#i wanna squeeze her like a beloved daughter

[sorbeau]

FIGGGGGG she means so much to me <3

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[eggtartz]

✧ 25th October ✧

Shanks // Nanny (f! nanny reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : can you tell i haven't watched or read one piece before, dilf shanks, riding, creampie

his precious uta always had to be left behind during his adventures, fearing he'll be in her way of her singing career. shanks was aware of her passion and taking her with him would only prevent that which he would hate to do. so what he has resolved to is leaving her with a trusted nanny. he was away for longs terms but dear it knew, one day, she'll see her beloved father and captain's crew sailing back home again. but until then, she will wait patiently.

you were her nanny and basically treated her like a little sister. "uta, are you composing more songs again?" you tilted your head, frowning as the adorable child is not resting from creatung her masterpiece "no y/n! i gotta finish this before shanks come home! i want him to be the first one to listen!" her circular braids shoot up like bunny ears. "well, okay but make sure to have your lunch and your nap okay?" you said gently as she yelled an 'okay'.

as you were folding the clothes you could hear a commotion from the shorelines and watched as a big ship, the flag soaring in the wind. "shanks!" you smiled at the sight of the captain, his smile as sweet as you remember, the scar along his eyes just adds to his attractiveness. "uta! come, the captain is back!" you yelled as she shrieked "he is?! shanks!" the excited child spent no time to lunge at him to hug him, a quite bizarre display of affection in public but shanks warmly held her in one hand. "looks like someone missed me, huh?" he teased, bopping her nose that made her giggle.

he walked back to home while you chatted with the red hat crew "party?" you recalled that made shanks turned "yup! we're gonna have party tonight because why not?" his cheekily smiled as uta forced him to bring her as well. settling down at the humbled abode, you bought on shanks belongings and placed them in his room as you could hear laughter and giggles of his daughter from the other side of the room. "captain, would you want something to drink?" you said as you headed to the kitchen. the man followed behind you as he went closer and took a sniff of your neck "you smell a little too good" he commented as you swatted him away.

"oh please, stop the teases" you smiled as you poured him a drink "how are you, y/n? she hasn't been causing too much trouble, has she?" he raised a brow as you shook your head. "she's a sweetheart, actually. currently composing a song for you" you smiled "for me? oh i'm flattered" he moved from his chair and moved to your back, latching himself close to your body "i miss both of you too much" his hand grabbed your waist as you made a small squeak. "you wanna help me with some stuff later on, pretty girl?" he used that tone again, that slutry tone you know you can't escape.

"uta is still here, shanks. she'll-"

"later on, at the party. deal?" he quickly cut you off. you turned around as he squeezed your butt with one hand and spanked it once before walking away. "be there, doll."

that night, the crews were rowding the bar as you sat with uta who was standing on the table while singing. you looked up at her, the juice you had in your hand sipped slowly. "hey, y/n. mind if i steal you for a bit?" you turned around to see rogers as you nodded. he bought you outside where shanks was waiting, his clothes getting blown away by the gentle breeze.

"i was summoned?" you mischievously asked, knowing what the older man wants. he smiles "is it too forward to say i really miss you?"

"me or something else, captain?"

"cheeky, huh? sit down doll, help your old man out" he said as you giggled. he man spread his legs as you situated yourself perfectly on his lap, always fitting there. always has and always will. "skirt up" he said, one hand caressing your hip as you lifted your skirt, revealing your white panties. "oh, have i missed this sight" he groaned, bringing yourself to rub on him as you whimpered. "oh.. can we just put it in? i stretched myself real good, i promise"

"you already have? what a good girl you are" he said giddily as you lowered yourself around him. the first stretch was intense as you frowned. he buried his nails around your waist as your warms insides wrapped around his length for the first time in so long. shanks can't even phantom how many times he has jerked himself to the memories of you and now that he's back, he isn't going to waste another minute.

"bounce harder, girl. yeah, you're doing good" he groaned as your hands rested in his shoulders. the outline of your bra was see through the white dress you're wearing and shanks ripped the fabric with his teeth. he engulfed one nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "oh! shanks.. so rough.." you whined as his teeth grazed through the bud. he took the other one in his mouth, repeating the cycle.

"you look so pretty impaled to my dick. you're gonna make me cum, doll" he smiled tenderly as you squeeze your eyes shut, breathing hitched. "oh! shanks!" you rubbed your clit while bouncing on his cock, leaving the man a mess as his dick is getting clenched and he's going to cum any second now.

"you miss me that much?" he still cheekily asked. "yes i did.. fuck! i missed you so much" your bouncing was getting sloppier as shanks thrusted upwards "how much?" he started his rough pace "a.. a lot.." your brain was foggy, his cock thundering in and out left you mewling and wanting more. your eager cunt was milking him as he felt the pressure building, his hands were on your waist still as he frowned. his gorgeous red hair was blowing in the air, the scar adorning his eyes was wrinkling when he frowned.

you looked at him with awe as you slumped againts him, your pussy twitching as he came inside. he moved your face to kiss him, a soft yet passionate kiss with impaling his tongue inside yours. he looked at you while he panted, hands soothingly rubbed your back. "let's go back, hm?"

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: father’s day

pairing: post outbreak!joel miller x gender neutral reader

rating: none

summary:

Father’s Day is hard for Joel Miller after losing his daughter.

content warnings/tags: no use of y/n, references to grief and child loss. i don’t think there’s any others, but please let me know if i’ve missed any.

Joel grows more quiet toward the middle of June, his gaze more distant as he moves through the motions of living as guilt weighs heavy on his mind. The phantom fingers of grief curl around his heart, squeezing tightly as he tries to live each day like he didn’t lose his whole world twenty years ago.

He wonders what Sarah would have been like, had the world not gone to shit. Would she have stuck with soccer? Been a good student? Gone to college? What would her degree have been in? He thinks about a little girl with curly hair carrying around her pretend veterinarian toys, diagnosing her stuffed animals, and his throat clogs with emotion.

Joel Miller was a father.

He’s not anymore.

_______

You notice how Joel, who’s already a man of few words as it is, starts to speak less over dinner. As June wears on, the days bright and warm, Joel grows colder. Ellie comes to you with concern one day.

“What’s wrong with Joel?” The young girl asks bluntly. “He’s more of a sad motherfucker than usual.”

“Might be because of Father’s Day,” you tell her as she sits at the table.

“What’s that?”

You tilt your head. Sometimes you forget that Ellie has lived through so much, yet so little all at once. Growing up in a government controlled orphanage and spending your formative years in a military prep school probably didn’t leave much room for learning about many holidays.

“It’s just what it sounds like. A day to celebrate your father,” you tell her.

She’s quiet for a beat before asking, “That why Joel’s so upset?”

“Yeah, that would be my guess.”

“What do you normally do for Father’s Day?”

You think back to your past life, one where you’d had a blood family rather than a found one. When you were a young child, your mom would sign your name to a card from the store and you’d watch as your dad opened a gift he’d specifically requested. In your teens, you would buy him a card yourself and usually a book, something feasible with your part-time job earnings. And the last Father’s Day you remember, you’d been eighteen and away at college, only able to offer him a brief phone call between classes.

“Well, I guess it depends on the kind of relationship you had. There were cards you could buy, and stores would have sales on things like tools or electronics. Some families might have a special meal. People who lost their fathers might visit their grave. If you didn’t have a father or a good relationship with one, I imagine you’d let the day pass without acknowledgement, just another Sunday.”

Ellie nods. “Joel needs a new belt. I’ll ask Marlon to show me how to make one,” she says, referring to the town’s craftsman.

“You…wanna get him a gift? For Father’s Day?” You ask in surprise. Her cheeks heat with a pink flush as she shrugs, looking anywhere but at you.

“I mean, I guess. He’s the closest I’ve had to one,” she replies. You smile at her.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ellie.”

________

Joel lets himself into the house, veins warm from the whiskey he’d had at the Tipsy Bison with Tommy. It had been a silent affair, but a needed one for both men, one mourning a daughter and the other his beloved niece.

He removes his boots at the door before journeying to the kitchen, making a beeline for the sink to get himself a glass of water to wash the lingering taste of whiskey from his mouth. It’s not until he’s about to leave the kitchen does he notice what’s on the table.

There’s a folded piece of paper with his name on it tucked beneath a coiled leather belt. Joel picks up the belt, admiring the stitching and the thick silver buckle. Ever since returning to Jackson, his waist has filled out more thanks to the labor and actual food, not rations or scavenged canned goods, doing his body a favor.

He picks up the card next, Ellie’s familiar scratchy handwriting spelling out his name in large letters on the front. He opens it, reading the message inside.

Why should people stop buying belts?

Because they go to waist.

Happy Father’s Day

Ellie

Joel grits his teeth against the surge of emotion in his chest, eyes stinging with tears. Movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention.

“You put her up to this?” He asks you, gesturing with the belt in his hand.

“Nope. Came up with that all on her own,” you reply with a smile.

He looks at his gift in bewilderment.

Joel Miller was a father.

Perhaps, in the ways that matter most, he still is.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

[tastyykpop]

ɢᴏ sʜᴀᴡᴛʏ, ɪᴛ's ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ

pairings: stepdad!chanyeol x reader

genre: smut

warnings: softdom!chanyeol, sub!reader, dumbification, praising, a lil degradation, breeding, daddy kink, fingering at the dining table, begging, crying kink, attention whore oc

i cant stay loyal to baek when i make shit like this

the house was full of noise. most of it coming from the music, the other of which were friends of mr. park who happened to be your stepdad.

today was his birthday and he just had to have a party.

you couldnt complain too much. there were some parts of it that were fun like drinking til your hearts content and teasing your beloved stepdad until he breaks.

except he didn't. he did everything but break.

mr. park found your attempts quite stupid, only smiling at your petty attempts like you were a cute animal pawing at his ankles. he couldn't help but smile at how dumb you looked trying to get your stepdad to bend you over, and fuck you on the table. you were just adorable.

adorably stupid.

so he decided to tease back. when you sat in his lap, he had casually wrapped an arm around your waist as a sly hand inched its way under your skirt, rubbing just in between your thighs. adding to the fact that he was doing it right in front of his friends, you both were lucky the table he sat at had a cloth over it.

now, it just looked like a 'father' and his 'daughter' happily sitting together.

it was far from that.

"arent you a bit desperate for some attention." mr. park half smiled, "you wanted daddy's attention, huh?"

you nodded with a smile, happy that mr. park was finally giving in to what you wanted the whole time. though at the table- you hoped no one saw. you prayed even harder that none of his friends walked by, especially when mr. park moved your panties to the side to slip a couple fingers in.

"be quiet and don't make a sound." he whispered, returning his attention back to the conversation he was in, acting as if he wasn't fingering you under the tablecloth.

your thighs squeezed his hand, trying your best to keep silent. you wanted to focus on the conversation going on around you, hoping it would avert your attention on what's going on. and when someone talked to your from across the table, you felt as if not moaning was simple. it wasn't not. more so- mr. park didn't want you to focus on anything else but himself. with a subtle curl of his fingers, your mouth fell open as your brows furrowed. a small sound escaping from your mouth as you averted your attention back to mr. park, glaring at the older man.

you had to pass it up as a cough, a way to cover it up.

"such a stupid girl. can't even keep her mouth shut for five minutes." he sighed in dissapointment, taking his fingers away from your dripping cunt as he wiped his fingers on his pants. like he wasn't the cause of your moan.

you attempted to grab his hand to stop him, but he only slapped your hand away, ignoring you completely.

"no please," you began, "I promise to stay quiet, daddy please." mr. park wasn't looking at you still talking to his friends as if you were nonexistent. "daddy." you continued to whine, but it didn't work. with a groan, you called out a bit louder, "chanyeol." making his jaw clentch before facing you "I need you. want you to fuck me."

he raised a brow, "isn't it supposed to be my day today? acting like such an attention whore in front of all my friends. do you want them to know how much of a slut you are for me?" chanyeol questioned. "youd probably love that."

you stayed silent, not knowing if you should speak or what. your desperation for him was through the roof, yet he was right. it is his day, you shouldn't be so greedy. so you tried to calm your hormones, tried not to seem like a complete whore for attention even as you soaked through your panties.

"I only wanna make you feel good. can I make you fell good, daddy?"

damn you sounded so pitiful. mr. park could only chuckle before picking you up, and walking to his shared bedroom after saying a polite 'sorry, shes not feeling so great' to excuse him and yourself.

he sat you on the bed. his tall form standing over you, making you feel smaller in comparison. "pretty baby." mr. park held your chin in his hand, admiring you, "you gonna be good for daddy and do everything he says?" you nodded in anticipation. "then suck me off like a big girl."

his dick sprang out as he pulled his pants down with his free hand. the one holding your jaw moved to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. but without him having to push your head down onto his dick, you willingly lunged forward like a cock hungry maniac, gladly taking your stepdad in your mouth.

you wrapped your hand around the base as you kitten licked his tip, switching between sucking and licking as it seemed to make him moan and buck his hips in pleasure, causing you to gag at the intrusion on your gag reflex. mr. park couldnt help but do it again. and again. and again. thrusting his hips forward so you'd gag on his dick, drooling like a puppy as you made a complete mess of yourself.

he threw his head back, keeping his hand stiff in your hair so you couldn't back away from him as he pounded into the back of your throat. you were already whimpering and choking, trying your hardest to focus on breathing rather than the burning sensation happening in your throat.

you could hardly look up at him since your vision was blurry with tears, making it harder to see him clearly, but you knew the sight was beautiful. your stepdad, fucking your face full of his cock as he had his head tilted back showing off his pretty neck? yeah- that would make a nice picture.

"baby's doing so g-good." he said, "don't wanna cum like this though." with that being said, mr. park pulled you off his dick as drool dripped down from your lips and tears streamed down your face. "so messy, baby. a stupid, drooling mess just from my dick."

mr. park pushed you onto the bed, trapping you with his arms, hands in yours as he hovered over your lips with a smirk.

"wanna kiss daddy?" as you lifted your head to kiss him, he pulled back and snickered.

you knew he was treating you as if you were a child. teasing and babying you. it almost infuriated you as he kept making you feel like a dumb kid. you weren't. but mr. park loved seeing that frustration get to you.

"stop doing that." you frowned, "kiss me."

you wanted to move your hands and pull his head down for a kiss, but it was no use, he was just too strong as he tightened his hold on you.

"chanyeol, just kiss me." you whined in irritation, he only grinned, but he did kiss you. not where you wanted him to, he in fact kissed your cheek just to cause you more annoyance.

"stay still." he said, letting got of your hands so he could flip your skirt up and move your panties to the side. "these are cute." he played with the hem of your panties, pulling them back just to let it go and slap your pelvis area. "did you wear them just for me?"

you did in fact wear them for him. planning to show them off at some point in the night and now was a better time than any. "yes d-daddy."

"cute girl. always trying to please daddy." he gave you another smile before pushing his dick inside of you eliciting a quiet moan. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body just to feel him. "oh? you like my cock that much? baby I just started."

an exasperated moan left your lips, trying to keep eye contact with him. his hand squeezed your hips, bringing them towards his body as he connected his hips with yours. chanyeol was reaching areas you didn't know were possible, rolling your eyes as you screamed in pleasure, not caring who heard you anymore.

"you tryna get us in trouble, stupid girl?" he covered your mouth with his hand, shaking his head even as you kept moaning through his hand like a bitch. but he didn't mind, at least you were somewhat quiet.

his returning smirk widened when you arched your back under him, his hand still on your mouth as you whimpered and moaned. tears were streaming down your cheeks as well, he couldn't say he hated the sight. it was absolutely stunning- truly breathtaking as he fucked you silly.

all he wanted for his birthday was exactly this.

"what a c-complete cock hungry mess you are, baby. you must really w-wanna milk me- milk daddy dry." chanyeol quirked an eyebrow, staring deep into your red eyes as you sobbed into his hand. pathetic. "t-tell me. c'mon, tell daddy you want his cum."

he removed his slightly drool covered hand, waiting for you to speak. "i-i want-" you gulped, "i want daddy's c-cum! please cum i-inside me."

chanyeols brain malfunctioned.

"in-inside you?! fill you up- breed you like a bitch? is that what you want?" you nodded impatiently, not caring anymore as you were lost in euphoria. the only thing on your mind was chanyeol and his cock, fucking you absolutely stupid.

"y-yes please please please-" you begged shakily right when his cock twitched inside you. throwing you head back, you took that as a sign that he was close. mr. park swore under his breath, a distinct groan coming from him as he painted your walls with his cum. lowering his head against your neck, he kept going, allowing yourself to let go as well- moaning and crying in his ear. more drops of tears pricked your eyes, becoming more sensitive even as he slowed his pace.

mr. park never pulled out- he was content in this position, adoring how your pussy quivered around his cock.

