepted the fact this was truly happening but now there was a grief that surrounded it. mourning the fact your parents would not be there to see you.

twisting the ring on your finger, round and round. over and over- you had to admit this was much better than pacing. less effort for sure, less dizzying since you weren’t the one going in circles. circles that matched your thoughts, round and round. you take a deep breath the door to the room opening, turning round to face the Chancellor. you felt your throat dry as you nod to him.

now walking along the corridors of the church heading to the Nave. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and for a moment you thought you may actually pass out. thankfully the sound of trumpets and a piano rang throughout the building pulling you back down to reality. the doors in front of you now opening, you could only hope you didn’t look as sickly as you felt. “your majesty” Chancellor Valorum called your attention to him, glancing him over slightly confused only to notice his extended arm. right, it was time- you take hold and force a smile hoping you looked happy enough for everyone to believe you.

you look ahead of you as you both begin walking down the aisle, finally meeting the eyes of your soon to be husband. he stood tall, and was probably dressed the best you’d ever seen him so far- though it’s not like you saw him much to begin with. you decided it best to focus solely on him, the smile on your face becoming a bit more genuine. you may not know him personally yet but you could still admire his looks- it felt a bit wrong initially like you weren’t supposed to like how he looked. as if it would diminish the fact you didn’t see him as a lover, though you guessed you should probably change that line of thinking anyway.

he was truly handsome, nice jawline. pretty eyes, curls that you felt added a boyish charm to him. and then there was his smile, you hadn’t even realized you focused in on it as you now stood before him. his hand extended for you to take so the ceremony could begin. his smile was warm and soft, it calmed you. gently taking his hand as you stand side by side now, facing one another head on. you move your gaze up meeting his eyes, soft blues that where already staring down at you. selfishly you allow yourself to get lost in them, tuning out the world around you not even listening to what the Archbishop spoke.

the only thing that reminded you of where you were and what you where doing was the sound of Anakins voice. “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” he recited the vows the archbishop had just told him which meant it was now your turn. half listening to what the archbishop said before he gave you the very same vows to repeat, nodding to let you know to go. “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” you say with a surprising confidence, you turn your face away from Anakin’s for the first time since the ceremony began.

now looking towards the archbishop as he closed the ceremony. a new ring added to both of your fingers, a wedding band.

Warmth and music, that’s all you felt as you danced a waltz with Anakin. you were actually having fun, he made it easy in all honesty. conversation between you both was flowing naturally and he made you laugh- you where pretty sure he enjoyed making you laugh. there was of course the voice in the back of your head that reminded you it was all for show. that you where both only acting like two people in love for the hundreds of eyes on you. part of you could only hope that at the very least a little bit of it was real, something small and budding that might have a chance of flourishing.

you refocus on the man in front of you, not wanting to sour a good moment with your concerns. allowing him to dance you both into a stupor, song after song. paying no one else a mind, regardless of the situation this day was about you two. a joyous occasion, and for once you did not need to think about anyone else but yourself and each other- for once you did not feel the weight of a kingdom on your shoulders. instead you felt like a normal girl from the ton dancing with a man who had simply asked for a dance, a dance that lasted for hours. of course all good things have to come to an end, and eventually your endless dance came to a halt.

you both walk hand in hand outside along the carpet preparing to speak to each guest at the ball and bid them their farewells. it was a little chilly but as it happened Anakin ran warm, and with him alongside you the chill of the night bothered you no longer.

part 6

Tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss

@bimbo-baggins86 @bby-imasociopath

okay loves🤭 i hope you enjoyed this one, i know the ball scene was a bit short but don’t worry this will not be the only Ball, and the next time there is one it will include a lot more 😋 i just wanted to focus mostly on the wedding portion and didn’t want to draw to far away from that 💋💋 anyways have a great day huns Xx

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I accidentally came into work early, whoops, not my fault tho because my boss refuses to make my schedule normal. He used to have me work 6am-4pm on Sundays, which is a nightmare but whatever. But I checked my schedule today and realized I was scheduled to come in at 7am. I could've had an extra hour of sleep. I could've. But it means I get to go home an hour earlier than I thought!

But. I haven't done anything today. Not a thing. Sunday is our slowest day, there have been less than ten customers in the two hours I've been here so I've just been on my phone. I did Duolingo for a bit, now I'm on Tumblr. I'm getting paid to learn Spanish and waste my life on social media. This is delightful.

[aziraphales-library]

I *love* any fics where Crowley is hurt incredibly bad and Aziraphale must save him or bring him back to health. I also LOVE fics that delve into trauma or mental health which stripes the characters of their mask and they must rely on someone/each other. Do you have any recommendations for fics that are either, or both? Happy endings are a major must for me, but I am open to any suggestions!

You'll want to check our #crowley whump, #hurt crowley, and #protective aziraphale tags for loads of fics like this. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before, but mind the tags on all of these!...

Where's My Mind? by ebullience24 (T)

See, the thing is: Crowley is tall. His height had caused a few stares back in the days where the tallest man stood at five foot five. And, because of his height, one might be inclined to describe him as slender with spindly fingers and snake-hips. The pun is never intended on that last one but it stands true nonetheless. And Crowley would be likely to agree with these statements: he is tall and slender and spindly and snake-hipped. But what Crowley would be less likely to agree upon is the statement that he, Anthony J Crowley, is underweight. OR: Crowley has an eating disorder. Trigger Warnings now and at the beginning of each chapter.

Safe Haven by McRaider (T)

When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?

To Speak the Unspoken by ihamtmus (T)

“Uhhhh… Hi,” Crowley started lamely, scrambling to find a way to explain the situation as quickly as possible. His mind was refusing to work properly, thoughts slow as if doused in oil. He hadn’t really thought about what to say on his way here – he’d been too busy focusing on the getting here part before he would collapse. “I was wondering if I could… If I could maybe die in here, if you don’t mind..?” The expression on Aziraphale’s face changed abruptly, telling him that the angel did, in fact, mind. (In which a mortally wounded demon just wants to get somewhere quiet to die but his Adversary will have none of it. A story of how they both learn just how much they care.)

Death in Love by Aspirina_Effervescente & Cyanidechan (M)

After tempting a composer to fame and success, Crowley is cursed by his wife and tormented by her ghost until the end of his days. Aziraphale would do anything to save him, the only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on and, anyway, the problem could be much more complicated than it seems. Inspired by Giuseppe Tartini’s Sonata “the Devil’s trill”

Drops of Sorrow by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Ten years after the failed Apocalypse, Crowley is captured by Heaven. Gabriel plans to use him as bait to lure Aziraphale into a fight. Can Crowley survive captivity, and will Aziraphale be able to rescue him without walking into the trap?

A Touch of Heaven by IneffableToreshi (E)

A despondent and defeated Crowley has been through the ringer, moreso even than his roommate, Newt, realizes. After a car accident puts him though a number of surgeries and a temporary - but terrifying - few weeks of blindness, the club owner wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and refuse to move until things return to normal...or as normal as they'll ever be again. Newt - and his cafe-owning girlfriend, Anathema - have other plans. They think that Crowley just needs some care and pampering, so Anathema schedules him a special, off-hours appointment with a friend of hers who is a rather sought-after masseur. Crowley is hesitant and stubborn, but Aziraphale's soothing voice and comforting nature soon win him over, in more ways than one...

- Mod D

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part nine

Words: 571 | Rating: E (mostly parts 1 & 2, but also future parts) | CW: no warnings this time! except Steve's continued bad time

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Turning twenty-one is supposed to be big and fun and momentous. Or at least that’s what everyone’s always told Steve, but he thinks it’s off to a rather crummy start actually. Surely that means it can only go up from here, right?

Except that part where it absolutely doesn’t do that. If anything, Steve finds his luck getting worse and worse. From missing his bus to losing his wallet to dropping his phone, it feels like one little thing after another little thing, and quite frankly he’s sick of it. If he didn’t know better, he’d blame Eddie.

But the thing is, Steve’s always kind of had awful luck, so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his own. It doesn’t make him feel better about Eddie just always being there, though.

“Are you absolutely sure you can’t just fuck off for like an hour?” Steve asks exasperatedly and for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Trust me,” Eddie deadpans in return, looking just as annoyed as Steve feels which only serves to make him bristle more, “if I could leave for any length of time, I would. But I get dragged back here any time I try.”

If Steve were less annoyed, he might feel sorry for Eddie. Something about a lack of freewill makes him sad, angry, upset? He’s not sure. But Eddie’s annoying, so Steve can’t bring himself to feel bad for anyone but himself. He’s never done well with being annoyed.

“What if you talk to whoever the hell is in charge of you or whatever?” Steve suggests, not for the first time in the week they’ve known each other. “Surely they can give you some kind of away time.”

Sighing like the weight of the world is bearing down on his shoulders, Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t get to her if I can’t leave. And I can’t take you with me, so we’re just gonna have to figure out how to get along.”

It’s the same response Steve always gets, but that doesn’t make it any less grating. Steve wants to be alone. Preferably for a long time while he processes the disaster that was the morning after his birthday. Shoving it down, pretending nothing happened because he doesn’t want Eddie (or anyone else) to see how much it’s upset him, can’t work forever.

This time, though, a thought strikes Steve and he frowns in thought. “What if you tried your weird magic shit?” he asks. “You cleaned up a murder scene with it. Surely you can use it to allow me to be alone for a while?”

Mentioning the murder scene to someone other than himself leaves Steve grimacing, but it’s the reality of things. It also brings him that much closer to a breakdown, but he keeps it held back. He always does when the memory tickles at the edges of his brain, which is alarmingly often the longer he dwells on it.

Eddie frowns in thought, expression matching Steve’s as he considers the suggestion. “I don’t think it would hurt to try,” he allows after a few moments. “Not optimistic, but we don’t seem to need many angelic miracles right now so…”

Which Steve disagrees with, but he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he just watches Eddie, watches as the blinding light fills the room just like it had all the times before, and when it clears Eddie is gone.

Steve is alone.

As always, tags below the cut. Let me know if you want added!

@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddiee @penny00dreadfull @momotonescreamingg @stevesbipanicic @dawners @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth @sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle @goodolefashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 10/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

PART TEN

                Jake knows being annoyed with his mom is unreasonable, but a part of him also just can’t help it, she’s an annoying person hell-bent on making him do something he’s been putting off. God, he can never tell her that he’s had Bradley’s phone number for over a year, she’ll never let him live it down. It’s Wednesday morning now, so he has three days, assuming she doesn’t change her mind on the timeline. Now that he’s had two proper full-night’s sleep his brain feels less like it’s been put through a grinder and sat in pickle juice for days on end. He’s also feeling like he’s adjusting back to the right time after a couple of weeks skipping through time zones and continents for the promotional tour.

                He’d spent a fair amount of time last night lying in bed mulling over the fact that Bradley has been here for over two weeks, has met both his parents and cousin Freddie and Uncle Andy. Not all of the cowhands have watched him grow up, but a few did. He’s definitely met all of the current ones more than once. His other aunts and uncle all live in surrounding farms and ranches, his parents ranch the main central point geographicalluy, which is why they had based so many of the key building developments here. So the chance of Bradley having met several more members of his extended family are alarmingly high. He has no idea what he was thinking when he suggested this ranch as a potential location.

                He goes down to the kitchen, only to find it empty and he guesses the welcome wagon is well and clearly gone, now that he’s been home a whole twenty-four hours. Then his not-tired brain kicks in and he realizes that if his mom isn’t here then she’s likely in the mess hall, talking to people. He scrambles through getting dressed and then dithers over riding Blitzen or taking a car, but seeing his dad pottering around in the family stable decides it for him and by the time he steps into the stable his dad has already got Blitzen saddled up, is looking amused and no doubt his mom has talked his ear off.

                “Good luck today,” his dad says, slapping his shoulder.

                “Did mom tell you?” Jake asks, double checking the tightness and running his hands over Blitzen, stroking her nose so she can smell him and he smiles when she snorts and licks him.

                “I meant with the first day of filming. But yes, the other thing too I guess.”

                “Right. Okay. Yeah,” he says, sucks in a breath. “Thanks dad.”