"pussy feels so good. wanna stay like this forever, baby." he finally kissed your lips softly- letting the taste of your lips linger on his.

"did you like your present, daddy?"

"I loved it, baby. thank you."

your mom was gonna kill you if she ever found out.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and the kid( I forgot his name wtf-😭) caught them? And then Like the next day at school my boy boy is doing it do other girls in his class- NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY👴🏽🤏🏽🕶 like when they got caught bakugo would say” I’m just protecting your mom from my villains” or sum shit💀✋🏽 So now he is like trying protect his friends 😭Just wondering😁

Ima crack writer so HERE WE GO!!😎

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Crack, smexy times, cursing, domestic

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“S-Slow down Suki!”

Your husband pounded into you at an alarming pace. Katsuki came home from work feeling a little frisky and so when their beloved son, Katsuo, was fast asleep, the couple decided to get it on. It was around four in the morning and you two had been going at it for an hour, already 3 orgasms in.

Your bodies were covered underneath the blanket as Bakugou rammed into you. His large arms held your torso close as your own wrapped around his neck. His aching member slipped in and out of you, head just kissing your cervix, as his heavy balls smacked against the swell of your ass. The sound in the room was terribly loud. The way your skin smacked against one another and your moans created a rough melody of sex. Thankfully, you lived in a rather large home and your son’s room was far, far away. Good thing he was a deep sleeper too.

“What’s wrong princess? Can’t handle it?” Katsuki teased with his hot breath against your neck. At your every cry to go slower (in fear of awakening your son) Katsuki sped up his rhythm.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed. Katsuki rose above you and captured your neck in his hand. He stayed close to you as his free hand went to your hip and brought you close to him while he slammed into you. The fast movements caused the bed frame to bang against the wall as Katsuki moaned into your ear.

“S-Shit baby! Oh fuck, you feel so good. So perfect wrapped around my cock.” He groaned in your ear. The immense pleasure and husky voice had your back arching, giving your husband the chance to wrap his arm under you and flip you both over. You tried to keep the blanket covering you both as you bounced up and down his dick, but failed as the fabric traveled down to only cover your lower ass.

As you bounced, Katsuki continued to thrust up into you. His hands held onto your ass and gave it a smack from time to time. “K-Katsuki! I’m gonna cum! Please! Mm, yes! Don’t stop!”

At the sound of your voice, Katsuki’s hands went straight to your clit and ferociously rubbed at it. His actions had you throwing your head back and your pussy clenching around him. Katsuki noticeably jumped a bit when you began to tighten around his cock.

“Oh baby! God you’re squeezing me so damn tight.” He said as he kissed your chest. “F-Fuck, gonna make me put another brat inside ya. You want that? Wanna be full of my seed? Give me another one, yeah?”

You nodded your head as your eyes filled with tears due to all the pleasure. His grip on your waist grew tighter as your legs began to shake. The sound of skin slapping sped up as you and Bakugou drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He screamed as you moaned loudly. You both came at the same time and to silence the both of you, Katsuki pulled you in for a kiss. You both moaned into it as your hips grinded on his dick. His hand squeezed at your ass again before giving it another smack and then soothing the stinging sensation with soft rubs.

You kiss would’ve continued had it not been for a sweet little voice coming from the doorway. “Dad?”

At the sound, Katsuki instantly jumped and flipped you both over again, covering your bodies with the large sheet. He layed atop of you while you looked away from your son. The blanket covered you both, leaving nothing but your heads exposed. “Katsuo! Hi son, what’re you..Uh what’re you doing up?”

“What’re you guys doing?” Your son asked with his doe eyes he inherited from you. Katsuki’s member throbbed from inside you and he grunted at the feeling.

“Umm...I was just- just...protecting Mom from villains!” You gawked at your husband for his idiotic response. Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that?!

“Cool! I wanna help!” Your son said starry eyed but when he took a step to come closer, Katsuki screamed out.

“N-No! Uh- no, it’s okay bud. She’s fine. Okay? Uh..please go back to your room and go back to sleep. Okay? Yes? Please?” Katsuki asked with a hurried voice. Your son only smiled and nodded before running back to his room.

You both visibly became less tensed as the two of you released relieved sighs. You turned your head to your husband who remained inside of you and slanted your eyes at him when he gave you a cheeky smile. “We sure got outta that one, huh?”

“Get the hell off of me Katsuki!” You said, pushing his face away from you. The shove caused Katsuki’s member to slip out of you and you gasped at the loss. Katsuki smirked down at you and you only grunted at him. “Really? Protecting me from villains? that’s the best that you could come up with?!”

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” He screamed.

“Uh, I DONT KNOW! Maybe, ‘Oh, Mommy’s just cold. Oh, we’re not doing anything son. Oh, THIS IS JUST A FUCKING DREAM!!’ I mean, c’mon Katsuki!” You said.

“Would you have rather had me tell him I was stuffing your pretty pussy?” He asked with a smirk. You rewarded him with a smack to his chest and a pointed finger.

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

Katsuki only backed up a bit to see the wrecked sight of you and noticed the white cream leaking out of you and onto the bed. “Heh, what you need is for daddy to fill you up one more time.”

“Yeah right, your horny ass just wants to cum again.” You said with sass.

“Yeah, guess what? You’re right, so help me satisfy myself. Besides, you got to cum four times while I’m sitting at two,” he said while peppering your face in kisses from above. “At least let me have one more, baby.”

You smirked and this time it was you that flipped each other over. Katsuki sat up while you sat on his groin. “I’ll help you in another way, Daddy.”

You kissed his lips for a few seconds before moving south to go down on him. It has been awhile since you’ve tasted your husband so this should definitely excite him. Katsuki was definitely shocked but couldn’t stop the huge smile growing on his face. He watched you swallow his member and when you hummed with his cock sitting in your throat, he threw his head back.

“Fuck yes Princess.” His hand found way into your hair as he helped you bob your head up and down. Katsuki was in for a long, long morning.

—

Speaking of mornings, Katsuo was going to be having an exciting one. He had a morning play date with Kirishima’s son and the twin Todoroki sisters.

Akio, Kirishima’s son, came by early and so you were happy to see the two boys getting along so well, just like their fathers. With the exception of Katsuo being much more nicer than Katsuki of course. When you opened the door to greet your best friend, Momo, and her two daughters, you assured the girls that they’d have a fun time.

The twins ran in after greeting you and giving you a hug which left you a few minutes to speak to Momo before she left. You walked to the glass door that gave view of the kids in the backyard and noticed how Homura (the twin with red hair) had gone to play with Akio while Yukine (the twin with white hair) had been drawn to Katsuo.

You always noticed the little blush on your son’s face whenever Yukine came around. You thought his little crush on the icy-calm girl was absolutely adorable. “Kids!”

The little 5 year olds turned their heads to see you calling for them.

“Come inside, the movie’s almost on!” Seeing their faces perk up at the sound of the children’s movie, you giggled and motioned for them to come in. They all happily followed you and got comfy on the large couch. You placed a few snacks on the table for them before turning the T.V on. “Alright Katsuo. You’re the oldest and Mommy has some training to do. Daddy’s upstairs working if you need anything but if you’re all set, can I trust you to keep everything steady in here?”

“I promise Mom!” Your young boy joyously said. You gave him a warm smile before pecking his cheek and walking to the master bedroom to change. You walked in to find your husband on his laptop finishing his reports on the bed.

You walked to your dresser and pulled out a bathing suit. This caught your husband’s attention and had him smirking in the corner. “If you put that on, I’m assuming that’s an invitation for me to rail you~”

You giggled at his wording before walking to him and giving him a quick peck. “It’s for training dummy. I’m gonna head downstairs to the pool and workout with my water bending.”

Katsuki still held his smirk as he pushed away his laptop and pulled you into his lap. You were a bit jumpy but nonetheless settled while straddling his lap. “I have another idea for a workout and if you’re wondering, it does involve bending.”

He pulled you in for a few sweet kisses before you hovered your lips above his own to speak. You smiled as you placed your hands on his chest to keep the horn dog at bay. “What is with you recently? First it’s you coming home to fuck me stupid and now it’s getting riled up from me just holding a bikini.”

“Can you blame me? I married the most beautiful woman in the world, so please believe I’m gonna take full advantage of that.” He replied. You chuckled a bit before he pulled you in for more kisses and a little heated make out session. Your tongues came in contact and began tangling as he took you by your ass and had you grind down on him.

“Mm..Suki, stop,” you said with a laugh as you pulled away. “Seriously, there’s kids downstairs and we definitely don’t want a repeat of what happened last night with our own.”

Bakugou just huffed and groaned while slumping in his spot. You knew he wasn’t mad because as you got off of him and walked the the bedroom door, you looked back at him to see him smiling at you with eyes that carried all the love in the world. You smiled back before walking downstairs.

As you walked down the hall, you hummed a little happy tune to yourself. You love your little family so much. Your beloved husband and your precious son meant the world to you. Nothing could ruin your mood. At least, that’s what you thought before a loud smack interrupted your humming. Your head snapped to the sound and you immediately ran to the living room to check up on the kids.

—

“Are you sure you’re doing it right, Katsuo?” Yukine’s sweet voice said.

“Yeah, yeah. I think my Dad went like..this? *SMACK*” Yukine released a little yelp at the hit and that was when you caught sight of everything.

“Uh, guys?” You asked while walking into the scene. “Is everything alright in- AHHHH!”

You walked in to find Homura and Akio in the kitchen putting plates away and your son and Yukine on the couch. What made you scream was the fact that Yukine was straddling your son’s lap and you just witnessed Katsuo smack her behind. You immediately ran to the two and picked Yukine up while putting her on the couch and dragging your son by the ear up to your room while constantly saying “No, no, no, no, no, no, no...”

—

Katsuki was continuing his work after you left but after just a few minutes, you came back in constantly saying “no” as you dragged your son in by his tiny ear.

“No, no, no, no, nope! No! NO!” You said and tugged Katsuo in by the ear and shut the door. “Katsuo? Sweetie? What was that all about?”

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” Katsuki asked, shutting his laptop and getting up from the bed. “Katsuo what’d you do?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Mom just came in and started yelling.” Your son said in defense. Your husband looked to you in confusion but you sighed before whispering to him.

“Katsuki, I walked into the living room and Yukine was straddling Katsuo while he grabbed and smacked her ass!” You whisper-yelled. Katsuki’s eyes popped and his head snapped towards his son. On the inside, he wanted to laugh because damn his son was a playaaaaa but unfortunately he had to be a professional parent right now.

Katsuki walked to his son and crouched to his level. “Uh, Katsuo? Why did you smack Yukine? And why was she sitting on you?”

“I was doing what you did.” Katsuo simply said. Katsuki tilted his head in confusion with pointed brows as he pressed for more explanations.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I was protecting Yukine from villains cuz I wanna be a hero, just like you Dad!” Your son said with his adorable smile. “Just like how you were protecting Mom last night!”

Katsuki visibly got choked up at the last sentence and his mouth formed an “o” as he slowly turned to look up at you. He was still crouching as he stared up at your angry form that held eyes of fury and crossed arms. You looked towards your husband with a raised brow and he began to sweat a little with a nervous laugh leaving his mouth.

“Um, okay son. You had good intentions which is great but..you see..uhhhh....Y/N?” Katsuki asked for help as he turned towards you. You sighed and dropped your head as you walked to the two and dropped down to your son’s level.

“Katsuo, the way your dad was..protecting me last night is only for adults. Not for little angels like you. So please don’t do it again, okay?” You said while holding his little hands.

“Am I in trouble Mom?” Your son asked with a small pout.

“Of course not sweetie. Your dad was right, you had good intentions. Just- please don’t do it again my love.” You said with a wavering smile. Katsuo smile and nodded before asking another question.

“Can I do it when I’m older?” He asked with his pure child innocence. You froze up a bit and Katsuki laughed a little bit you turned to him and smacked his arm to get him to shut up.

“Uh- we’ll have that talk later, bud. For now just, please don’t do it. Okay? From now on, do as I say and not as I do.” Katsuki said and Katsuo listened. He nodded his head and you released a relived sigh before standing up and glaring at your husband. You dragged him by his arm to a corner and pointed a finger into his chest.

“The next time some B.S like this happens again, you won’t have to worry about protecting me from villains for a month. Am I clear, Katsuki?” You said with slanted eyes. Your husband had a quivering smile as he looked at you in very slight fear.

“Crystal.” He replied. You walked out the room to go and check on the kids leaving the boys in the room by themselves. Once your were a good distance away, Katsuki walked over to his son and looked down at him. Katsuki looked to each side of the room before looking back at your son and speaking. “Did Yukine make a noise when you hit her?”

Katsuo nodded and Katsuki smiled down at his boy before ruffling his head and pushing him to the bedroom exit. Katsuo understood and opened the door to go back downstairs as he laughed at his father’s rough but loving treatment. As Katsuki watched his son from the bed he couldn’t help but whisper a little. “That’s my boy. So proud.”

“What?” Katsuo asked as he thought he heard his father say something. Katsuki looked everywhere in the room except at the tiny child at the door.

“Huh? What? Hm? Ah, no, no. Nothing. Uh-...go back downstairs.” He said and Katsuo nodded before exiting. Katsuki layed back down on the bed with his arms behind his head as he smiled contently at the ceiling. “*sigh* Yeah, that’s definitely my son.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Epilogue

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Minor Fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/n: Grande finale! Oof plz don’t kill me but it’s so cute I loved writing this series so much and low-key I’m sad it’s over but it was so fun to write. If y’all have any ideas for anything you want me to write in the future, send em my way!

Series Masterlist

~*~

The wind is crisp, biting at the exposed skin of his face, his fingers.

He doesn’t mind too much though.

The sky is gloomy, like it might rain later in the day. The clouds are a deep grey colour and there's sorrow on the wind. He can’t help but feel like it’s fitting.

“I uh, I’m not sure what to say, I guess. Bonnie said it would be good to come swing by for a little while but uh I’m not sure if she was right.” His voice is shaky and he closes his eyes, hating the silence that meets him.

“I got you flowers. Didn’t wanna get roses cause it didn’t feel right, so I got you some carnations. Nat said that they last a while too which is nice. They’re real pretty. A light yellow type. Maybe peach is a better description of the colour but-” he cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Here I am, trying to describe the colour of the flowers to you when I’m sure you’ve got other things you wanna hear about.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like the two of you always practiced.

“She uh, she turns two in a few weeks, but you know that. I don’t know if I can do it though. Not without you.”

A cold drop of water splashes against his cheek and it’s only then that he notices the warm tears falling down his face.

“I miss you, doll. Every day it feels like it gets harder, and Bonnie says that’s normal, but I don’t know. I feel like it should get easier with time.” He huffs a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Doesn’t help that Beccs is the spitting image of her mom, that’s for damn sure. But you knew that from the first moment you laid eyes on her. You were all smug about it too, said you gave her all the good genes.” He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, “you were right about that.”

He stuffs his free hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels and trying not to break down right then and there.

“She’s beautiful, (Y/n). Absolutely gorgeous. She’s stubborn, just like you. Real talkative too. I asked Steve when to expect this kinda stuff but he says each kid develops at a different speed.” He clenches his jaw tightly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I miss you so fucking much. So damn much. I wish... fuck...” He stops, wiping away the tears and leaning his head back to allow the rain to clear his thoughts.

“I wish you were here. This whole ‘parenting’ gig would be a lot easier if you were here to do it with me. I feel like I can never do it right. And Beccs needs her mom. She’s got Nat, but she needs you.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, doll, I swear. I just... I can't keep it in. I feel like a failure. I need your help.” His bottom lip trembles and he makes the split-second decision not to hide it. No, he opens the floodgates and he lets the tears fall.

“Her uh, her favourite word is still ‘mama’. Got her sayin’ ‘dada’ though. And she absolutely adores Tommy. That’s her partner in crime.” He chuckles once, thinking about how the two interact.

A fresh wave of sorrow washes over him and he drops his head, looking down at the ground and letting out a shaky breath.

“I uh, I still can’t sleep in our bed. Steve says I should try but... I can’t. I need you there and I can’t sleep without you. I stay on the couch most nights. Nat gets worried but I think I’m okay. Yeah... I think I’ll be okay.” He lets out another pained breath then shakes his head and falls to his knees, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“I miss you. I fucking miss you so much. And some days it just hits me so damn hard that I’ll never see your smile o-or hear you laugh. You won't be there t-to see Becca on her wedding day... you won’t hold your grandchildren... you won’t be there when she graduates and we won’t grow old together. No, you won’t see me all gross and wrinkled and old and you won’t tease me when I can barely lift my own damn body. Fuck, I’d give anything to have you back. I would give absolutely anything to see you again. I miss you so much and it’s so hard to live without you.”

He puts his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs as he finally lets himself break.

And break, he does.

He shatters there on that gloomy Thursday morning, heart out for the gods to see, to pick apart. He bears his goddamn soul and he cries. He sobs and he all but screams out his sorrows.

It’s agony.

Living without you has been the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He’d lose his arm ten times over if it meant he could see you again.

When you died you took a piece of him with you, and he knows he’ll never get it back.

“I love you, Doll. So damn much. To the fucking moon and back.”

He kneels there for a long time, long enough for the rain to come and go, the sun peeking through the clouds and the birds emerging from their hiding spots.

He kneels there until his tears have run dry and his heart has stopped aching, his shoulders lighter even if the bags under his eyes are heavier.

“Daddy!” He glances over his shoulder, a wet smile spreading on his face as Rebecca bounds over to him clumsily.

He opens his arms and she runs straight into them, giggling madly and pushing her hair out of her face.

“Do you wanna give mommy the flowers this time?” He asks, handing her the bouquet of carnations. She nods eagerly, sliding out of his grip and gently placing the flowers down in front of the headstone.

“Love you, mommy,” she says quietly, pressing a kiss to the polished granite.

A gentle hand pats Bucky on the shoulder, and he looks up at the source.

Nat stands over his shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

“You’ve been here for a while. Thought we should come check up on you.” He nods, pushing himself to his feet and taking a deep breath.

“I’m okay now. Therapist said I should really talk to her, not just... lay down the flowers.” Natasha nods, pulling the man into a hug.

“We all miss her, it’s okay.” Bucky huffs out a breath, trying to fight the tears but they fall anyway.

“I want one too!” Rebecca exclaims, tugging on his pant leg. He chuckles and pulls away from Nat to pick up his daughter, holding her tightly to his chest and trying with all his might to keep it together, if only for her.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ice cream. My treat,” Nat says, ruffling Becca’s hair then leading the way to her car.

Bucky follows after, pausing for a moment and glancing over his shoulder, eyes tracing over the writing carved into the stone.

(Y/n) (Y/m/n) Barnes.

Beloved Mother, Daughter, Wife, and Friend.

Always on our minds.

Forever in our hearts.

~*~

Fin

[pinkmirth]

can i req some dad reiner fluff? i feel like he would have a lot of kids bc of the breeding kink 🥴 but yeah just some cute stuff pls thank uuuu!!

THE THOUGHT OF REINER BEING FATHER JUST DOES SOMETHING TO ME I- AJHSJS

THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING, ANON!! LET'S GET CAUGHT UP IN THE REINER BRAINROT TOGETHER <3

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

—DAD REINER!

 (MODERN AU + MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY + FEMALE BODIED READER + FLUFF + SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE + REINER BEING THE BEST DAD EVER DUH + TW: SLIGHT LANGUAGE)

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

Dad Reiner who was such a hot mess moments before he became a father to begin with. The pair of you are situated inside a hospital room, occupied with things much bigger than a sprained ankle. He stood alongside you, his beloved, all the while; Encouraging your efforts and attempting to ease your pain with the squeeze of your hand within his bigger one. As fretful as he feels, it's no surprise that Reiner ends up passing out a good few times, and he wasn't even the one in labor. Though, the hard part is now over, and all his worry has subsided.

Dad Reiner who recalls whimpering, weakly grinning, and eventually bawling of joy when holding his child for the first time. You'd never seen his cries mingled with such joy before. He cradles yours and his newborn within firm forearms and large, mindful hands. The pair of you sob and smile, ogle your baby with a relieved, content thrum in your heart. You allow Reiner to attempt squeezing into the hospital bed beside you, as broad and weighty as he is, with your child being held right between you and him. He’s a hot mess, but an overjoyed one who has you; and little Reiner x [Y/N] junior 🥺

Dad Reiner who converses with you for days before ultimately deciding on a name for yours and his daughter— Joyce Braun. He contemplated on “Karina”, the name of his dear mother. Though, he wants his little girl to be better than any past generation, and rather goes with a more revitalizing name, one that holds a simple, but deep meaning in his perspective. As obvious as it sounds, the name means “Joyful”. That's all he wants; for his kid to be happy in this life, happier than he ever was. Therefore, he bases her name, the root of his dear child’s identity, on cheerfulness.

Dad Reiner who tends to grow somewhat frustrated. Not with you of course, not even with Joyce’s incessant wailing in the early hours of the morning, but with himself. It wasn't as though he did anything wrong, he simply hopes that he won't. Begs himself not to fuck up with this whole “Parent” thing. If it wasn’t clear enough, Reiner wants to be nothing like his own father. He’ll never, ever shoo his child away and disregard them, but instead use those same hands to hold, guide, and lift them up. It doesn't take long for the blonde to snap out of his funk, because he's sure that he can become all the better for the sake of his little family.

Dad Reiner who wakes to your still, ethereal-like form every morning, and it's enough to make his day. A kiss to your neck, a nibble along your earlobe, and a couple repetitive rubs to your waist and thighs are enough to stir you right awake. And if that isn't the case, then it's usually the other way around; You pressing soft, lengthy kisses to his sharp, attractive cheekbones. Despite who arises first, there’s always one thing that's bound to happen— Joyce making her arrival into the bedroom via crawl, with a babble and a cute, happy little shriek upon seeing her parents.

The pair of you have no clue as to how she manages to make her way over to your room every time, but you're simply glad that she does so safely. It's Reiner’s cue to leap out of bed and scoop her off of the carpet and into his awaiting arms, clad in nothing but a white tee and the baggiest sweats. He appears disheveled, but it's still clear to see the main striking similarity between him and his pretty little daughter; Those amber brown eyes that hold the same warm, yellowish hue as his do.

He rocks the giggling one-year old, back and forth and right back again, gazing upon his squirming bundle of joy until you mention that he’s been doing so for a whole ten minutes. He grows sheepish and merely chuckles in reply, resting Joyce’s head upon his firm chest with a sigh. He could do this for ten hours more if it were up to him.

Dad Reiner who knocked you up a couple more times, and real damn good at that. There’s something of a breeding fetish that he’s got on him, which is the reason why your little family is now two kids larger. There’s Joyce, who’s now seven years old, along with her two baby brothers, the pair being a mere one year apart from the other. You and Reiner no longer have to worry about checking on Joyce in her crib, for she sleeps on her own bed now, like the “big girl” she claims to be.

Though, the boys now have you both occupied, and you’re lucky to have an older daughter who’s so understanding and rarely ever  grows jealous. Joyce, your girl who’s on more of the rambunctious side but ironically never pleads for attention, has been spending much more quality time with Reiner. Both you and him are busy with the boys, but the blonde tends to have free time on his hands every now and then. Besides, someone’s got to keep Joyce company.

Reiner happily obliges, and makes this father-daughter time worthwhile. Wholesome picnics to the park that always end in races back to the car and Reiner being a damned klutz and dropping his sandwich. Having a “spa day”, filled with Reiner’s not-so-great attempts at doing his girl’s hair, messy manicures and a hefty bag of makeup that Joyce “borrowed” from you. He spoils the girl as if the lot of you are rich (and since Reiner’s always got a hefty load of spare cash, you technically are), but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dad Reiner who’s a lot more used to this “dad” thing now, since it’s been a couple good years down the line. You and him have amazing bonds with each of your kids, but they seem to latch onto Reiner’s large, broad body at any given time a lot more than they do you. Joyce is twelve, the brothers are five and six, and Reiner’s officially a DILF— The finest one at that. His stubble stays nicely trimmed, along with the subtle creases at his eyes becoming a little more distinctive. Goes to work, and sometimes takes the kid’s lunches instead of his own, because that's just the Reiner Way.

He’s the ultimate father in practically every situation, even when looking out for peers and comrades. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that habits easily stick with Reiner, and it’s rather difficult for him to let them go. Besides, with three kids, how do you expect him to not be in “dad mode”?

Dad Reiner who utterly loves having random little talks with his kids, and never invalidates them, not for one second. It’s almost as though he can see things in their perspective, and they don’t know anyone else better to vent to other than their dad and mom. Though, when they tend to babble on about something that’s rather popular within their generation, it gets hard for him to catch up. They proceed to call him “old” and receive a good chase around the house before they get caught and looped into a tickle attack, and that's basically the worst thing imaginable if you’re in the Braun family. The reason being is Reiner’s unparalleled speed, despite his age; Thirties to early forties, but he’s still extremely fit, and has no problem running a mile if he has to.

Dad Reiner who’s in love with his family and the person they’ve gradually helped him become. You cherish him and your kids like none other, and he does the same. Sometimes it abruptly dawns on him; He’s a dad, and he’s actually a good one, who would’ve known? He smiles to himself, allowing his amber eyes to flit over to wherever you are before his soft grin grows wider. You look back, blow a kiss, and he does the same. The action is exchanged before he strides over to give you the real deal— Though, your sweet little peck is all cut short when Joyce and the boys skip in and start making kissy noises, with you and Reiner laughing all the while.

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

“Papa,” Gale, the youngest son of the bunch, calls aloud and gains his father’s attention. Reiner peers up from his book and gives a brief, questioning response. “Yes, dove?” It’s a simple, sweet nickname; One that he calls you, Joyce, and the boys.

“Mommy’s in the bathroom crying.” The blonde drops his novel with an punctuating hitch of his breath, the book falling upon the couch with a dull thump. “—Why? Is she alright?” Reiner, the man who generally keeps himself rather poised, is now frantic, sharp brows downturned at his son's statement.

“Uh, I dunno. She’s crying, but smiling too.” This then causes Reiner’s brows to furrow. “Smiling, you say?”

“Yeah. Can we go out to get ice cream today? I wanna get, uh.. Chocolate chip, please!”

Reiner lets a brief laugh slip loose at Gale’s query, but he has to prioritize his wife over a summertime snack. He then begins to make a beeline towards the bathroom, in search of you. “Soon enough, dove. I’ve got to go up there and check on your momma first, alright—?”

Gale then shrugs and hops onto the couch, little feet padding along the spacey seat as the leather creases underneath his weight.

“By the way, Papa,” Reiner then pauses, open to any vital information his son could give, “she has this funny stick thingy in her hand. It’s got two little lines on it and stuff.”

Reiner chokes on his breath, lower lip beginning to tremble and quirk into a smile. If the case is what he thinks it is, he’s got all the reason to bust out with the teary eyes and jovial whimpers, just as he did when receiving the news of his three expected children in the past.

“A stick..?”

“Mhm,” hums Gale, proceeding to jump upon the dark brown couch, “Mama probably wants some chocolate chip ice cream too.”

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

[sporadicthingcollection]

so i wanna know what cad would do if his daughter started getting interested in boys!! like overprotective bounty hunter dad mode lmao.

proof that all cad bane simps share the same brain cells

The Bounty Hunter's Guide to: Unsupervised Outings

Summary: In which the Little Lady tells a little lie of omission, her little brother makes some cash, and Cad Bane gets busted. Pairing: Cad Bane x Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~3.6k Warnings: None!

Of all the house rules you had, only one stood the longest -- no shooting in the house. And you stood firm when it was pointed out that it’s an apartment, not a house.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get carbon scoring out of carpet?” you’d said. “Keep it outside.”

Bane didn’t pay it much mind until he was showing the kids a trick shot and karked it up. Three hours, two sponges, and a whole bottle of all-purpose cleaner did barely anything. He ended up rearranging the furniture and swearing the kids to secrecy.

And so, despite the chill in the air, he's set up a few empties on the balcony railing.

Winrel "Bambi" Bane will be a good shot one day. He’s got steady hands, keen eyes, and a mind for on-the-fly calculations. But inherent skill is nothing without practice, and Bambi is a lazy, flighty pre-teen who’d rather be listening to sound slugs. He needs a firm hand.

“Legs wider,” Bane says. “Elbows up and out. Y'ain't stuck in a box.”

The boy takes the advice and squeezes off a shot. The bolt clips the side of the bottle. It spins on its base and falls off the side, landing with a crash below.

He looks to his father, a hopeful smile on his face. But Bane shakes his head.

“Close don't count, son,” he says. “Again.”

The light goes out of the boy’s eyes and he slumps. “Do I hafta?” he whines. He flexes his fingers. “Can’t feel nothin’ below my knuckles.”

“When ya hit one dead center, yer done.” He makes a note to buy the boy some good gloves.

Bambi grumbles something under his breath, but raises his hands. He takes careful aim.

The balcony door opens, and bare, light-stepping feet come padding out. Bane would think it was you except for the fact that the Little Lady's stride is shorter -- poor thing didn’t get the tall genes. Probably for the best, given how gangly her brother is getting.

Two thin, violet arms wrap around his waist to hug him from behind. “Hello, beloved father of mine,” she says, voice syrupy sweet.

He snickers. She only takes that tone for one reason. “How much does it cost?” he asks, craning his neck to peer over his shoulder.

She hops back, a scandalized look on her face. She puts her hand on her chest in mock offense. “Am I not allowed to hug my favorite parent for no other reason than that I love him?”

“Nope.” He turns to her and crosses his arms. “Y’only do dat when yer in trouble or ya want somethin’. So which is it, missy?”

“Well, I'm not in trouble and it doesn’t cost anythin’, so yer wrong on that.” She puckers her lips and folds her hands behind her back to bounce on her toes. “Buuut there’s a li’l carnival uptown tonight. Can I go? Sida’s mum said she’d drive us.”

He raises a brow. “Who’s ‘us?’” He likely already knows, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

She gives him the same dry look you give him when he asks a dumb question. “Sida, Miry, and Trish. Who else?”

The Usual Suspects, as you’d dubbed them. They’d been friends since primary. The Little Lady was always the ringleader.

Bane takes a deep breath. “Y’ask yer mother?”

“Asked before she left,” she says. “She said yes but to ask you, so here I am.”

He drums his fingers on the butt of his remaining LL-30 -- Bambi has the other one.

He takes a mental inventory of his opinion on them: Sida is a Togruta -- a narrow-eyed schemer, but loyal. Miry is a Zygerrian, good-natured and polite, if not a bit of a pushover. It’s Trish he doesn’t like. Her father is the Imperial sub-governor, and she likes to remind people of that fact.

The shatter of glass knocks him from his thoughts. He turns to see a bottle falling from the balcony and Bambi stomping his foot like an agitated bantha.

“Piece o’ shit blaster,” he spits. “Can’t hit nothin’ straight!”

“Watch yer mouth, boy,” Bane warns. “Ain’t de blaster’s fault.” He returns his attention to his daughter. “You can go, but I want ya home by ten. Got it?”

She claps her hands together and... squeals. She’s been doing that lately. He loves the girl dearly, but stars above, what an obnoxious sound.

“Thanks, Daddy!” she chirps. She throws her arms around his neck, knocking his hat off. She presses her rostrum to his and gives him a gentle nuzzle before releasing him. “Good luck, loser,” she says to Bambi.

Bambi sticks his tongue out at her. “I hope ya get kidnapped.”

"An' I hope yer fingers fall off."

Bane is sometimes genuinely unsure if the kids like each other, and he wonders if Bambi will try to peg his sister with the blaster. But the exchange ends there and she trots back inside, presumably to get herself dressed up.

He watches after her for a moment. The Little Lady isn’t so little anymore, he’s starting to realize. And it hurts a bit -- he’ll never not see her as the little purple baby cradled in his arms, mrrrr-ing sweetly and chirping for attention.

A mischievous chuckle reaches his ears. It's trying to be low and devious, but Bambi’s still a kid and his voice hasn't dropped yet. But the smirk on his lips is unmistakably Bane’s, as if he didn’t need anymore proof that the boy was his.

“I know something you don’t know,” Bambi sing-songs.

And there’s your cheekiness. “Spit it out, den.”

Another chuckle. “Y'always say not to work for free, ol’ man.” He fires another bolt, and it sails past the bottles to hit the building across the way. “Whoops.”

Maybe he’s teaching the boy too well. “Ya don’t make a threat like dat unless de other person knows what yer on about an’ it’s interestin’ to 'em.”

“It has to do with her friends,” he says.

...alright, that is interesting. “If ya tell me, you can have extra dessert.”

He shakes his head. Grinning his sly grin, he rubs his fingers against his thumb. “Fifty creds.”

“Twenty-five,” Bane says.

“Forty.”