                It’s still early, not even seven, although he’s got makeup at eight, so he doesn’t have a heap of time, and now that he thinks more, he’s got work, which means his time to actually talk to Bradley before his mom’s ridiculous ultimatum isn’t actually three days, but more like a few hours of spare time, which isn’t very much all, because he doubts his free time and Bradley’s free time are going to overlap. The ride between his parents house and the main buildings isn’t even ten minutes at a walk, and he does take it at a walk, despite the urge to suddenly just ride away at speed. He’s not a teenager anymore, although no doubt his mother would argue differently.

                Of course, when he leads Blitzen into the stable Bradley is there, brushing down Buttercup and talking to her under his breath and he doesn’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed. There is going to be the ghost of Bradley Bradshaw on his family ranch for years regardless of whether anything happens between them or not. He’s not prepared to see him, hasn’t thought about what he wants to say, what he can say. Fuck.

                “You’re up early. Already gone for a ride huh?” Bradley asks, gesturing toward Blitzen with his head and Jake reaches for her and begins taking off the saddle and bridle, hanging it in one of the empty stalls.

                “Just a short one. I miss it when I’m in Hollywood,” he admits.

                “You seem pretty at home here…” Jake gives him a sharp look, wonders if he knows. It’s not exactly a secret, it’s even meant to be part of the promotional PR for the film, the whole city boy returned to his roots and finds romance while saving his family ranch. “I figure you grew up near here, everyone seems to know you.”

                Jake blinks.

                Somehow, despite being here for over two weeks, Bradley hasn’t made the connection that this is Jake’s home. He feels a little inkling of amusement and wonders if this is how his mom feels when she’s telling him that he’s smart and yet somehow a dumbass at the same time.

                “What do you think of it?”

                “The ranch?”

                “Yeah,” Jake says, because that’ll do as a nice safe starting point.

                “It’s like a well-oiled machine. I can’t begin to imagine what work needs to happen, but everyone seems to know what needs to be done and just gets on and does it. I didn’t realize we’d be filming on such a large working ranch, it’s pretty amazing to see.”

                “And the land?”

                “Well, I’m a city boy, grew up thinking nothing could beat the lights of Hollywood. But got to say the night sky out here is beautiful.”

                “Hmm,” Jake hums, because he agrees, still enjoys going out camping just to get away from as much light pollution as possible and spend the time staring up at the night sky and a part of him wants to extend an invitation to Bradley to do that, wants to do that with him.

                “I’ll let you get to breakfast, I’m heading out for my own early morning ride. I’ll see you later.”

                “Yeah, sure. Enjoy your ride.”

                He watches Bradley leave, is still watching him when Bradley turns his head to look back at him and instead of looking away Jake just raises his hand in a wave of acknowledgement.

                Baby steps.

PART ELEVEN

[storiesofsvu2-0]

Translucent

Alex Blake x reader Warnings: language, smut, teasing, masturbation, guided masturbation, sex toys, minor degradation, very brief choking. a/n: Covers a bingo square! and a req from @rustyzebra I’m gonna be posting from this blog either permanently or until the other one gets un-shadow banned. I don’t know why or how or how long that will take, my guess is that it’s got something to do with the community labels? That being said, this is under said label, so that this blog doesn’t get shadow banned. So make sure you have your settings set appropriate to see what you want and so you don’t miss any future stories. (Eta: apparently theres no winning. I post with a label, it wont show in the tags. I post without & risk getting shadowbanned. Hellsite.) Also if you see this and you’re writing for bingo, pls tag this account as the other one basically has no access anymore (hopefully temporarily).

Nobody was having a good time on this case and that was evident, everyone hyper focussed to make sure you could get the hell out of there and back home as fast as possible. The team had been back in DC less five hours when Hotch called to reroute everyone back to the jet, you’d only had time to toss laundry in and get ready for date night before it was time to grab you go bag. You changed on the jet, cursing yourself when you realized you’d forgotten to toss in what you called your work bra, at least your shirts were thick.

The grumpy moods continued as you deplaned in a small town in Texas, quickly jumping into the field to trace down a team of unsubs. You were in the field with Emily when you managed to apprehend the unsubs and when one of them jumped into lake with the hopes of getting away on the boat moored ten feet up you were the one that was a second faster. Your swimmer instincts taking over as you dove into the lake and caught up to them before they even realized you were in the water. Emily muttered something about owing you coffee for the next month and you made your way back to the local precinct, one unsub in tow. You’d left your vest on in an attempt to not get the chills on the way back, thankful that Emily had tuned on the heat in the SUV. Passing off the unsub to be processed the two of you crossed the building back to the meeting room you’d been using, joining JJ and Morgan.

“Woah, someone take a break for a swim?” Derek greeted with a tease and you shot him a glare, Emily answering for you.

“We’re lucky she did, unsubs in custody.”

“Our guy’s in the wind.” JJ replied with a sigh and the entire room felt the frustration sink in.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You grumbled, half of your brain regretting diving into the lake, wondering if it had really been that worth it.

With a huff you ripped at the Velcro on your vest, pulling it off over your head to toss onto a spare chair. You could feel your clothes clinging to you, soaked with lake water, at the very least you were thankful you hadn’t been wearing jeans and that your make up was waterproof.

“So what’re we looking at?” You asked, crossing you arms over your chest and the conversation rerouted back to the case at hand. Everyone was more than eager to at least get back to the hotel for some rest and a solid lead would help that.

It was almost a full half hour later that Alex returned to the room from talking to a witness, Reid half a foot behind her. You had your back to the door as you updated the white board when Alex’s voice caught your attention and you capped the marker, turning around to them and Reid’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Oh my god, y/n!” He was whipping off his FBI jacket instantly, moving to get it wrapped around you and at first you thought it was just because you were still drenched, but the smirk on Emily’s lips told you otherwise.

“What? I—” Glancing down you realized your misstep. Laundry day plus date night meant you were still in date night lingerie. Lingerie that was deep red, lacy, a hint of mesh that left very little to the imagination and thanks to your little dip earlier, completely visible to everyone in the room through your shirt. “Could’ve said something.” You scowled to the three who’d been there when you took off the vest, hands clutching at the jacket seams in an attempt to keep it closed.

“Didn’t wanna get in trouble for looking.” Derek muttered, his gaze on the file in front of him.

“Pretty sure I was with you when you bought that one.” Emily smirked in return and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to Alex.

Her head tilted, eyes flicking down you body, watching the way your shirt clung to your skin before she cocked a brow at you, her jaw hardening and you couldn’t help but gulp. While she always was a wonder with words, you were at the point in your relationship that you could communicate without them and she was making her point very clear right now. Alex could feel the arousal building deep within her already, annoyed that the case had taken away the opportunity to see you in whatever set matched the now very visible bra. Though, she wasn’t complaining about how erotic this was, on display for everyone to see. She felt the possessiveness surge through her, her eyes narrowing in your direction until you properly fixed the jacket so you were covered, you knew better, something like that was only for her to see.

You felt the heat creeping up the back of your neck, knowing exactly what Alex was thinking, that you were hers and only hers, even if the team didn’t know it. Daring to look her in the eye you felt your pulse quicken, knowing that she was thinking of all the dirty things she’d seen you do, all the dirty things she’d made you do and just how she was going to remind you who you belonged to later. You were aware that the conversation had picked back up in the conference room but there was no way you were hearing any of it, lost to the sinful imagination of one Alex Blake. Suddenly, Emily swatted at you with a folder and you were pulled out of your dirty thoughts, glancing toward her.

“What?”

“I said go back to the hotel. You jumped in a lake, you caught an unsub, I think you deserve a shower and a change of clothes, we won’t be much longer.”

“Yeah… thanks.” You nodded at her before crossing through the room and Alex’s eyes didn’t leave your body once, her lips pursed tight.

*

By the time you were warmed up, out of the shower and wrapped in a surprisingly fluffy robe, Alex was already back in the hotel room waiting for you. She stood from the bed when the bathroom door opened, a smirk on her lips as she sauntered through the room toward you. Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your eyes up to her.

“You pulled quite the little stunt today sweetheart. Wearing that kind of lingerie to work?”

“I didn’t have time to change.” You countered.

“You changed on the jet.”

“I forgot to pack another bra.”

“Sounds like someone’s making excuses.” She tutted, pinching at your chin, “were you feeling like a naughty slut today? Did you want the entire team to see what you were wearing under your shirt, because I’m starting to think that you did. Be a little show off, let them know how much of a bad girl you are?”

“No ma’am.” You murmured, “it was an accident.”

“Hmm.” She surveyed you for a moment, “I’m not sure I believe you. I do know how much you like to make it all about you, how much you love putting on a good show when you bounce on my cock. So how about you take off that robe, get on the bed and be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Your hands swiftly undid the belt of the robe, letting it fall open and Alex’s eyes dragged down your naked body, darkening as they went, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When you dropped the robe to the floor her finger and thumb pinched at your chin, rewarding you with a kiss, her lips moving gracefully against your own before she nudged you toward the bed.

You dropped onto it, shuffling upwards until you were comfortable among the pillows, looking down to Alex who simply arched a brow in return as she slipped out of her blazer. Trying not to gulp, you spread your legs for her, opening yourself up to her burning gaze.

“How long were you in that room with your vest off? Hmm?”

“Not sure…” you could feel your breath picking up already with just her eyes on you, wondering exactly what she had planned. She frowned in your direction, hands moving down the center of her shirt as she undid the buttons, “maybe… half hour?”

“Well, then you’ve got half an hour to kill.” She shrugged, adding the folded shirt to the pile on the other bed, “better get yourself warmed up since you were in the mood to show off.”

It was only after a small nod from her, confirming that she was okay with you touching that your hand slid down your body slowly. You kept your eyes trained on Alex as she pulled a chair to the foot of the bed, pausing to strip out of her pants before she took a seat in it, her gaze landing between your legs.

“Timer doesn’t start until you do sweetheart.” She smirked and you let out a breath, your head falling back into the pillows.

Half an hour was going to be torture and you knew it, then again, that was the point wasn’t it? Your hand snuck between your legs, making sure they were nice and wide for Alex to see what you were doing. Your fingers brushed against your clit, slowly beginning to rub at it in small circles.

“That’s my good girl.” Alex cooed from the end of the bed, soft grin on her cheeks as her eyes darkened.

You took a deep breath, knowing that your time had just started, your fingers slipped down to your cunt, gathering some of your wetness and bringing it back up to your clit, continuing to rub at it slowly. Your breath hitched, your hips gently rocking toward the touch and you heard Alex chuckle. You continued on like that, wanting to drag it out as long as possible to kill the time until you uncontrollably moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed.

“I can see you glistening from here.” Alex mused, “why don’t you see how wet you really are? My dirty girl…”

“Please?” You whined, your eyes cracking open to look down at her with a pout on your lips and she laughed.

“Oh sweet girl, it’s only been four minutes.”

“But—”

“Ah!” She scolded, “did you want me to restart the timer?”

“No ma’am.” You pouted, your hands returning to your body.

One groped at your chest, pinching your nipple between your finger and thumb, repeating the action on both sides until both were hard peaks. Your other hand slunk between your legs again, heel of your hand brushing on your clit and you whined before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt.

“Oh god…” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s my girl.” She praised with a happy hum.

Your fingers began thrusting into your cunt, pulling out more wetness with each pump of your hand, slow and steady, ready to wait out the clock Alex had set. Your breathing picked up, little whines and whimpers leaving your lips as you felt the heat begin to build deep within your body. You shivered when the tips of your fingers briefly brushed across the sensitive spot of your walls, a moan leaving you and Alex hummed again.

“Why don’t you try that move again? I know how good it must feel.”

Knowing better than to defy Alex’s requests at this point your fingers sunk back in, curling right where you knew it would feel incredible and you let out a moan.

“Fuck…”

“There you go. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” You moaned, unable to control yourself as your fingers curled again, brushing against the spot and you pressed harder, your breath catching in your throat.  Your hips rocked up off the bed and you could feel yourself getting wetter, juices starting to dribble out of you as you picked up the pace.