Bane shows his teeth. “Thirty an’ I don’t chuck ya off dis balcony.”

Bambi stares at his father. Bane can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to figure out if he’s actually in danger. He’s not -- Cad Bane would never be so sloppy as to rely on a fall that short to kill a target. Not to mention the fact that he'd never see the light of day again if he ever deliberately harmed one of your kids.

But Bambi doesn’t know that. “Thirty and you let me be done for the day.” Bane frowns at him, and Bambi gives him a pleading look. “Daddy, please? I really can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

Bane inhales deeply. “Deal. But you’ll get yer money wit’ yer allowance at de end o' de week.”

Bambi gives him a toothy grin. “Pleasure doin’ business, mister,” he says. He tries to twirl the blaster, but it slips out of his hand and hits the ground with a smack. Father and son both flinch, but it doesn’t go off. Bambi's grin turns sheepish.

Bane just shakes his head. “Now spill it, boy,” he says, squatting to pick up the blaster and his hat.

“The reason they’re going to the carnival is that Trish’s cousin is in town,” Bambi says.

He dusts off the brim and places it on his head. “So?” he says, picking up the blaster.

“He’s a boy. And he's eighteen.”

The blaster hits the ground again. It goes off, shattering one of the bottles.

---

Bane is acting casual on the sofa, pretending to read while Bambi strums his kitarra and you argue with your daughter about footwear. 

“But they match my dress!” the Little Lady whines.

It's a fair argument, but you’re not having it. “You’re gonna be on your feet and walking around and playing games,” you say. “This is not a heels situation. Go put on flats.”

“Yer always doin’ stuff in heels!" She sounds like him when he gets mad, he observes. "Ain’t’chu always goin’ on about stealin’ the Jewel of Yavin in heels?!”

You scoff. “In pumps, not heels. I’m not stupid.”

Bambi casts him a look. There’s a difference? it says. Bane nods his head -- you’ve lectured him enough times over the years about it.

The Little Lady whines again. “But Momma--!”

“Mezerel Donnina Bane,” you say. “Go put on flats or you’re not going at all.”

Ooh, you broke out the Full Name. Even Bane winces at that.

With an aggravated huff, the Little Lady turns and marches back to her room. When you hear the door close, your bluster deflates and you flop onto the sofa.

“There’s a curse on Zeltros,” you say. “‘May your son be like his father and your daughter like her mother.’ Never got it ‘til just now.”

He chuckles. “If she’s anythin’ like you, fullua, she’ll be alright,” he says. “The boy, though...”

Bambi frowns as you laugh. You open your mouth to reply, but the doorbell rings.

“That’s for me!” Little Lady comes sprinting out of her room, petulant rage forgotten. She pauses to kiss you on the cheek, then him. She even gives Bambi a playful bop on the head. “We’ll-be-safe-I’ll-be-back-by-ten-I-love-you-both-byyyye!”

And just like that, she’s gone.

You blink after her. “...have fun, Donnina!” you manage. You glance at him. “Does she get that from you?”

Bambi chimes in. “Naw. You do that to Daddy all the time.”

You look to him for confirmation. Bane nods. “He ain't lyin'.”

“Huh.” You shrug, then let out a yawn the likes of which he hasn’t seen since Vincenzo passed, rest his little feline soul. “I think I’m gonna turn in early,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Been sleepy all day.”

He gives you a toothy half-smile. “Need a hand?” he says with a wink.

You laugh your chirpy little laugh. “Thank you, darling, but I’m all set.” You stand and take his head in your hands. You place a long, lingering kiss on his forehead. “...but maybe later.”

Bambi looks up from his strumming to wrinkle his forehead at the pair of you. Bright as he is, Bane is still surprised he hasn’t put two and two together as to what his parents get up to in the dark hours of the night.

He looks like he might ask, but you interrupt that by pulling your son into an obnoxiously tight hug. “And goodnight to my favorite little kitarra-playing bottle-shooting bellissimo bambino--”

He groans in displeasure as you pepper his head with kisses and Zeltrian words of affection, but he doesn’t make any real effort to get away. “Daddy, make ‘er stop,” he whines.

Bane chuckles. "I ain't gonna pry a woman away from her son."

A son from his mother, maybe, but that was a long time ago. And he didn't pry, she handed him over freely...

As soon as you're out of sight and the bedroom door is closed, he stands and walks to the balcony door. He pulls his hat off its peg and places it on his head. "If yer momma asks..."

"I know, I know -- yer gettin' some fresh air." Bambi waves his hand. "I'm no snitch. Just don't get caught. She'll kill ya."

He snorts. "Which 'she?'"

"Both of 'em."

---

The Little Lady scans the crowd every so often, recognizing anyone who might be a threat. Subtly herding her friends away from suspicious characters. Making sure to put at least two people between herself and anyone who might be looking for trouble.

From his spot in the shadows of a speeder trailer, Bane can't help but feel a bit of pride. He trained her well -- not a day goes by where he doesn't regret pushing her harder to go on jobs with him. Bambi's a good kid, but he's never going to beat his old man. The Little Lady, though... she could have given Daddy a run for his money.

But she's got her mother's distaste for dirty work. She likes a quick, easy payday, not getting down in the blood and blaster fire. At least she keeps up her target practice. The galaxy is a dangerous place for a young woman, and there’s bound to be sleemos lurking in every corner.

Like the one he's choking now. A Human male he'd spotted leering at the girls. Bane snatched him by the collar and hauled him into the shadows, wrapping his arms around his throat in a blood choke.

Overkill? Not at all.

He lets the man hit the ground and slinks out of the shadows into a new set, a narrow alley between done buildings. He taught his girl well, but he's got experience and has been able to avoid her scanning.

Something clanks above him, and he looks up just in time to see someone clambering off of a fire escape and over the edge of the roof.

He frowns. Now that's just suspicious.

He activates his boots and shoots upwards, grabbing the edge and hauling himself upwards.

A figure in a heavy coat lurks in the shadow of a water tank, peering through a pair of macrobinoculars gripped in well-manicured hands. They're squatting in pumps, managing to stay perfectly still...

...Wait a tick.

He sidles up to the figure quickly and quietly, hovering right over their shoulder. The sweet, faint smell of flowers hits him.

He grins. "Evenin', missus," he purrs.

You let out an adorable yip of surprise as you whirl around, dropping the macrobinoculars and immediately going for your blaster. You squeeze off a shot from the hip, but he dodges easily.

You go to fire again, but he slips under your arm and grabs your wrist. He pulls you against his body and dips you down, twisting your hand just enough that you drop the blaster.

Ah, the look on your face is beautiful. Wide, panicked eyes and lips open in a perfect little circle. He can't resist a taste.

You go rigid, only to relax as soon as you realize it's him. You wrap your arms around his neck and push up into him.

Every bone in his body is telling him to take you right here -- this is the best foreplay he's come up with in a while. But he's on a mission, and he pulls away from you with a wet pop, straightening up.

Your lips twitch as you try to frown at him, but a smile wins out. You give his cheek a weak slap. "I almost shot you, jackass," you say. 

He huffs a laugh. "You couldn't de broad side of a bantha," he says. He picks up your blaster and hands it to you. "Guessin' we're both here for de same party."

"Looks like it," you say. Your smile vanishes, turning into a sneer of disgust. You poke his chest. "But I'm here on a tip, not just because I'm an overprotective parent."

He realizes immediately what happened, and he's honestly too impressed at the duplicity to be mad. "How much did ya pay Bambi fer it?"

“Twenty-five--” Your brows shoots up as you also put the pieces together. "...that kid's going places,” you say, impressed. “Probably prison, but definitely places.”

He snorts. “Not if he listens to his ol’ man.” He picks up the macrobinoculars. “You see ‘em?”

You return to your squat. “They’re outside the malt shop with the striped awning. Miry got melonade spilled on her so Sida is helping her wash up.”

He spots the awning and, beneath it, the kids. Trish is talking animatedly about something, and the Little Lady laughs every so often as she sips a chokecherry phosphate.

The young man looks a bit like Trish. He sits with the chair leaned backwards on two legs, his feet up on the patio railing.

"He seems above board, but who sits like that?" you say. "Weirdos sit like that."

He lowers the macrobinoculars to give you a dry look. You backpedal immediately.

"I mean, I don't mean you--" You roll your eyes at him. "Oh, come on. We're a burglar and a bounty hunter on a roof spying on our daughter after our son snitched on her. What part of that isn't weird?"

He shakes his head at you, then returns to the macrobinoculars.

Nothing has changed in the thirty seconds since he looked away. Sida is still talking, the boy is still sitting...

...and the Little Lady is staring right at him. She turns away quickly, but he knows he's been spotted.

Busted.

---

He returns home with you around quarter to ten. The lights are all off, so you both assume the Little Lady isn’t home yet and Bambi is fast asleep. You enter quietly, him close behind you.

The light flips on, making both him and you wince.

The Little Lady sits in the recliner, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She looks between him and you several times, waiting for someone to talk.

He goes first. "I think we're s'posed to be de ones waitin' fer you to come home."

She doesn't appreciate the attempt to diffuse the situation. "What's wrong wit' you two?!" she says, jumping to her feet. "You were spyin’ on me de whole time!"

"Not the whole time--" you start.

"See, Daddy I expected. He's always slinkin' 'round like a schutta.” She jabs a finger at you. “But you?! I thought you were de sane one!"

You bristle slightly. "Don't talk about your father that way,” you said. You cross your arms. “If you’d been straight with us about who was going with you, we wouldn’t have tailed you.”

“I was straight with you!” she says. “I was wit’ Miry an’ Trish an’ Sida.”

“An’ a fella neither of us have met,” Bane says.

Speaking of fellas, a bleary-eyed, pajama-clad Bambi comes slinking into the living room, rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his teddy bantha in the other.

The boy doesn’t get the chance to speak before the Little Lady whirls on him. “Ya li’l fink!”

She dives at him, but Bane snatches her out of the air. Bambi doesn’t even flinch, just wrinkles his brow and blinks as Bane holds her back.

“Easy, missy,” he says.

She hisses a short, quick spit at him. He curls his lip and hisses back, but she keeps squirming, trying to get at her brother. He pins her arms to her sides and hisses long and loud enough that her eyes go wide and she falters. A little chirp of submission escapes her, and her cheeks flush in embarrassment as he releases her.

Beside him, you roll your eyes and mutter something about being surrounded by lizards. “Look, everybody sit down so we can talk this out.”

Bambi raises his hand. “Can I go back t’ bed? This seems like a ‘you guys’ problem.”

Bane shakes his head. “Sit, boy.”

The boy groans, but slinks over to the couch.

---

It’s a productive conversation. You do most of the talking -- you’re better with words than he is, explaining why the kids ought to tell the whole truth so Momma and Daddy don’t think they’re hiding anything. He just sits and gnaws on a toothpick, nodding at appropriate intervals when a point needs emphasizing.

“You two don’t realize it yet, but the galaxy is a scary place full of people who might want to hurt you,” you say. “You’ll both be independent and capable of defending yourselves one day, but until that time comes, it’s our job to keep you safe. Got it?”

“Yes, Momma,” both children say.

“That being said...” You take a deep breath. “You’re our kids and you’re gonna do illegal things without telling us. So if either of you ever end up in an unsafe situation, call me or Daddy to come get you.”

Bambi tips his head. “Like what?”

You purse your lips. “Like... if you got to a party and you drink something and you start feeling sick. Or someone breaks out deathsticks. Or--”

Bane chimes in. “Or ya get kidnapped by gangsters and need someone to come rescue you.”

You start to nod, only to shoot him a dirty look. “Once. That happened once.”

“An’ as long as ya keep me ‘round, yer never gonna hear de end of it.”

The kids both giggle, and you roll your eyes. You stand up. “Alright, enough lecturing. Everyone go to bed.”

Bambi scrambles to his feet and nearly trips over you on his way out of the room. The Little Lady is slower, waiting until she’s alone with him to speak. “Sorry I hissed at you,” she mumbles.

He chuckles as he stands. “It’s instinct. Gets easier t’ control when yer older.” He places his hand on her hand and gives her a pat on the crown. “Go rest up.”

She blinks at him, then wraps her arms around his torso, sticking her face in his chest. “Love you,” she says, voice muffled.

He’s never going to get used to hearing that. Not from you, not from her, not from anyone. Every single time, it will make his heart swell and his throat close a bit. At this point, it’s a bit frustrating.

He clears his throat and forces some roughness into his voice. “Love ya too. Now shoo before yer momma yells at both of us.”

The Little Lady pulls away from him, smiling. With a little wave, she trots off to her room.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[terrence-silver]

“Daddy!” A light whisper sounds in Terry’s ear. It’s 2am, beloved is fast asleep next to Terry, so Terry is facing his little princess who is squeezing her stuffed bear. “There’s a monster under my bed…” she whispers, “I wanna sleep with you and mommy.” What does Terry say/do?

Lets her sleep with daddy and mommy, simple.

-"What does it look like, huh? This punk?"-

Terry might inquire the next day, over breakfast, while his staff serves him his Beluga caviar, his melted Pule cheese with a side-dish of import black grapes while Terry acts all curious and mystified pertaining the appearance and qualities of this supposed monster and his kid might or might not have a description for him when faced with his coaxing. She might simply know something was down there --- all she knows that she was spooked. Regardless, Terry takes his princess to her bedroom, furthermore, the bed itself and peeks under it, acting jovial and playful. At one point, he might crawl under it and lay down there while his daughter stands on the sidelines, fidgeting. Nothing there, it seems. Just daddy. His bejeweled hand beckons her down there, to scoot below the mattress with him, ensuring her it is quite alright. Turns out, fears have to be confronted in order to be outgrown. Transformed, embraced and faced, until they're not longer fears, and by extension, weaknesses. A new memory is created as his daughter goes from a fearful sort of reluctance, to giggling in Terry's arms once she realizes there's nothing scary about this, below this bed. Nothing her father can't protect her from. Next time she fears a make-belief monster, she can imagine it is him down there because it'll be what she'll associate the unknown entities below her bed with, protecting her from the dark.

Terry effectively trains her fright away.

Makes it into a strength.

[whumperooni]

for shame

Pairing(s): Natsuo Todoroki x Sister!Reader, Enji Todoroki x Daughter!Reader

Tags/Warnings: incest, feelings of shame and humiliation, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, breeding/pregnancy talk

Word count: 2k

A/N: This was brought on by a big brained nonny. I had a lot of fun daydreaming this/writing this ♡

It’s been a long day for Natsuo- a hard test, coffee spilled on his favorite jeans, his phone charger stolen, his essay given a poor grade; all of that added up to a long day for him.

A shit day if he’s being honest- one that he thinks can’t get much worse.

He’s proven wrong, of course, whenever he gets home and opens the front door only to be met by loud moans. His mind first jumps to “fucking Touya brought home another girl and is banging her on the couch again” and his nose wrinkles along with the thought, an aggravated huff leaves him.

It’s only when he hears the squeal of “Daddy! Daddy!” that he realizes that those loud cries sound very familiar.

Natsuo gulps, frozen in the middle of toeing off his shoes, and stares down the hallway with wide eyes.

There’s...there’s no way. You aren’t- he’s not- no. No. If you were going to fall into something so horrible and ruining it wouldn’t be with him, it would be with-

Natsuo slams the breaks on that thought before it can finish and shakes his head, desperately tells himself that he’s mistaken.

It’s not happening. It can’t be happening.

Another loud whine and Natsuo gulps, finds his feet taking him to the living room despite his mind screaming at him to just turn around and leave the house for another good three or four hours.

There’s a gasp and a whimper that sounds right before Natsuo peeks inside the living room and it’s something that Natsuo thinks is horrible simply because it sounds so hot.

Please don’t let this be what I think it is, Natsuo pleads to whatever gods may be listening to him. Please don’t let it really be happening. Please don’t let it be with him.

The gods don’t listen- that or they’re just being cruel, spiteful.

Natsuo peeks into the living room to find his sweet, beloved sister in their father’s lap- your hips arched into big hands, your small ones gripping onto broad shoulders as Enji Todoroki thrusts his cock into his daughter’s soaked little cunny.

All at once, Natsuo’s heart breaks, his temper boils, his fists clench, his face flushes with rage and horror and shame.

Rage because how could his father do this to his daughter, to Natsuo’s most treasured and adored sister. Rage because how could his sweet little sister let their father do this- how could you let him fuck your wet, wet pussy? How could you let yourself moan and mewl like a perfect little whore while Enji spears your cunt with a cock that should be much too big for anyone to take?

How could you do this with “daddy! daddy! daddy!” instead of your beloved Natsuo-nii?