“You may come darling.” Alex purred, “but if you do that doesn’t mean you’re done, you still have seventeen minutes.”

“S..so good..” You moaned, fingers thrusting deeper into you with each flick of your wrist, you were so incredibly close, your pussy fluttering around your fingers. It was never going to be enough, you knew that, but at least for the time being you could sit on the edge of the peak, hoping that there was a chance you’d be able to fall over it. Your noises were getting louder, including the wet sounds coming from your pussy, juices coating your fingers and slipping down to your wrist. Your free hand moved back to your chest, pinching at your nipples again in hopes that it would help you see stars. At this point you were scarcely aware of the sound of movement from the foot of the bed until Alex let out a breathy moan and your eyes shot open.

She had her legs spread in the chair, her hand in her underwear as it moved lazily underneath the fabric, when your breath caught in your throat her eyes cracked open, a grin on her cheeks as she noticed you watching, your own hand stilled.

“What can I say? I like what I see.” She smirked, “and look at what you’re doing to me already?” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly and you could hear her wetness as she slipped a finger into her pussy.

“Fuck…”

“Keep going sweetheart.” She nodded at you, “how about you spread that pussy nice and open for me, let me see how gorgeous you are?”

“Yes ma’am.” Your fingers slid out, your palm rubbing at your cunt briefly as you ground down on it, letting out a small moan before it slid up, fingers framing your pussy lips and pulling them apart. Alex let out a hum of approval, her mouth watering at the way it was absolutely shimmering in the low light of the hotel room.  

“So fucking gorgeous.” She groaned, “I’ll admit though, it does look prettier stuffed with my cock, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” You cried back in response and she chuckled.

“Shame. Your fingers will have to do. Twelve minutes left.”

You let out a whine but slipped your fingers back into your pulsing cunt, eyes scrunching shut as you began to fuck yourself again.

Alex sighed softly, the tips of her fingers grazing her g-spot right as you let out a moan and she pulled her fingers out, returning to lazily rubbing her clit while she watched the way your body trembled every so often. You were absolutely soaking, practically every thrust of your hand pulled a whimper from your mouth and if she wasn’t so heart set on punishing you she would’ve wanted to devour you in that moment. You always looked so fucking hot for her, but especially when you were fucking yourself, imagining that it was her fingers thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy. Her teeth sunk into her lip when her fingers pressed harder onto her clit and with a soft moan her fingers slipped back into her pussy.

“Are you close sweetheart?” She asked, her voice low and husky, words split by breathy sighs.

“Need more.” You whined in response and she chuckled darkly, the laugh morphing into a moan as her fingers curled inside her cunt.

“Just keep going.” She urged, feeling the heat building within her, she resisted the urge to let her eyes close, staying focussed on the movement between your legs instead, groaning at the sounds coming from you as you fucked yourself faster. The heel of her hand began to grind against her clit with each thrust of her fingers and she arched forward, her thighs tensing as she cried out, her orgasm hitting her.

The sound was almost enough to get you where you wanted… almost. Instead you were left letting out a frustrated whine, pulling your fingers from you with an annoyed huff.

“Please!”

“Please, what?” Alex asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“Need more.” You grumbled and she glanced to the clock.

“Nine minutes left darling, then I’ll touch you.”

“What about a toy?” You pouted.

“I didn’t happen to bring one of those.” She shrugged, watching you carefully and she caught the way your eyes looked toward your go bag, lingering on it for a moment as you tugged your lip into your mouth. Her head tilted in curiosity and it was when she stood that your eyes darted back to her.

The blush crept up your cheeks as you watched her silently move through the room to the bag. She swiftly unzipped it, her hands sifting through its contents until she found what she was looking for, revealing the double sided dildo and she looked toward you with a brow raised.

“Really? You have the time to pack this, but not an appropriate bra?” Her voice hardened slightly, in a tone that you knew was practically a tease and you resisted covering your face with your hands. “I almost think I shouldn’t let you use it.”

“No! Please!” You cried out, tears of frustration pooling into your eyes, “I need it. Or you.” You pouted, and Alex’s face softened.

“Oh you sweet thing.” Grinning she approached the foot of the bed, “you’ve become so spoiled you can’t make yourself come anymore, is that it?” You nodded, your cheeks feeling hotter than any part of your body as you admitted it. You started to shift to close your legs, suddenly feeling very exposed but Alex’s free hand closed around your ankle.

“Ah.” She tutted, “absolutely none of that. You don’t get to act like an exhibitionist all day just to play shy now.” She dropped the toy on the bed beside your hand, “eight minutes left. You best make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, your hand darting out for the toy, picking it up. You watched for a moment as Alex’s eyes darted from it to your lips and you smiled coyly at her.

Instead of instantly bringing it to your fluttering pussy, you brought the larger end of the toy to your lips, easily wrapping around it, moaning as you sunk it into your mouth. You sucked hard, tongue swirling around it’s girth until drool was practically leaking out of your lips and Alex’s breath was catching in her throat at the sight. Pulling it from your mouth with a pop you let out a gasp of breath, quickly moving the toy to your cunt.

“Seven…” Alex stated, her hands closed around your calves, spreading them as wide as she could on the bed, kneeling between them as she watched the way you slid the dildo into you with a satisfied moan.

You were finally stretched out, finally feeling Alex’s fingers on your skin and you almost felt like you could burst.

“Fuck…” You groaned, feeling your cunt pulse around the toy as you fucked it deeper into you, aching to hit your peak. Your head dropped back into the pillows as your eyes scrunched shut, your thighs slowly starting to shake with each push of the toy.

“So pretty when you fuck yourself darling. I should make you do this more often.” Alex cooed, her hands suddenly left your body but you were too far gone to care, not realizing she was ridding herself of her bra, beginning to cup at her chest. “be louder for me, how does that feel?”

“So good… fuck!” You panted, fire burning just under your skin, “but need more…”

“Dirty girl…” she chuckled, “what ever shall we do with you?” You felt her weight shift from the bed and your eyes cracked open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips once more as your hand nearly stilled between your legs, stalling your orgasm once more.