Horror and shame rushes in after his rage and a sick, hot pulse of mortification has Natsuo slapping a hand to his mouth, has his guts twisting with the sudden impulse to throw up.

How could he think that?

...probably for the same reasons you could be in Enji's lap.

Natsuo swallows down his sickness and he curls in on himself as self-disgust hits him harder than one of his father’s punches. He’s horribly aware that he’s half-hard and he hates himself for that- hates how hot he finds it whenever you throw your head back with a loud whine whenever Enji brings you down and makes you take him fully, whenever Enji moves your hips in a stir and lets out a growl of, “So needy, little one. You take my cock so well.”

Blood rushes to Natsuo’s head- to both heads, actually. He goes from half-hard to achingly, fully hard as you whimper and try to move to ride Enji, as you whine out a soft little “daddy, please, more” whenever you’re forced to stay seated on his cock instead.

A choked noise claws its way up and out of Natsuo’s throat- he can’t believe you’re so needy; he can’t believe you can take such a big dick; he can’t believe that he’s so into the way his little sister begs so prettily to be fucked.

God, how many time have you done this? How many times have you fucked your father?

Natsuo’s heart pounds hard, but it pounds harder still whenever turquoise eyes flick up and meet his own.

He recoils in an instant- fear and shame and embarrassment racing through him- but he doesn’t run away even with his instincts screaming at him to bolt and hide and not come home for a long, long time. He’s frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes away from the way Enji grips your hips tighter and makes you shudder and arch your back.

He should run. He needs to run- who knows what Enji will do now that he’s been found out?

Natsuo’s fingers twitch along with his cock and he swallows hard, stares down his scowling father.

Rage is sneaking its way back into him- rage over being embarrassed and ashamed and fearful when it’s his father that’s gotten caught fucking his daughter, fucking Natsuo’s baby sister. Why should Natsuo run and cower when it’s Enji doing something so obscene?

Natsuo holds his ground despite his wide eyes and the jackhammer thumping of his heart.

Enji narrows his eyes and then he lifts his head- haughty with a look of authority, challenge as his eyes move from Natsuo and back to your pretty face.

“So impatient, little one,” Enji rumbles out. “You need to be fucked that badly?”

A whine from you and a nod. Natsuo can’t see your face, but he’s sure you have a trembling little pout, flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You probably look so fucking good. God, he- he wants to see you all needy and pouting to be fucked. He shouldn’t want to see that. He absolutely should not want to see that. You’re his little sister- he can’t want this. He can’t.

Natsuo’s cock throbs in his sweatpants and he almost draws blood from digging his nails into his palms to keep from touching himself.

“Daddy, please! I wanna- I wanna be-”

You cut yourself off with another whine- hips trying to arch up and move along your daddy’s cock. There’s a low chuckle from Enji and Natsuo hates the smirk playing on his father’s face, the smug way he slowly slides you up his dick and forces you to take his slow, slow pace.

Enji stops when you’re half-way up his cock and Natsuo has to slap a hand over his mouth whenever Enji makes you lean forward, arch your hips. Natsuo can see how his father’s dick is parting your swollen, dripping lips with the new position- can see it even better when big hands grip your soft cheeks and spread you open even more.

It’s the hottest thing Natsuo has ever seen- lewd and disgusting and so filthy that he almost whimpers in need.

You probably feel so good inside.

He’s such a horrible older brother to want to know how slick and warm and honeyed your little cunny is.

Bile rises in his throat in contrast to how pre-cum spills in his boxers and Natsuo grips the door frame tight with his free hand whenever you let out a needy, sweet sob.

“D-Daddy, please! Please! I want- wanna be fucked! Daddy fill me! I need it!”

The smirk grows on Enji’s face and Natsuo’s fury roars among the dizzying swirl of emotions clouding his senses and judgement.

Why the hell are you begging Enji for that? He doesn’t deserve it- he doesn’t. If you’re going to do this with anyone in the family it should be the one who takes care of you the most, the one who has always been there for you.

Natsuo deserves to have you begging for his dick.

(God, he wants you begging for his dick- he wants to hear you cry out “nii-chan! please! please!” so fucking bad.)

“Shh, little one,” Enji says- voice almost soothing but not quite making it with a growl reverberating in the words. He kisses your cheek and he cants his hips up slowly to sheath himself in you once again- locking his eyes again with Natsuo as you whimper and mewl.

“Daddy is going to fuck you, little one,” Enji rumbles out- loud and so fucking pleased with himself. “I’m going to fuck you. Fill you. Give you what you need.”

You sob, the sound pitching close to a wail as you’re stretched open again. Natsuo’s vision is almost going spotted from everything now- he’s so overwhelmed and everything is so much and he is so fucking hard and all he can think now is fill you fill you fill you- i want to fill you as he watches Enji thrust languidly up into your needy pussy.

Enji kisses your cheek again and his eyes go half-shut as you tremble, as he watches his son struggle with his desires in the doorway.

“Daddy is going to fill you,” Enji continues- not looking away from Natsuo for one second. “Daddy is going to make you a momma, sweetheart. I’m going to give you a little one.”

You cry out a “please!” and Natsuo breaks.

He bolts from the doorway before he can process the action- runs to his bedroom and closes the door behind him, sinks to the floor and sticks a hand down his pants. A moan leaves him- loud and shameful, perverted as he frantically jerks off to the image of his little sister getting fucked by their father and the desire to know how you would feel on his cock, how horrible and wonderful it would be to cream your sweet little cunny and stuff you full with him instead of Enji.

Natsuo grates out a rough breath and he jerks as he starts to come- hips battering against his fist and the world rushing and roaring around him as he cries out your name.

He comes harder than he has all year and he falls to the floor after- panting and curling up into a little ball as shame tries to devour pleasure and greed, hunger, and want boil through his blood.

He wants you. He needs you. He’s so fucking awful but he needs you- needs your soft hands on him and your lips pressed to his, his cock filling your pussy and his seed spilling inside you, out and down your soft thighs.

Natsuo hears you cry out in the distance and he squeezes his eyes shut, hates himself as his dick throbs and envy washes over the mortification that should be taking over him.

He feels disgusting. Horrible. Hungry.

He wants to be the one fucking you and he hates that, but it’s not enough to stop him from reaching a hand down to jerk off to the thought. It’s not enough for him to replay the image of Enji spreading you apart over and over again in his mind. It’s not enough to keep him from moaning and rutting into his fist like some needy pervert. It’s not enough to keep him from coming to the thought of you begging for his cock.

It’s not enough to keep him from laying on the floor- a flushed cheek pressed to cool wood and his mind racing with a million schemes to get you into his bed.

...if you’re going to do it with Enji, then why not with Natsuo? Why not with your big brother?

If the number one hero can fuck his little girl, then why can’t Natsuo fuck his baby sister?

(It’s so wrong and he knows it. Is disgusted by it. By himself.

But, god, he wants it and after seeing you with Enji- with his father, your father- he knows that you probably want it just the same. He knows that you’d be happy to crawl into your nii-san’s lap like a good little girl and ride his dick like you ride daddy’s.

...if you’re okay with it, is it really that bad?)

Natsuo swallows hard and he squeezes his eyes shut, curls up tighter on the floor.

He’s a horrible big brother.

In the distance, you moan and mewl as your father fills you with his seed. Natsuo quietly, regretfully wishes that was him filling you instead and he sinks into a murky pit of pleasure and hopelessness, frustration and desire.

Natsuo had been wrong- his day actually managed to get a lot worse.

(Or maybe this is better?)

Natsuo grimaces and he forces himself to stand, wipes his dirtied hand on his sweatpants and heads to the bathroom so he can try to wash away his sins.

[kithtaehyung]

bewitched, body & soul. (teaser)

title: bewitched, body & soul. (teaser) pairing: namjoon x reader(f) teaser wc: 1.2k | est. wc: 8-10k+ genre: pride & prejudice(ish) au ; e2l ; angst , smut teaser rating: g | final rating: m summary: he is the most infuriating person you’ve ever had the displeasure to meet. good riddance. note: this is mostly proof to @wwilloww​ that i’m working on their commission AHH. willow, i promise i’m getting through it! i just wanna do this justice bc you, @joopiterjoon​, and @dee-ehn​ have worked so hard on @armyadvocates​. thank you to @yoonjinkooked​, @jungkxook​, and @taegularities​ for reading over what i have so far! important: this story is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! expected drop date: april 13th, 2021

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Infuriating.

He is infuriating in all the right ways.

It didn’t matter how you stormed through his summer chateau with your dirt-caked boots and soiled hem, demanding he hold his haughty tongue when it came to matters concerning your beloved—he had simply waved you off with the notion that he was trying to save you from certain misfortune. 

It didn’t matter that you trudged through miles of rain and mud—thick, sloshing mud—only to take shelter under an abandoned temple, ancient alabaster pillars doing nothing to shield you from the elements—he had pursued you the entire stretch only to admit that he would have preferred if nobility were your birthright. 

No matter the circumstances that cursed your so-called inferior blood to pulse in his presence, it always ended in a stiltedness akin to bitter aftertaste. Repulsive. The bookend was his ignorant arrogance stuffed into pristine, billowing cambric that you wanted to smear with your unwashed shoes. 

Shoes that you are now soaking in a wooden bucket, swishing around in the water before rescuing their soles and squeezing muddy droplets out from the material. With your elbows propped on your knees, you inspect the flats, swiping stray mud from them at random. They’re just going to get dirty again anyways. Why even bother? 

Ah, right. You are summoned to his residence yet again, as if he has some personal vendetta to slowly murder you by his presence alone—not that you haven’t associated him with the phrase alluding to killing looks before.

But that was thirteen months ago. Back when you were snickering at the poor stickler for being the only one to attend a dance with a sneer on his countenance. Your friend and fellow neighbor—if you could call a family the next valley over your neighbors—corrected you in a whisper. Stickler he may be, but poor, he is certainly not.

He had strode into the shanty ballroom with a handful of figureheads whose outfits had your cheeks burning with suppressed laughter. How on Earth were they going to dance boulangeries in those garments? Their rigidity made you straighten your back from appearing so uncomfortable. 

In the end, your question proved insignificant: instead of occupying the floor with all the other hearty townspeople, that mystery man and his posse stuck to the walls like the last dredges of potato soup in a cauldron. 

Stodgy bunch, they were. You had to coat your mouth with moisture to combat the dryness of their personalities alone. 

But your mother was relentless in her pursuit of suitors for her daughters and, since you were the second eldest, it was high time you found a wealthy gentleman to settle down with before your fruits overripened. 

You were never fond of that comparison. You still aren’t. 

The memory fades while you rub your hands dry with a washcloth, careful as to not dirty the greying, sun-battered dress that your mother had sewn with her own worried hands. You can’t flit about in your father’s trousers! You are a lady! Like those statements could not possibly be acceptable simultaneously. 

But you gave her credit where it was due: the headstrong woman had managed to rope in partners for two of your sisters, their teary cheeks long delivered through your wrought iron gates aboard carriages. 

In fact, one of those suitors happened to be in that same stale toffee group of nobles at the party that night. 

As soon as you and your elder sister had been paraded in front of them like cows at auction, a couple pairs of eyes blinked to life, one of them belonging to a soft spoken man with broad shoulders and pillowy lips. 

From what you observed, his affection was immediate and genuine. He introduced himself as Seokjin from the Kim family, a house you instantly recognized from its vast influence stretching miles and miles. Word on the dusty streets was that his servants were well treated and well fed, from the handmaids to the cooks to the stable boys. 

A smile lit your eyes when you realized that your sister held an authentic sense of attraction in hers. She had taken Seokjin’s hand with dainty fingers and, as if no one else existed to them in that moment, they had drifted away without another word. 

Which left you to the steely devices of your awaiting mother and two intimidating men. At least, they figured that they were such, but you knew their hardened expressions were ones of discomfort—commoners? how dreadful!—instead of superiority. And since they weren’t privy to striking up a conversation, you humored your impatient mother by doing so yourself.

“Seems like you’ve come a long way just to clash against the wallpaper.” 

At your jovial lilt sporting condescension, the pair of men finally shifted glances your way. You kept the same tight smile on your face, eyes alight with mischief at the prospect of teasing them all night; mercy was not a word in your impressive vocabulary. 

“Not that standing around in silence doesn’t suit you. I just figured you’d at least humor us all with a go.” 

Displeased fingers gripped your bicep as your mother shushed you, but your cocky visage stayed hooked onto the man that pinned you with an imperceptible gaze. He was the slightly taller one of the two, with silver hair tickling the bottom of his neck and swooping above his forehead. You raised your eyebrows to goad a response from him instead of turning away. 

“We don’t dance.” 

It was the other man beside your chosen victim that spoke, his voice like dark amber seeping from the trees scaling the nearest mountainside. Baritone hadn’t been a word you had used to describe a speaking level before him. 

On another matter: beautiful hadn’t been a word you had used to describe a man before that gentlemen. His face reminded you of the ancient rulers thriving in those tomes your father kept in his study—ones that led empires while drowning in waterfalls of wine and debauchery.

Tilting your head to face the handsome and new challenger, you questioned, “Why ever not?” 

“Because dancing is pointless.” 

Oh, so the slightly taller one did have a voice. Smiling wider, you regarded your initial target once again, a new spark in your orbs. “I believe that statement requires a solid argument.” 

“You aren’t entitled to a solid argument,” the man started, causing your lips to curve lopsided into a smirk, “But the reasoning is simple so I will, as you say, humor you.” 

Glee sloshed around your belly at his willingness to defend himself after being called out, despite his newfound unwillingness to even look in your direction. You knew the twisted logic behind his reluctance, though you wanted nothing to do with such trifle. 

Class hierarchy never made sense to you with it being the most unfair luck of the draw at birth. It was humorous to know there were people like this man that recoiled around others purely because the choices they didn’t make somehow defined them. 

And it was infuriating how attracted you were to him. 

You couldn’t decipher the root of it, but you didn’t want to unearth anything substantial—this relationship couldn’t stray any further than a verbal sparring match. Truthfully, you weren’t looking for a commitment. The man just happened to catch your eye that night.

But when he divulged the reasoning for his wrong opinion, the grin on your face faltered, and so did his allure. “Dancing is for the lower class to feel wealthy, if only in emotion, for a moment. Nothing more.” 

To think that you held any ounce of fascination for him. 

How foolish you had been. 

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tbc.

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a/n: if you want to be added to the tag list, comment or message me! or reblog and note in the tags and i’ll add you! ty for reading! 

[gnocchighoul]

Operation Hot Potato

Summary: 

“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the kitten in his face.

Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”

(You bring home a kitten and try to hide her from Lucifer. Unfortunately for you, nothing gets past the House of Lamentation’s resident pet-hater.)

Word Count: 3.6k

AO3 Portal

You found a kitten.

Well—kind of. It’s debatable.

You think it’s a kitten. She certainly looks like one—fluffy little thing with snow-white fur, blue eyes, a poofy little triangular head, and the most perfectly pink toe beans you’ve ever had the pleasure of squishing. 

The reason why you’re so hesitant to call her a kitten? 

She breathes fire. Hiccups fireballs. Sneezes flaming hot streams of… well, flames.

You learned that firsthand ten minutes ago, when you nearly got your eyebrows singed off by a particularly dangerous sneeze. All you wanted to do was give her a smooch on her wittle pink nose, you weren’t expecting to get blasted in the face with an orangey-red inferno.

But you know what? It doesn’t matter if she’s a little strange. You’ve sworn your everlasting love to your newfound daughter—your secret daughter that the demon brothers can absolutely not know about under any circumstances whatsoever, because you just know that Lucifer will make you put her back in the wild where you found her.

Your fire-sneezing, bouncing baby girl wouldn’t last another day out in the harsh wilderness (aka the dumpster that you retrieved her from). In the forty-seven minutes that you’ve had her, she’s grown accustomed to belly scratches, sleeping in your bed, and gnawing on only the finest tortilla chips in the Devildom. 

Her name is Tater Tot.

She sticks out like a sore white thumb among your colorful assortment of pillows. Not that she cares. She’s living it up in the lap of luxury. Tater Tot stretches—turns around with every paw in the air, proudly showing off her rotund little baby belly, and mrrps at you.

Its the cutest thing you've ever fucking seen. You just wanna SQUEEZE her. Ugh, who would've guessed that a little trash fire baby would steal your heart so quickly?

And it’s not like you broke the rules and brought home a pet on purpose. Tater Tot had chosen you. By choosing to rummage around in that specific dumpster that you just so happened to walk past on your way home from RAD, Tater Tot had effectively decided that you were to be her new caretaker. 