“Just wanna come…”

“I know sweet girl.” She squeezed at your leg before her hands slipped into the waist band of her panties and she pulled them down your leg, “but that toy has double uses… you’re going to come while riding my cock, understand?”

“Yes!” You practically shrieked, earning a laugh from Alex as she crawled over you.

You let out a very satisfied moan as she leant over you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, her tongue surging into your mouth to silence your noises. Her skin was hot on yours, rubbing against your aching nipples, her hands ghosting up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their paths. Her teeth sunk into your lip and you whimpered, your hips rocking up toward her, the toy brushed her pussy and she broke the kiss with a breathy gasp.

“Oh that does feel good.” She husked, smirking down at you before her lips attacked your neck, kissing at the supple skin before her teeth bit down hard and you gasped. “Need to leave a mark sweetheart. A nice big one if I have my way.” Her tongue swiped over your skin, “make sure the entire team knows that you really are a little dirty girl, that it’s not all for show. Because you’re not a tease, now are you?”

“N..no.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around the toy when her teeth sunk into your skin, her mouth sucking the crook of your neck and you could feel yourself building back toward your peak.

As if Alex could sense it, she bit your neck again, tongue darting out to soothe the burn when you hissed in pain, kissing the spot softly before her and snuck between your bodies to line the toy up with her cunt. She let out a low moan as she sunk down onto it, and you mewled when the base between the two sides bumped at your clit once she was fully seated. She firmly wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you tight to her and rolled over, pulling you on top of her. Alex kissed you, tongue swiping into your mouth once more before she pulled back, pushing at your shoulders with a wild gleam in her eye.

“Well, go ahead. Make yourself come all over my cock like the good dirty girl you are.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You braced your hands on her waist, raising your hips up to begin to bounce on her cock, breathless moans leaving your lips with each time your hips met hers, the toy pressing against your clit with each thrust. Alex’s hands slid up your thighs, her touch sending sparks flying through your body, she groped at your ass, squeezing you, urging you to ride her harder, faster, making the toy move within her more, the base rubbing her clit just as she wanted.

“Feels good,” she panted, “doesn’t it sweetheart?”

“S- soo good.” You whined back, “m’ so close…” With each pump of your hips her cock grazed right over the sensitive spot in your pussy, your walls pulsing around it, juices slicking it with wet. The coil in the pit of your stomach returned fire prickling under your skin and heat soared through you. “Oh god… oh god…”

“That’s it… come for me sweet girl.” Alex cooed, one of her hands slid up your body, fingers delicately wrapping around your neck, thumb nail pressing into the mark she’d left earlier and you gasped.

Your hips began to move more erratically as you chased your release, feeling yourself right on the brink. You were about to open your lips to beg, but Alex could always read you like a book, her free hand moving between your legs where she began to rub circles on your throbbing clit. Electricity shot through you and you cried out, your eyes scrunching shut as white took over your vision, your body trembled, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you finally hit your high. Your hands dug into Alex’s sides, nails scratching at her skin while you shuddered, your hips stilling when she finally let up on your clit.

“Good girl.” She purred, letting go of your throat, her hands rubbing up and down your sides, guiding you to gently drop over her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Always so gorgeous.” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers tracing patterns on your back while you slowly came back to earth to catch your breath. “You feel better now sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You murmured, lips brushing against her skin and she gently hoisted you off her, tossing the toy to the bedside table to be dealt with later.

“You think you’ve learnt your lesson? No more showing off what’s mine to everyone else, right?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded and Alex smiled.

“Good.”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the already purpling mark in the crook of your neck, it was high enough she knew you wouldn’t be able to cover it tomorrow. Even if you got slightly embarrassed, there would be no mistaking by anyone on the team, you were very much spoken for.

_____________

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[seresinsbabe]

Conveniently Yours 7

pic is not mine it's from pinterest

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

Synopsis: In a desperate attempt to pay for your mom's cancer treatment you take a job as a dancer at one of NYC's prestigious strip clubs where you meet Jake Seresin who just happens to need a wife.

Warnings: Mentions of cancer, cancer treatment and cancer treatment.

Word count: 3.3k

THIS BLOG AND ITS FICS ARE 18+! MINORS DNI!

I do not consent to having any of my work shared on any other platform. If you see any rendition of my works on another site know that it has been posted without my permission.

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You stared at the shockingly white cooked chicken being carried by a waiter who looked like he was one shitty customer away from setting this place on fire. These five star, Michelin rated restaurants were something you didn’t think you would ever be able to get used to. You were used to restaurants that had lunch time deals and happy hours. Not restaurants that served foie gras on a bed of summer greens with a delightfully sweet raspberry glaze. Whatever the fuck that meant.

“What’s with these upscale places and their aversion to seasonings? That chicken was paler than a cloud.” Jake coughed on his drink as he tried to fight a laugh. His fist covered his mouth as his eyes looked up to find you leaning over the table so you could whisper your query. There was the slightest lop-sided grin on your lips and a bit of mischievous glint in your eyes. 

This was a side of you Jake hadn’t experienced since those first weeks — before he turned cold. You’d made him laugh with your lack of a filter more often than not, and almost always at the worst of moments. Though it did make for some convincing paparazzi shots.

It took him a moment and a couple throat clears before he was able to respond. 

“Are you saying you’re having a bad time?” Jake’s slightly bushy yet still neatly formed eyebrow cocked at you. You just shrugged and sat back in your seat, smoothing out the silk napkin in your lap. 

“All I’m saying is that I know a few places that are ten times less stuffy with food ten times better than this.” There were parts of New York, your version of New York, that Jake had surely never seen. Places that he would likely never step foot in on his own accord.

Suddenly Jake was slapping a handful of bills on the table, enough to cover the drinks and a hefty tip, then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the building.

“What? Did I piss you off?”

At this point you didn’t know what you were going to get with him. He was either going to play nice or he was going to be a dick. The urgency in how you’d left the restaurant had you thinking he was going to give you the latter version of him.

“Huh? Wha-no! No…” he hesitated. “I just thought you could show me your side of New York.”

Your side of New York.