It’s fate. Kismet. You’ve wanted a pet for so long—dog, cat, dragon, gremlin, doesn’t matter. You’ve spent hours upon hours bitching and moaning to anyone that’ll listen about how badly you’ve wanted a pet to smother with your love. Nobody has been able to escape your woe. Everyone—the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and even your good buddy Diavolo (somehow, Barbatos has managed to evade you) have all been forced to listen to your lamenting about the pet-shaped hole in your heart. 

But finally—finally—your prayers have been answered.

With a fire breathing kitten. 

Oh yeah. Kismet.

You’re fairly certain that Tater Tot has never lived in a house. She had been perfectly content to snuggle up in your school uniform like some kind of tiny, pouch dwelling, heat seeking creature, until you had snuck into your bedroom and closed the door behind you. 

The second you set her on the floor, it was like a switch flipped. Tater Tot had shown off her unnatural strength by flinging her little puffball body around the room like a possessed tumbleweed, spastically crashing around the room and knocking over furniture and keepsakes alike.

You had finally cornered her under your bed and sat peacefully nearby, humming quietly to calm her. It didn’t take long for you to coax her out with snacks—she liked the chips, but passionately disliked the gummy worms—and within twenty minutes you had Tater Tot lounging with you on the bed, rubbing her soft little cheeks into your palm for rubs and scritches. 

You need to come up with a plan to hide your beloved child ASAP. It’s only a matter of time until either Lucifer hauls you off to his room or one of the brothers decides to camp out in yours for the night, and if word gets back to Lucifer that you’re harboring a fugitive animal… Well, favoritism or not, it won’t end pretty.

Though perhaps there is one person who can help you with this little secret.

Satan. The cat-loving fourth brother. 

Man oh man, he’s going to be thrilled with sweet little Tater Tot. You have to be careful though—you reckon that there is a 96% chance that he’ll try to steal her away from you. Trying to juggle custody battles and harboring your secret daughter from Lucifer all at the same time sounds like such a pain.

But… That would still be better than having to put Tater Tot back on the streets.

With the threat of big-meanie-Lucifer looming over you like a particularly gothic and pet-hating phantom, you come to a final decision. You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and accept the soul crushing truth of the situation.

Satan is your only hope. 

But how are you going to sneak your daughter all the way over to his room?

You look around your own room for something, anything that can hide your beloved dumpster pet and—ohohoho.

 ~

“Darling?” 

You freeze midstep.

Busted.

“What’s up, Lucifer?” You try so hard to keep your voice calm and normal. So hard. 

Judging by the way Lucifer looks at you, you’ve failed. And you were so close. Satan’s bedroom is literally right there! Only a few yards away! If only you’d just had ten more seconds to yourself in the dark hallway... Alas, the warden your beloved Lucifer aka the resident pet hater stands between you and the dusty salvation that is Satan’s library of a bedroom.

You shuffle your feet a bit nervously. Readjust your grip on the cardboard box. A bit warily, Lucifer eyes it.

“What’s in the box?”

You panic. “What box?” 

Fuck.

Lucifer cracks a smile, though it doesn’t meet his gaze. He gestures to the cardboard box that you are currently holding near to your chest like some sort of ugly, cubic liferaft. 

“Oh!” You laugh. It’s too high pitched. Suspicious. “This box? It’s just some books for Satan, it’s nothing—”

The box sneezes.

Your mouth snaps shut and you thank all the fucking stars in heaven that this sneeze didn’t flambé you.

Lucifer’s eyes narrow accusingly. Tone icy and sharp, he says, “Books? Is that so?” 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck—

You wilt a bit under the intensity of his gaze. “They’re… cursed books? Yeah, so cursed and dangerous and only Satan knows how to nullify the evilness of these books so I’m gonna just slip past you—”

Lucifer takes a step to the left, planting himself firmly in your path and effectively thwarting your desperate grand escape. A single blade of moonlight cuts through the curtains and slices through the shadows, Lucifer now caught in the spotlight and—oh that fucker did that on purpose. Ugh, what a drama queen.

Red eyes practically glowing in the dark, he nods menacingly at the box. “Go on then. Open it.” 

“I dunno, I really shouldn’t because of the curses and—”

Clearly not in the mood to entertain your scheming-slash-rambling, Lucifer takes matters into his own hands. Before you can twist away, one of his hands darts out to knock the lid off of the box and—

Books. It’s filled with books.

He frowns. Lifts one up and—nope, there’s just more books underneath. “...What?” 

“Happy? Now if you don’t mind I really should get—”

“Let me help you with that.”

Your reflexes aren't fast enough. Before you can leap back or Sparta kick him away, Lucifer plucks the box right out of your arms… and reveals a squirming lump beneath your sweater, right inbetween your breasts. The box hits the floor. Lucifer stares at your newly acquired mass with a very particular sort of horror that you’ve never seen before. 

You panic. Again.

“...I grew a new boob. I think the Devildom air is toxic or something, but it’s okay! The more the merrier, right? We can still—gET YOUR HANDS OFF MY TIDDIES—”

Lucifer presses one hand to your lower back, trapping you, and yanks down your zipper, revealing the purrito that is wrapped kind-of-securely to your chest with a scarf. He recoils backwards, looking equal parts horrified and peeved off.

Time for Plan B.

93% sure that you can still recover from this situation that is rapidly soaring downhill, you stuff your hands into your pockets and then throw them outwards, flinging fistfuls of rainbow confetti into the air. “Surpriiiise! You’re a daddy! Say hello to our daughter.”

“No.”

“Her name is Tater Tot. Personally, I think she takes after you.”

The Tater in question shimmies out of her silky prison and tumbles nose first into your palms. You hold her right up to Lucifer’s face, grinning like a goddamn sociopath when he takes an alarmed step backwards. Little puffball paws desperately try to swipe at his nose. Lucifer looks downright offended by the assault of pink toe beans.

“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the noodle-limp kitten in his face.

Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”

“As fun as that sounds, we have a perfectly good one right here!” 

“That thing is not a baby. Where did you find it?” 

There’s a concerned little scrunch in his brow that you wanna smooth over with your thumb, but when you try to close the distance between you two, he moves further out of reach. Frowning, you hug Tater Tot to your chest. She snuggles her face into the crook of your neck and purrs like the smallest biodiesel engine in all of the realms.

“I found her in a dumpster!” you say, perhaps a bit too proudly. 

Lucifer’s eyes widen. “In the city?”

“Why is that so shocking? Does the Devildom not have stray cats?” 

“That’s not a cat.” 

“Well yeah I kinda figured, what with the whole fire breathing thing and all, but—”

“It’s a chimera.” 

You stare at Lucifer. Try to gauge how serious he’s being. Tater Tot nibbles on your thumb with little needle-like teeth. 

Surely he’s joking. 

“...Like the lion-goat-lizard thing? That chimera?” 

Lucifer nods. 

Like you’re in some twisted version of the Lion King, you hold Tater Tot up in the beam of moonlight that Mr. Doom and Gloom had previously been occupying. Examine her totally normal kitten-features. The distinct lack of goat hooves. Miss Tater licks her nose. A Chimera? Her?

Surely he’s fucking with you.

But… it would explain the whole fire-breathing thing. Kind of. You’re not fully convinced he’s lying, but the truth doesn’t make much more sense.

But if she is a chimera… that’s so badass.

If Lucifer thinks for one second that Tater Tot being a nightmarish Hell creature is going to scare you into giving her up, then he is sorely mistaken. (You did choose to date him, after all. You're an expert at loving on Hellish beings.) At the end of the day, whether Tater is a chimera or a cat or whatever the hell else, you’ve already bonded with each other. She’s your baby and you are not going to let him get rid of her. 

If he gets Cerberus, then you get your funky little Tater Tot, dammit.

Lucifer watches this journey of emotions play out on your face. His eyes narrow. He says your name slowly, strained—a thinly veiled warning in his voice.

The grin that overtakes your face can only be described as evil. 

“We’re keeping her.”

“Absolutely not.” 

 ~

“You can’t be serious.” 

From the depths of your blanket fort, your hand emerges to flip Lucifer off. He scowls. 

“This blanket fort is only for Tater Tot and me.”

“Then perhaps you should relocate to your bed.” Lucifer growls.

You snuggle further into the black sheets cocooning you. With impressive speed, you had raced back to Lucifer’s room and stripped every piece of fabric from his bed in record time. From there, it was simply a matter of combining the dark sheets with a bunch of pillows and voila. You had created your very own anti-Lucifer fortress, right in the middle of his bed. 

Tater Tot army-crawls across your thigh and worms her way into the sheets, vanishing like a ninja.

"What?" You peek at Lucifer through a small opening in the fabric. “But then you would just ignore me and Tater Tot.” 

“Yes, exactly. I’m glad that we’re on the same page.”

“No! We’re not on the same page at all,” you scowl. “I’m not moving until you bond with her.” 

“Then I suppose you’ll be stuck there forever.” 

“Maybe I will!”

You can’t see him right now, but you know in the depths of your heart that Lucifer is rolling his eyes at you. 

Which, y’know. Fair. You are being a little bit ridiculous. But what choice do you have? The confetti didn't work and Lucifer needs to form an everlasting bond with Tater Tot. He needs to experience how lovely and precious and wonderful your little baby is, so that he won’t make you put her back in the dumpster where you found her.

You have one last tactic. It is by far the absolute worst. 

Talking to him. Like some kind of functioning, responsible adult, because apparently that's what you're supposed to do in a healthy relationship. Blegh. 

While you agonize over stooping to this final resort, Lucifer climbs into the bed without a word and settles himself in like he owns the place. Which he does. But that’s beside the point. 

One of your arms emerges from the blanket shield to poke at his pajama clad thigh. He doesn’t react. So naturally, you poke him again. And again. And again, until finally he sighs, “What?”

You squirm your way out of the stuffy blankets, gulping down air once you're free—sweet baby Jesus, fresh air has never felt so good—and Tater Tot flies out after you, rocketing across the mattress at the speed of light and tumbling around like a little white pom pom. While she does her own thing, you worm your way into Lucifer’s side so that you’re halfway on top of his chest. He huffs and lays there like a board, refusing to hug you, so you grab his arm and wrap it around your shoulders yourself.

Here goes nothing. 

“Why are you so against having a pet?” you ask, dancing the pads of your fingers over his chest.

Lucifer cracks one eye open. “The first and last time I allowed pets in the house, Satan brought home 48 cats. In one hour.” 

...You really should have seen that one coming.

“Oh. Well, I mean… Is that reallyyy a bad thing—ow! You jerk, I was just kidding.” You pout. “You didn’t have to pinch my butt that hard.” 

Lucifer snickers and pats your butt consolingly. “Mmm, no, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Briefly, you consider headbutting him right in the chin. But alas, that wouldn’t solve anything, so you settle for pressing a kiss to his collarbone, then reach a hand up to play with his hair, just how he likes. It’s not very ~vengeful~ buuut it’s bound to put him in a better mood. 

You trace cutesy little heart shapes on his right pec. “You know what I want?”

Lucifer closes his eyes—lets his head fall back onto the mattress. “We’re not keeping her.” 

You snuggle into his chest with a happy little hum. “Yes we are.”

“...Just for the night. Tomorrow you're putting her back where you found her."

 ~

You wake up in agony. 

It feels like you’ve had a lung ripped out and replaced with serrated knives. Or shark teeth. Each breath drags oh so painfully at your—just kidding. 

You wake up well rested and tangled in the bedsheets, your head hanging off the side of the mattress. You’re a little hazy-brained and your skull feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, but that’s probably because of all the blood rushing to your head. When you roll over and haul yourself back up onto the bed, a noise escapes you that is definitely not fit for polite company.

The murky depths of slumber threaten to take you again, so you pat around the bed with your hand, looking for your favorite demon-slash-body pillow. You pat. And keep patting. Where the hell is Lucifer?

You crack one bleary eye open, trying to find Lucifer and—

Where the hell is Tater Tot?

Your heart jolts in your chest as you realize a few things all at once.

One: Lucifer is missing. 

Two: Tater Tot is missing.

Three: You slept through breakfast, but that’s less important. 

You’re off like a shot, wrestling yourself out of the sheets and flinging them to the floor, then stumbling across the room to get to the door before your brain can even fully wake up. It’s fine, you don’t need 100% brainpower, you just need to find your baby. 

You’ve barely taken four steps into the hallway when you slam nose first into Mammon. He catches you, saving your face from becoming acquainted with the floor, and you grab him by the leathery lapels of his jacket. 

“Where’s Lucifer?!” you hiss.

Mammon desperately tries to squirm out of your feral grip. You shake him like a polaroid picture.

“Geez, knock it off would ya?! He’s in his office, what the hell is up with you? Wh—HEY! I’M NOT DONE TALKIN’ TO YA!”

Whatever the Weenie has to say to you is less important than finding your child, so as soon as you acquire Lucifer’s location, you haul ass to Lucifer’s study.

 ~

In a raging fury that could rival Satan’s existence, you fling open the door, ready to tear Lucifer a new one for not even letting you say goodbye to your beloved kitten and—

And your heart melts into a warm, gooey puddle. 

Lucifer is sitting at his desk. Tater Tot is draped across his shoulders.

Lucifer glares at you, but there's no real bite in his gaze. “Keep it down, Phobos is sleeping.”

You blink stupidly, your brain racing at a thousand miles an hour to catch up with whatever the hell you’re currently feeling that has you all mushy and moon-eyed. “Phobos? What the hell? That’s not her name at all.” 

“My love, we are not naming our daughter after potatoes. Her name is now Phobos. She and I came to a mutual agreement that it is far more fitting of a name for a creature of her pedigree.”

...You’re so torn. On one hand, you want to argue that Tater Tot is a lovely name for your dumpster kitten-chimera-thing, but on the other hand… he called her ‘our daughter’. As in your guys’s daughter. This can only mean one thing, and you clutch at your heart when you realize what’s happening.

They bonded.

It damn well might bring a tear to your eyes.

You make your way over to Lucifer, shove aside the papers on his desk, and perch your happy ass right on the hardwood.

With a bone deep sigh, Lucifer leans back in his chair. “Why do you always do that? My lap is available, you know.”

Tater Tot wakes up and lifts her heavy little sleep-addled head to meep at you.

You grin—hook your ankles around the armrests of his chair and pull him closer. “So… does this mean we’re keeping Tater Tot?” 

“... Yes, we’re keeping Phobos. But that’s it, no more pets.”

“Okay, wait. Hear me out. What about a dog?”

“Absolutely not.”

Lucifer plucks another white hair from his RAD uniform and holds it up to the moonlight, scowling at the offensive thing. Why in all the realms did you have to find a white cat? The damned thing has only lived with you lot for two days and yet somehow its hair has already gotten over every article of black clothing in his wardrobe. It’s infuriating.

His gaze wanders across the courtyard to where you’re sitting pretty on Beel’s shoulders, clawing at his face with your fingertips and screaming in terror at how high up you are. He grins. 

He can put up with the shedding fur, so long as he gets to see how your eyes shine like the stars when you see Phobos.

Still though. Why couldn’t you find a black kitten? 

“Lucifer! There you are!” 

Lucifer flicks the cat hair—lets the breeze catch it and float it away. Before he can even get a proper greeting in, Diavolo is pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.

“You’re here a bit later than usual. How’s life with the new kitten treating you?” Diavolo asks.

Lucifer steps out of the hug and eyes Diavolo warily. “Just fine, thank yo—wait. How do you know about the cat?”

Diavolo blinks innocently. “Surely you told me about her, didn’t you?” 

No, he definitely did not—oh no. 

Lucifer stares, slack jawed and horrified, because in that moment, he realizes something that he refuses to accept.

No.

No. It can’t be.

Diavolo would never do that to him. He would ne—oh fuck, he absolutely did.

Diavolo planted the cat. He knew that you would find her in that dumpster and take her home.

Lucifer has never known a betrayal quite like this. Diavolo says something about heading off to his office, but he doesn’t hear him over the rushing in his ears.

“Diavolo.” 

The demon prince in question pauses in his escape to look back at Lucifer. “Yes, Lucifer?”

“Why did you have to pick a white cat?”

And oh, Diavolo laughs. A full belly laugh that quite honestly kills Lucifer. Just a little bit.

[sunjaesol]

juke | human au | title: fearless // taylor swift

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As they were walking up the front lawn of her childhood home, nerves wrecked her body. Even her hand, snug in Luke's, felt clammy and sweaty and suffocating. God, this was such a mistake — going home, not him. He didn't even realise what he had gotten himself into by falling for the youngest darling of the matriarch.