Jake was letting go of the control he seemed so intent on always maintaining to let you show him around. A camera flashed somewhere in the distance, the bright light blinding you momentarily in the dark street. It was a stark reminder of what was out there. Jake had been so careful to curate your guys’ every move so that the paparazzi would only catch you two in situations he wanted them to catch you in. They had no clue that for weeks he’d brought woman after woman into the house. Or that you’d been sleeping with his best friend in secret. They had no clue this was all a front because Jake made sure of it. This wasn’t in his plan.

“What about them,” you nodded your head in the direction the flash had come. “What if they catch you slumming it at holes in the wall?” For a second his demeanor changed – he was contemplating the point you had made. Calculating in his head if it was worth it. 

As soon as it had changed it was back again.

“Fuck ‘em.” There it was – that subtle Texan accent that you only heard every so often. It was so much stronger with his parents and you had to wonder if Jake had lost it or if he purposely disguised it. “I’ll get the car.” You just nodded and stared after him as he walked up to the valet. It was only a minute later that Jake was opening the door for you to get in.

In an uncharacteristically Jake move he had chosen to go without a driver or security tonight. Or at least you didn’t notice security. There’s been several times they popped up and scared the shit out of you. So it was highly possible they were lurking in the shadows. 

“Alright, where to first?” 

“23rd and 6th.” You answered without a second thought. 

It took some time to get through the NYC dinner time traffic, but eventually Jake pulled up. It was one of those restaurants with faded pictures of food on their menu. In your experience those places always had the best food. No need to fancy up their menu when it had been working just as well in the thirtieth year as it did in the first.

“Great Burrito?” The tone in Jake’s voice had you giggling. “It would only make sense for a Mexican restaurant to also serve pizza in a city like this.” He shook his head and you laughed a little louder. He did have a point. That would only make sense in the Big Apple.

You could tell he was reluctant to get out of the car, but when Jake saw you get out so quickly he followed suit. A doorbell chimed, announcing to the restaurant there was a new customer. By now the dinner rush had mostly ended, but there were a few stragglers. Jake stood next to you, his head craned up to look at the menu above the counter.

“Come on, you’re from Texas, aren’t there taquerias there?” You nudged him with your elbow and his head moved slowly to look down at you. His brows furrowed as he processed your question but eventually the creases went away as he relaxed.

“Ye-yeah. There was a place like this on UT’s campus – Vaquero Taquero.” He smiled softly and you smiled with him. “Spent a lot of drunk nights there and a few other places.” Jake chuckled.

There was glint in his eyes and you found yourself wanting to know more about what he was like in college. Bradley had told you some stories, but not much. Most of your time spent with him wasn’t exactly spent talking – unless you counted the dirty talk.

His hand came to hover just over the small of your back as you stepped up to order. Jake’s fingers brushed ever so slightly against the fabric of your coat and you found yourself wanting to feel his palm spread over the area. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that in public before, why was he being so hesitant about it now?

“Two tacos al pastor and one tamarindo agua.” It was your go to order, always al pastor tacos and always the tamarindo agua fresca. You listened to Jake’s order, wanting to know what he liked. Two carne asada tacos, one chorizo taco and a guava Jarritos. That one took you a bit by surprise. Jake didn’t strike you as a guava kind of guy. Or even a Jarritos kind of guy. 

The first few minutes of the meal were spent in silence, savoring the taste of the tacos while they were still freshly warm. You didn’t have to guess if Jake was enjoying them. That was evident by the way he devoured the first taco in no time flat. He was normally so calm, cool and collected. He ate his dinner so proper, this was like a drunk frat boy eating his first meal after one too many keg stands. 

Honestly it was refreshing. Tonight you got to enjoy the side of Jake that you first met. It was giving you a bit of whiplash – the way he was changing back and forth between personalities. Of course you were expecting him to go back, to turn back into that asshole that you’d started to hate. You still wondered what had changed. Why he’d gotten so cold, but that was something you were sure he wouldn’t ever share with you. Marriage or not, this was still a business transaction. There wasn’t a need for the two of you to get that intimately close.

“When was the last time you went back to Texas?” Jake took a moment to think, chewing slower as he thought. 

“I haven’t been back since I graduated with my MBA so…” he paused again, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as he silently counted the years in his head. “Ten years.”

Ten years seemed like such a long time when he’d spent more than half his life in the state. Was he just that busy or was there a deeper reason why he hadn’t gone back.

“Do you plan on visiting again?”

He shrugged and then nodded his head, leaning back against his seat. Jake brought a napkin up to his lips to roughly wipe away any taco remnants from his mouth. 

“I’m sure, UT has asked me to give the commencement speech this coming graduation. I haven’t accepted yet, but I probably will. Dad keeps talking about moving back, but I don’t think mom will ever go back.” That didn’t really surprise you.

Jake’s mom was snobby enough that she was living up the New York socialite stereotype. As were her daughters. Then again, maybe they were like that in Texas. You didn’t really care to know. As far as you were concerned Mrs. Seresin was just a thorn in your side you had to endure until your impending divorce with her son. She didn’t have to like you and you didn’t have to like her.

“What about you, what was your college experience like?”

“Definitely nothing like I’m sure yours was.” You left out a sigh that slightly resembled a half-hearted laugh. “I was trying to work my way through nursing school until mom got sick and then I had to drop out.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal.

Only it was a big deal. This wasn’t how you’d planned for your life to go and it certainly wasn’t how your mother had planned for your life to go either. It wasn’t her fault, no one had planned for your father to die or for your mother to get cancer. You were simply dealt a bad hand of cards and were trying to pull off a bluff. Trying to fake it til you made it.

Jake could feel the frown tugging at the corner of his lips. The contrast between the two of your and your lives was so different. Yet, despite it all you were still warm and sweet, even when he didn’t deserve it. Which he didn’t most of the time. He felt a little jealous of Bradley. Jake knew his friend got to see more of your sweetness than he did. 

The door chimed as it opened and let in a bit of cold air that caused you to shiver. Jake noticed and stood up, grabbing your empty plates and tossing them in the nearby trash. 

“Home?” It was a simple question and you answered just as simply with a nod. 

It was much more comfortable in his car on the drive home. The heat and seat warmers made you so comfortable you were borderline falling asleep. 