Or rather, she shouldn't have fallen head over heels for the swoon-worthy Luke Patterson, but she never really stood a chance.

But everything had happened so fast! One second banter easily flowed between them, warm and easy flirtatiousness without consequences, the next she was at IKEA helping him pick out a bookshelf while he somehow knew whenever she needed pizza and a good cuddle. They were very much in a committed relationship, something the Molina women very much frowned upon.

It wasn't as if they were all deeply scared of love and relationships, but the Molina family was a matriarchy. All women raised families on their own, no man to help. Divorced, cheated on, died, a donor, infertile and therefore adopting children — men were of zero priority.

So, coming home with her boyfriend whom she deeply loved? Definitely a risk. She was surprised he was still standing, that she hadn't scared him enough yet.

Spinning on her heels in front of the door, she shot him an anxious smile. "Are you... sure you wanna do this? We're, like, really intense."

Luke smiled, tender. "Do I wanna meet the family of my girlfriend? 'Course I do." When her expression didn't change, he added, "Jules, just 'cause they all did the 'no guy' thing, doesn't mean you have to follow that, right? And I'm not scared."

Oh, God. His courage was as admirable as it was stupid.

She chuckled, antsy. "You haven't met my mom though."

His smile widened as he dipped down to kiss her, gently, hands caressing her cheeks. For a moment, stress fled her system.

But then the door flew open.

"There you are!" Mom exclaimed, a glass of red wine in one hand and music booming over her shoulder. "And is this the boy toy?"

"Mom!" Julie grumbled, embarrassed to be caught kissing (God, she's twenty-three!) as well as putting Luke in a bad position.

First impression of him: seeing him kiss her beloved daughter on the doorstep. Great.

"Hi," Luke said, dazzling her with a smile while he stuck his hand out. "I'm Luke. And I'm, uh, older? So..."

"Meh," Rose trailed, lamely shaking his hand. "Still a boy toy. Anyway, come in! Food's warm!"

Following her mom inside, Luke shot her a strange look, like it was only registering now all her tall tales were, well, true. Shrugging with a sheepish grin, she placed their shoes and jackets in the wall closet and then made the agonising trek to the loud, jumbled chatter.

As expected, all the California-based Molina women were present. Which meant ten, including her, all staring at Luke like he was a weird specimen. Her hand squeezed his beneath the table in support, and he was finally squeezing back just as tightly.

Was it bad she felt some sick pleasure he understood how fucked he was? Probably. It seemed warranted.

When everyone had their plates filled, the interrogation began.

"So, Luke, how old are you?" Victoria asked.

"Twenty-five."

"Going around town with a twenty-three year old?" She sniffed. "Interesting..."

"Do you have any siblings?" Donna inquiried.

A wry grin ticked up his lips, sensing the irony of the situation. "I, uh, I'm an only child, actually. Mostly raised by my dad, 'cause my mom worked long hours."

Shoving a fork of meatloaf in her mouth, Julie withheld a guttural wince at his words. Luke Patterson was the poster child of everything the Molina's didn't like and she brought him in their cave.

"What do you do for a living?" Abuela croaked, peering intensely.

His smile didn't falter, but instead widened. "I'm in a band, but I also bartend a couple of nights a week."

"A band, huh?" Mom leaned forward, intrigued. "Has Julie told you I used to be in a band?"

"How can I not, mom?" Rolling her eyes, Julie added, "You'd tell him anyway..."

"I was in The Petal Pushers, the best protest punk-rock feminist group of the 90s." Her fist punched in the air as she spoke and Julie could imagine the fingerless leather gloves and purple streaks as she did. "What kinda... band do you have?"

Her endearing Luke didn't read the warning signs humble himself, so he enthusiastically perched himself at the end of his chair as he said, "Punk-rock too, actually! Yeah, we're really killing it right now at all the clubs."

She smirked. "I'm sure you do."

"What are your plans with Julie?" Elena asked, one of her cousins.

Both her and Luke froze at that. Shit. That... was not something they've discussed. A relationship of seven months was still pretty fresh, not ready for a confrontational talk about futures and plans.

He scraped his throat, briefly let his gaze flicker to her, and then uttered, "I'm, uh, a one day at a time kinda guy."

Julie cringed, not hiding it this time. To her, it was an alright, albeit lame answer. But to her family? Horrible. So, so horrible. Gah, she had to put an end to this!

Abuela scoffed, nearly choking on her hard seltzer. "One day? At a time? What is this, the 70s? My little girl deserves more than carpe diem!"

Mimi hissed. "Wrong, wrong answer, boy toy."

The questions kept shooting at lightning speed, each one more outrageous than the other, while Julie's grip on her fork tightened and tightened in anger.

"How many times a week do you shower?"

"What's your least favourite colour?"

"Do you pick up women? Is that how you make extra money?"

"What's your view on children?"

"Can you handle spice?"

"How did you even find our darling, huh? Did you lure her into that bar of yours?"

"Is Luke short for Lukas, or Lucrative?"

"Alright, enough!" Julie screamed, standing up with a stomp of the foot.

A hush crossed the table, aghast and surprised, her mother perpetually amused as always (too many in drugs in the 90s, she presumed) while Abuela feigned to be sleeping. 'Resting her eyes' would likely be the excuse.

"This is insane! Stop acting like this and start treating Luke with a little respect!"

From the corner of her eye, she vaguely noted he was staring at her, gobsmacked. He did well, given the circumstances, but she couldn't just idly sit there and let him take all this shit.

Mom puffed, leaning back in her chair. "We haven't been disrespectful, Julie."

"You have, mom! Can't I just have a boyfriend without—"

"We've invited him," she interrupted. "That's enough of a courtesy."

And before Julie could fire back, furious beyond belief, Rose added, "You know how the Molina cookie crumbles, honey. No men stay. Not for long, anyway."

That smug response made her explode. "Mom! Can you just for once—?!"

"I love her though," Luke quipped, shy.

The fight halted instantly, all ten women gawking at him like he just spoke a new language.

And he did, to Julie at least. Luke loved her? Even after all of this? She obviously knew he wasn't impartial to her, those seven months equalling tenderness and partnership like nothing she's ever experienced before, but... love? He was in love with her?

How could she abide by the 'Molina Women Rule!' rules when he confessed that, no hesitation or stutter heard?

And so, Julie's heart melted. "You love me?"

"Of course, I do," he whispered. "Why else would I be here?"

Elena nodded, sympathetic. "Good point."

Unable to stop her smile from becoming a dazzling, lovesick beam, she repeated his words with as much conviction as she could muster. "I love you too, Luke."

Abuela shot up from her sleep with a cough and a snicker. "Yeah, right."

Mom waved her glass around, congratulating them. For the first time tonight, her tone held kindness instead of poorly veiled contempt. "That's very sweet, Luke. Tell me in seven more months how you're feeling then."

Though Julie couldn't expect her to suddenly change her ways. Damn.

Mimi scowled. "We're letting 'I'm a one day at a time kinda guy' slide?"

Disgruntled chatter rose again, and that was her cue to go. Tapping Luke's shoulder, she mouthed home — something she hadn't done before and wasn't sure which apartment she meant either, but it left flutters in her chest regardless — and he nodded in understanding.

Oh, God. He loved her. That still hadn't set in.

"And if you'll excuse us, me and Luke are going," Julie continued. "Thanks for dinner, mom."

The woman laughed, baring all her teeth. She clearly had a fun time. "See you at Victoria's birthday, mi amor. And Luke? Who knows!"

He forced a chuckle at her remark. Awkwardly bouncing on his heels, he waved at all the ladies. "It was really cool to meet you all. Now– now I know why Julie's so incredible. So... thanks." A true smile appeared. "This was great."

No one said anything after that. Abuela gurgled her drink and her cousins prodded at their leftovers, mom peering at her like she was trying to find something. Sometimes, Julie and Rose were so alike, and other times, they were complete strangers. She liked that. It kept dinners like these exciting, she supposed. Mom seemed to think the same.

They bid goodbye one last time with a kiss on the cheek, and then they hurried out the door. A giggling breath left as the cool wind hit her skin. Luke was buzzing with adrenaline, unable to keep his limbs still.

Clambering in her car, the comforting quietude wrapped around them as the doors slammed shut. A beat passed. No one spoke.

"What the fuck," he whispered, horrified. "What the fuck. What the fuck did just happen? What the fuck—"

Julie squealed. "You love me!"

"That's what you got from that?!"

"Of course!" Her arms curled around him, teasing. "You love me!"

"That shouldn't be the most surprising thing tonight, Jules," he grumbled, though a playful shimmer sparked within his beautiful eyes. "I thought I was, y'know, obvious."

She shrugged, bashful. "It's always nice to hear, no?"

"Oh, man," he sighed, eyes flickering across her face as though he couldn't decide what to focus on, as though she was indescribably stunning. Her heart swelled tenfold at the thought. "I love you, Julie. So fucking much. Even with your crazy family."

Laughing, she reached forward and kissed his lips, fingers pressing in his neck and their silly grins preventing them from deepening the warm touch.

"Let's go," he mumbled, noses nudging, eyes hooded and pouring with the love she somehow hadn't noticed before. "Before they're ready for round two."

But before he could move away, she kissed him again, better this time, and cherished his sigh when they slowly seperated.

"I love you too," she whispered. "Like, a lot."

He grinned, breathless. "Good to know."

Victoria's birthday was four months later, and Luke attended as well. And also for Mimi and Elena and mom and Abuela and Donna and every other Molina member. And when Julie got surprised with a 24th birthday party, she figured out Luke and mom combined their powers to host it.

Molina women were independant and lived life by their own rules... which included Julie.

Loving Luke Patterson unconditionally probably made her the most unique Molina of all.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @thedeathdeelers @pink-flame @constantly-singing @willexx @unsaid-emily

[suchalonelysunflower]

Searching Clearer Skies

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 1

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Safe and sound at the Crimson Islands, Y/N and Calum adjust to their new life

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Violence. Blood. Murder. Guilt. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 8K

Author’s Note: My babes are here! I would love to know your thoughts for this 🥺Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and likes are super important and they help me a lot 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue

The whinny of the horse echoed throughout the woods as the horseshoes crashed against the mud, slipping a few times on its steps but still standing tall as the race continued, encouraged by its rider.

The storm was strong and merciless, dark clouds hovering over the sky crashing one against the other and creating thunders that lasted for more than a minute. The winds whistled threats as the raindrops soaked the ground violently, flooding the path. One wrong move and everything could be lost for those who wander under this storm, but only madmen are capable of doing it.

But Calum was not a madman, he was desperate. His heart beat fast as he hunched over the horse, commanding him to go faster and faster into the darkness. His clothes were soaked and his eyelashes were glued together due to the raindrops that cut through his body like a knife, making it impossible for him to see past the head of the horse.

Lightning crashed, the thunder roared and still, they weren’t as loud as his voice calling his beloved’s name.

He went wherever his heart would tell him to, no second-guessing as he jumped over the fallen carcass of trees that were hit by the wild winds that were blowing, but his determination allowed him to stay put, never once failing to catch himself back in the moment, running faster and faster hoping to get there in time.

“Y/N!” He shouted above the thunder, commanding the horse to take a sharp left as a flash of lightning came crashing down near them.

How did they end up there? So far away and without each other. What made them torn apart? Yet, none of those questions could be answered right now. There was no point to them. Not when she was gone and he couldn’t find her.

The woods seem to expand with every gallop, just a sea of darkness in front of him, an endless void of a starless night, and an unreachable ending as his hopes were starting to falter.

“Y/N!” He cried, voice already hoarse and strained. The strings of his heart almost breaking to the point of feeling nothing but pain every time silence would answer him “Y/N!”

“Calum!”

It was faint, almost inaudible over the rain. Anyone could think that it was just a simple and cruel trick of the mind. But only Calum could recognize that voice anywhere; it was his love and she was in danger.

“Calum!”

She called again, but from where? The echo made it seem like she was everywhere and nowhere at once. Almost as if she was some kind of bird in which his name was cursed to be her calling, always chasing but never catching it.

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

He ran, as far as the horse’s legs would let him as he encouraged the animal to go even faster as they went against the storm walking right into it as he kept calling her name. Knowing that even if she was in the middle of a hurricane, he would never stop until he found her.

“You’re running out of time, boy” A sinister voice accompanied by her cries mixed with the thunder echoed through the woods, but for Calum, it felt almost as if they were whispered in his ear.

The stable lad tightened his grip on the reins and commanded the stallion to go faster “Y/N!”

But he hears nothing but cries. Earth Shattering screams bleed into his head, suffocating him as he cried for her, praying to every deity that was still loyal to them that she would be okay.

“Calum!” It seemed so far, but so close at the same time “Calum!” So he kept going.

Trees would fall; lightning would scatter and the thunder roared, and he ignored all of them. He just needed to get to her even if the world around him seemed to fade into nothingness.

Y/N’s screams seemed to get louder and louder until suddenly, they disappeared.

Calum pulled on the reins, making everything but the rain stop. His heavy breathing was ringing in his ears as he looked around, wondering where she went. But it wasn’t until a ray of lightning hit the ground that he saw her.

She was standing at the edge of a cliff with a tear-stained face, looking straight at him but not moving an inch. Her hair clung to her face as the rain-soaked her entire figure, making her white dress become nothing but a rag.

“Cal…” She whispered, but he still heard it loud and clear.

He jumped off the horse the moment he saw her, an immense sense of relief and happiness came over him as he started to run, calling out for her as the moon calls her stars.

But then, he saw it. A silver light shine pressed against her neck; only a glimpse, only a second, but enough to make him stop in his tracks, just a few meters far from her.

“Glad to know that you have some common sense, boy” The sinister voice called again, but this time Calum knew exactly who it was.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, King Richard made his appearance, wrapping a leather-gloved hand over Y/N’s throat, making her head fall back onto his shoulders as he squeezed just enough to make tears spill from her face.

A condescending, pleased smirk came to his face, watching with red-blooded eyes how she succumbed to his strength. Then, he slowly turned to Calum, showing all of his teeth in a wicked smile.

“So glad you could make it,” He said, pressing the tip of the knife into her skin “I was starting to think you would never find us, and what’s the fun in that?”

“Let her go” Calum nearly growled, taking a step closer to them but stopping the moment Richard pressed the knife harder, drawing a drop of blood from her neck.

Richard smiled “You’re smart. Good At least I know my daughter has a bit of sense when it comes to her choosing a partner” He sneered

“Let. Her. Go” Calum repeated, clenching his fists at his sides and with his heart beating as fast as the rainfall “She’s got nothing to do with this”

“She has everything to do with this!” Richard barked, moving the grip from her neck into her arms and digging his fingers into her skin, leaving marks that might stay there for days.

“Father, please-” Y/N begged in between coughs for air “Leave him be”

“Oh, I will dear. But I must teach this boy a lesson first”

Calum set his desperate eyes on her, unable to hide the fear in them as he watched how she tried to regain her breathing without any sudden moves that could get her closer to the knife.

“Y/N-”

“Cal, please go” She begged, pressing her lips into a thin line to try and drown the pain and the fear “He can’t hurt you here”

He shook his head “I’m not leaving without you”

“How touching”

Calum’s eyes became hard as stone as he turned to the King, standing straighter despite the rain’s attempt to bring him down with them.

“Leave her alone,” He said coldly, taking one step closer “Or I promise you, your head will roll down that cliff with the scum where you belong”

The King just laughed hysterically, closing his eyes as he shook his head slowly “You really think you can threaten me? Me?! I am your King!”

“Calum…”

“You are nothing but a fake! A coward who hides behind his daughter’s body. If you’re so valiant, come and face me like a man”

Richard smiled, almost as if he was waiting for it.

“Oh, Calum, Calum… That’s where you’re wrong” He said, eyes darkening as his smile widened “I’m not a man. I’m a King”

And all that Calum could hear afterward was the sound of the knife slashing her throat.

*

He jolted awake with beams of sweat running down his forehead, his whole body was drenched in sweat which made him think he was back in the woods. But Calum wouldn’t, Calum couldn’t because the woods were at home in RoseWood and there were no woods in the Isles.

His brown eyes quickly landed on his side, finally being able to breathe with some sort of relief the moment he saw her sleeping there: His wife.

Y/N had her face pressed into the pillow, shifting slightly and mumbling something in her dream when his hand came to brush some of her hair that had fallen into her face, covering her beauty from him. Calum watched her sleep for a few minutes, thanking every god there is for allowing him to live this moment, even if it was just for a few more hours before they have to wake up. He just wished she could sleep peacefully tonight, no nightmares.