“What time do we need to be at the hospital tomorrow?” Jake’s soft voice brought you back from the edge of sleep. Up until now you’d forgotten that he had promised to go to your mom’s chemo with you. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to even go at all. 

You stared at him for a long second. Studying him and trying to decipher if he was being sincere.

“Eight, are you sure you want to go? It’s going to be a long day and she sleeps most of the time.” You usually brought something to read or a book of crosswords to do while there. It wasn’t anything exciting, more like saddening. Watching someone fight for their life. 

Jake just nodded and reached over, squeezing your hand. 

“Yeah, I know I’ve been an ass, but I want to do better even if this marriage is fake.” That tugged at your heart. Through all this you’d felt alone. Sure you had Nat and Bob, but they weren’t as intertwined with this as Jake was. It was his money affording the treatment. Jake was the sole reason your mom was able to fight for her life without you having to sell your body at some high end club. Now he was trying to support you in a way that was more than just financially and you could help but feel drawn to him more than you had in the past few weeks. 

Jake opened your door, his hand hovering over the small of your back as you walked to the elevator. 

“Thank you,” you started after a mostly quiet ride up to the penthouse. “Means a lot.” Your throat constricted a bit and you avoided contact with his eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears building up. His hand reached over and squeezed yours again. Your eyes locked on the sight of your hands connected. You let them linger for a long while before slowly letting them slip apart. 

“Eight am?” he asked. “Eight am.” You confirmed,

–

Hospitals always smelled the same. A little bit of bleach mixed with despair, pain and a little bit of happiness. Sometimes it was nauseating, but you’d grown used to it. When you had to drop out of nursing school you had just finished your first semester of clinicals. 

Today the chemo room was mostly empty. Just one other person on the other side of the room, an older man sitting with a much younger woman. His granddaughter you figured given the way they had been interacting all morning. A bittersweet image as the man looked like he was a shell of himself. He was frail and couldn’t move without assistance from someone. So frail that you were certain it wasn’t entirely the treatment that had caused it. 

It wasn’t unusual for the room to be cold. By now you had gotten into the habit of bringing a couple blankets and dressing warm for the long day. One or two for yourself and extra for your mom. 

“You sure you don’t have anything better to do today?” You half whispered to Jake who was sitting next to you reading an article in a worn Forbes magazine. 

He hummed and turned his head towards you before the question finally registered. He shook his head and closed the magazine but kept his pointer finger between the pages. Keeping his place. 

“Positive.” He sounded positive, but that didn’t stop you from feeling bad. Surely Jake Seresin had better things to do than sit around in a hospital with his fake fiancée while her mother got treatment for breast cancer. “It’s almost noon, we should eat something, you should eat something. Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipped breakfast.” Jake raised his eyebrows at you and you just rolled your eyes. 

You hardly ever ate on Chemo days. Your focus was more on your mom and it was hard to work up an appetite seeing her like this. Even if she was just asleep in a chair. Still you relented and took the card he had fished out of his wallet. His eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore before he turned back to the magazine. 

“She’s a good girl,” your mother’s frail voice made Jake jump a bit. He hadn’t heard her talk much. A few words here and there. Then again, this was the most time he’d spent in her presence since you two had “been together”. “She deserves more than what she’s been given.”

He looked towards her, his green eyes softening at the sight of her. There was a weak but loving smile on her face and her eyes were half lidded. No doubt tired from the taxing treatment she was going through. It was something Jake hoped he never had to go through himself. Something he hoped that no one would ever have to go through, but life didn’t work that way. He made a mental note to donate a hefty chunk of money towards cancer research. It was the least he could do. 

“I thought you were asleep?” This time he fully put the magazine down, focusing his attention on your mom. 

“No,” she shook her head ever so slightly and chuckled just a bit. “I’m never fully asleep, I just want her to think so. It’s easier on her that way and on me. I love that girl but if I have to hear her ask if I’m okay every five minutes I’ll go insane.” You could go a little overboard with that. And you knew it, but she was your mom. How could you not constantly check in on her? For so long you had lived under the same roof with her. It had been easy to keep tabs on her and her health, now it was harder.

Jake let out a chuckle of his own. Before your mom had “fallen asleep” he was sure you had asked her that question at least ten times. So much that even he was tempted to curb it somehow, but he knew this had to be driving you crazy. That you were probably scrambling for some way to help in any way you could.

“I get it, though. First we lost her dad and then I got cancer. It’s been hard on her, but she’s always tried to act like she can take on the world. And she probably can,” the woman mused softly, “but she shouldn’t have to.” Her eyes got watery and Jake handed her a tissue, feeling his own heart clench. “Why are you doing this?” The question came out of left field. Jake wasn’t sure how much your mom knew, but it sounded like he was about to find out. The confused look on his face prompted your mom to expand on her question. “I mean why are you helping me? Helping her?” He supposed it was a fair question. 

Jake bit his lip, pondering it for a moment. The easy answer would be that it was mutually beneficial. That you were helping him just as much as he was helping you. And in the beginning of this that answer probably would have sufficed, but he knew there was more to it now. He just didn’t know how much more and he wasn’t sure what “more” entailed. 

Before he could get the chance to answer you showed back up. He only knew that because your mom had closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep just moments before the door to the room opened. 

“Alright so there was nothing good down there, Pizza that looked like it was at least a day old and dry chicken fingers so I ordered us food instead. Figured you wouldn’t mind?” You trailed off sheepishly and held his card out.

Jake just shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.” 

Really he didn’t. He would rather you spend the money on food you would actually eat versus waste it on gross food that might find its way back up later. You nodded your head in the direction of your mom, silently asking how she was doing. “She’s fine, been sleeping the whole time.” He lied through his teeth. No need to let you know that he had been talking about you with your mother. Even if it was nothing juicy. 

It was a little nice, talking to your mom for that tiny period of time. She let him have the tiniest sliver of information on you and he found himself wanting more conversations like that with her. If you weren’t going to open up to him maybe your mom would give him what he wanted to know. 

“You’re absolutely positive you want to be here?” You asked again.  “Ask me that one more time and I’m posting the security footage of you singing Hit Me Baby One More Time into a spatula on instagram.”

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