Outside the window it was still raining, it hasn’t stopped since they came here almost six months ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw the sun, but he knew he always felt warm with her by his side. And she was by his side, and that was the most important thing. She was there with him, alive and well and still in love with him. He could go a lifetime without sunshine if it meant to keep her safe.

Thunders were roaring and he was thankful that Y/N was a heavy sleeper, he even was a little jealous because he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep again. He never does after those kinds of nightmares.

The memory of that afternoon in the woods still haunts him. The screams the Princess let out when she begged her father for mercy still live in his head, reminding him that this was all his fault. He could still hear her call his name; feel her cling into his aching body on the damped, humid cells of the dungeon; and, even if she won’t admit it, he still remembers the sadness in her eyes when they had to leave home because “home” was not safe enough. And he can’t help but to feel guilty.

Calum rose from their bed, wiping a damped cloth over his face as he walked up to the window, hoping that the rain could wash out his fears and bring him back to the present. He leaned over, pressing his forearm to the glass as he watched the clouds crash against one another, counting the seconds after the lightning to hear its sounds.

He doesn’t know how much time he stayed there, maybe a few minutes, maybe hours. What he knows is that he could never truly relax until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, smiling when he noticed a gold wedding band adorning one of the fingers.

“It’s cold without you there” She mumbled, pressing her cheek against his back.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, placing his hands on top of hers.

“Hmm, you knew and you still left” Y/N reprimanded, making him chuckle as he lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm “It was another nightmare, wasn’t it?”

“It’s always the same, at least the ending is”

“You could talk to me, you know? Maybe it could help” She offered, slipping into his arms and ending up in front of him, doe eyes looking straight at him “I hate to see you so caught up in there,” Her hands flew to either side of his face, cupping it delicately “Just let me in, let me help you”

Calum smiled softly “You’re too kind, my rose. But this is not a burden I’d want you to carry. It is only mine to bear”

“It doesn’t have to be,” She said. “You’ve helped me carry my burden for years, creating a safe space with you while my nightmare was just beginning. You’ve helped me so much, Cal. Why can’t you let me do the same?”

“Because I’m selfish,” He smiled “And besides, now it’s not a time to talk about nightmares”

“Why?”

“Cause the sun’s coming up”

Y/N gasped and turned around, but was only met with cloudy skies and a light drizzle. Then, she turned around with a frown only to find Calum trying not to smile.

“That’s not funny,” She said, punching him lightly on the chest. “Besides, how do you know it’s morning already? You can’t see anything past those clouds and the fog”

“Take the word from a man who worked his whole life on a field” He laughed, placing one hand at either side of her waist and pulling her closer “And you also look gorgeous in the morning”

Y/N hummed as he kissed her forehead “Didn’t my husband say I look gorgeous every single time of day?”

“Did he?” Calum asked, placing kisses all over her cheeks and down to her jaw and neck “Must be a very observant and smart man”

“Yes,” She let out a breathy giggle, tangling her hands at the back of his head. “But don’t tell him, or his ego would be unstoppable…” She sighed when his lips met the spot behind her ear, curling her fingers but finding nothing to hold on to “God, I miss your curls”

“They’ll grow back” He whispered in her ear, biting it slightly as his hands traveled to the back of her thighs, picking her up with ease without ever stopping the work of his mouth on her skin.

“Cal…” She breathed, “Take me to bed”

“As you wish”

He pulled away just in time for her hand to cup his cheek, bringing him closer as their lips met, carefully savoring their moment as he carried her to bed.

*

Life at the Isles was nothing like in RoseWood, that was for sure.

Thanks to Ashton, Y/N could keep her title as The Princess of Roses, yet the benefits she used to hold at her birthplace did not follow. Here, she was just another member of King Alex’s court and so was Calum and although it was not what they were used to, they managed to adapt pretty quickly.

Early in the mornings, all members of the court were expected to stand in the throne room to receive the King and Queen and discuss what’s been going on with the Kingdom; after that, Y/N and Calum went their separate ways.

The ladies of the court were free to choose any activity or class of their liking, something foreigner to the Princess who's been told all her life what she should do. While the men of the court were sent to train or to their own business to negotiate trades with other kingdoms. When they arrived, Calum offered his service as a Stable Lad, yet that position was already taken and King Alex thought he might work better as an apprentice of the Welder, hence the ring on his wife’s finger and his matching one on his left hand, made out of just for her by his own hands.

Still, life at the Isles was pretty lonely. Words travel fast, especially when a runaway Princess and her new not-Royal husband escape their Kingdom a day before her wedding to a powerful King. And while King Alex was very aware of the situation, the other members of the court had their own ideas, and so, rumors started to spread.

But neither Calum nor Y/N paid much attention to them. They knew their story, they knew what they went through. So the words of strangers did not damage them but made them stronger, ready to prove them wrong when they were underestimated. And, after all, they had each other and they were safe, that was the only thing that mattered to them.

“Do you think he’ll notice we were late?” Y/N asked as she hurried her steps through the stone-floored hallway

“There is still time,” Calum assured her “Although we might not make it to our places in time”

“And surely Lady Johana will have something to say about it” She rolled her eyes “I can’t believe you convinced me to stay in bed a little longer than we’re used to”

Calum chuckled “It’s not like you needed much convincing anyway, Rose. After all, dear wife, who was the one that couldn’t keep her hands off-“

“Say another word and I’ll tell Lord Gillian how interested you are in learning ancient geology” She challenged with a smile, the same one she held every time she playfully threatened him since they were children.

Calum just rolled his eyes and grabbed Y/N by the waist, sweeping her off her feet and pulling her closer to him as she squealed, trying to get away from his grasp as he started to tickle her.

“Cal! Noooo” She tried to hold her laughter as he hid his face on her neck, putting her down and wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her closer “You’re a menace”

“Yet, you still chose to marry me” He kissed her cheek “So I’m your menace, no one else’s”

“Hmm, you better” She pecked his lips “But my menace of a husband is going to make us late”

Y/N slid from his grasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her as they made their way to the throne room and take the small space in the corner, earning a few glances from the not-so-friendly members of the court.

King Alex’s throne room was not as big as the one in RoseWood, nor as brightly lit. But it was enough to hold all 30 members of the court, the monarchs, their pets, and a few servants who always stayed put in case they were needed.

All members of the court stood in a semi-circle around the two throne chairs, all of them with an assigned space where they would wait until the King or Queen asked them something, or until the meeting was over.

It was weird for the couple to see such order and respect for each individual, given that Y/N’s father was not one to take advice from people and just act out of his own thoughts and ideas, no matter how cruel or crazy they might be. But King Alex was always fair, a bit eccentric and sometimes narcissistic, but always fair and respectful towards others; not to mention a good friend for the RoseWood’s Prince, taking Y/N and Calum in and promising them nothing but safety in his realm.

He was a respected man, a noble, humble King that carried no weapons in his court because his trust was always in his friends. Yet, today when the servants opened the door for him and the Queen, it was the frown set upon his face that made all conversations die as he made his way to his throne.

King Alex’s eyes surveyed the room, biting the inside of his cheek lightly as he laid his eyes on the RoseWood bound couple before sitting down.

“Sir Steriff!” The King called, making everyone in the room shake at the sudden boom of his voice.

“Y-yes, your Majesty?” Poor Sir Cleamont Steriff stuttered, but King Alex just rolled his eyes.

“How’s the situation down at the bay? Sources say that there’s a clear decline in the production”

The questions were not as serious or as important as his voice made them out to be. Y/N could recognize that tone of hidden anger, it was the same tone her father used when he had to speak to her in a public setting, and the same one Ashton used when something about his royal duties as an heir bothered him. She knew Calum could recognize that too, so when her eyes met his she found the same comforting look he used to give her, as well as a tug on her hand for reassurance.

It was in the small moments where Y/N found herself back in RoseWood; a simple whisper or ill-intentioned look brought back the memory of her father; the sound of crystal shattering or the sound of a whip or a slap; even the shadows that surrounded the palace made her wary of what may hide inside them, wondering if there could ever be free of the crows and her father’s power over her.

Because even when they were kingdoms away, a father’s harm can still hurt and the memories may never be forgotten as long as they shall live, but they’ll live differently in a separate perspective where one is a villain and the other one is smiling over that fact. Y/N was still learning to live with that darkness, make it part of herself so she could let go and grow with it and never let it win.

Luckily for her, Calum was willing to do anything and everything to make sure that she was safe in every single sense of the word. For Calum has had his own share of darkness, the moments that haunt him at night even though the proof of their victory is still the beating of their hearts. It was the demons they had to face, but they would never do it on their own, not as long as their hands are intertwined and their love lives in their hearts.

“I would like to request an audience with Princess Y/N and Sir Hood” Alex’s voice made them go back to reality, feeling all eyes on them as they solemnly nod and bow “Alone. You are all dismissed”

The whispers were louder this time. A handful of eyes looking in their direction going from pitiful to curious to confused. The King rarely asked for private audiences, so no one really knew if they should feel grateful or jealous at the couple’s fate.

Once the room got cleared out except for The King and Queen, a few servants, and Calum and Y/N, King Alex finally let out a sigh, leaning his back against the throne and pinching the skin right between his eyes.

“Your Majesty,” The two of them said in unison as they approached the throne, bowing.

“Rise,” King Alex commanded. “I assume the two of you would not hide something from me after I gave you shelter under my kingdom, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty” Calum answered, not even batting an eye “We could never hide something from you”

“You’ve been so good to us,” Y/N added, a kind smile playing on her lips as she looked between the monarchs “We owe you two so much for all your kindness and understanding. We might never be able to repay it”

“There is no need for a settlement of debt” The Queen smiled, placing her hand over her husband’s “And we have no doubts about your intentions in our kingdom, knowing how difficult it was for you to get out of RoseWood. But-”

“But there’s been some unsettling news that traveled all the way overseas” The King finished “And any information you have about it would be useful for us”

“If we can ease Your Majesty’s mind with something, then we’ll do our best for it to be so,” Calum said with a nod, standing straighter and looking directly at the King so he knew he wasn’t lying.

“There is a rumor running around,” The King of the Isles said gravely “That the King of Roses has an army ready for battle and that he wants to go to war with all the nearby Kingdoms who oppose him”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat “It can’t be”

“It is said that other kingdoms have started to revoke their promises to RoseWood until a true leader comes along and that Richard is not happy about it. Would you happen to know anything that could confirm or deny this rumor?”

“I’m afraid we possess no such information, Your Majesty” Calum said, practically ripping the words out of Y/N's Mouth even though she was too frightened to even speak “The last time we heard news about King Richard was that he lost all support from The Vail when King Luke swore allegiance to his son, Prince Ashton. Maybe the other kingdoms got winds about the deal and did the same”

“And my father does not have an army,” Y/N added, hands shaking at the memories “He offered to marry me to King Luke to gain the most powerful army with the warriors of The Vail since RoseWood’s soldiers could not face so many kingdoms at once. The last news we got was from one of King Luke’s letters saying that my father was in shambles when it came to political power, and do believe me Your Majesty when I say that King Richard is not a strong man to pick himself up on his own”

King Alex’s hummed, seemingly pleased with the answers “I know your loyalties lie with the right side of the story,” He said, making the two of them let out a breath of relief “But truth is that you’ve been away from home for far too long to know if things have indeed changed in the months you’ve been here in Crimson Isles. Say, Your Highness, any news from our dear Prince?”

Y/N visibly tensed and her hand reached for Calum’s in an unconscious and instant move at the mention of her brother's name, the only one who’s been consuming her thoughts with worry for she didn’t know anything about him since they went away.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” She said, clearing her throat “Although I’m hopeful that by the next shipping news will come from RoseWood”

“Let us pray it’ll be that way” The Queen answered with an understanding smile “Our dear Prince Ashton must be very busy as always, but he will not forget us”

“Captain Merrick will come in a fortnight” King Alex added “I’ll request an audience with him and with the two of you. My Lord,” He said, referring to Calum who nodded “I take your lessons are going well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty”

“And your lessons, Your Highness? Is Maester Lorcas treating you well?”

Y/N smiled with ease “I’m learning a lot from the Maester, it’s an honor to be his pupil and I’m thankful for the opportunity”

King Alex smiled as well, pleased that the two of them were content in his court “And we are grateful that you’re here and safe. Now, you may go on with your day. You’re dismissed, if anything new comes regarding King Richard, I’ll let you know”

Calum and Y/N thanked the King and Queen with a bow before exiting the throne room. They walked a few meters, making sure no one was following them when Calum pulled her to a secluded hallway, finally letting out their worried breaths as they stood one in front of the other.

“Calum…” She said, eyes wide open with a threat of tears gathering at the corners.

“It’s okay, Rose,” He said, cupping her cheek with his palm, masking his own worry. “It’s just a rumor. We both know your father cannot do much with Asthon there, and even if he sent him to another political trip, the army is not strong, not under his command”

He was trying to be reasonable. RoseWood’s army was good and it could manage in a battle. Yet, with King Richard on the throne the administration of it never really progressed into anything else than a simple guard. They were not equipped for war and it seemed rather impossible for them to become a force to be reckoned with in less than a year.

“But we don’t know where Ashton is!” Y/N whispered, trying to bite her tongue almost as if the blood that might drop from it might keep her grounded “Calum, it’s been months since his last letter and I know my brother. I know he won’t break his promise to write to us; to me. And I can’t shake this feeling that maybe-”

“If anything were to happen we would already be informed” Calum tilted her head so she could look him in the eyes “I’m not disregarding your feelings, my love. But we also try not to draw conclusions too quickly. The weather here might’ve delayed any letters and if Captain Merrick is on his way he might bring news from him. We must remain hopeful, Ashton will be fine”

The stable lad pulled her close, placing a small kiss on her forehead as he felt her shoulders relax into the embrace.

“Do you want me to walk you to the laboratory?” He asked with a small smile, running his hands up and down her arms. Y/N shook her head.

“I’ll be fine, my love, thank you. Thank you for everything”

Calum smiled, cupping her face one more time as he took her in. All of her and her beautiful eyes looking at him, filled with love and comfort, he knew he was right where he was meant to be just by looking into those eyes.

“I love you, my little rose”

“I love you more”

*

The color of the liquid changed from yellow to green inside the little pot as it started to boil, making the Maester gasp as Y/N smiled proudly at her mixture.

“Your Highness! That’s a perfect ointment there!” The old man said, practically jumping with joy as he mixed the spoon with the now gooey product “And on your first try! May the gods bless those hands, Princess. You’re a natural!”

A small scoff was heard around the room, undoubtedly coming from one of the other ladies from the court that also chose to learn more about medicine. Yet, Y/N kept her head held high, as a Princess she was raised to bow to no one that didn’t deserve her respect and she was not going to let some ill-intended comments get to her, not after everything she had to endure from people that were meant to love her.

But that didn’t mean Maester Lorcas would keep the same composure.

“Lady Gillian,” He said, raising one of his white, bushy brows “Care to share with the class what this ointment does? From what I see, you still haven’t finished yours”

Lady Gillian gasped as her cheeks turned beat red, mumbling under her breath: “I did finish mine”

Maester Lorcas hummed with disdain “Can anyone else tell me what is that you’re doing right now? Why is important? Anyone?”

Y/N raised her hand “The ointment is mostly used to treat scars; one needs to scatter it across the damaged tissue every six hours and let it rest on the patient’s sink. If treated immediately, it could potentially erase the scar and prevent further damage and infections. It also works to erase any dark spots of the skin if accompanied by other treatments”

The old Maester smiled and laughed joyfully at her answer “See?!” He asked the other ladies “That’s what happens when you pay attention instead of talking about the latest gossip that everyone already knows on this small Island. You learn. Good job, Your Highness, as usual”

“Just because she’s a princess doesn’t mean she gets special treatment” One of the other ladies scoffed under her breath. Y/N only rolled her eyes and went back to her mixture “She had the perfect life anyway”

“Maybe if you stop whispering about her as if she wasn’t in the same room, you’ll be able to do something more than to waste everyone’s time,” Y/N said, not even turning around as she added a bit more chamomile seeds “I was raised to see honor and value in everything except on empty words and ill thoughts, and to respect every soul as an equal, no matter their background, something that you all lack. But maybe it’s a Princess’ thing and you wouldn’t know about that” She said, finally turning around with an unreadable face “Feel free to keep talking, it’s your right. But it is going to take more than that to try and hurt me. And maybe I could take it more seriously if you say it to my face”

The ladies all snickered and scoffed, lifting their noses and going back to their own pots as they tried and failed to get the recipe right. Y/N turned around, sending a complicit look to the Maester who stood and watched with a proud smile at how those nasty women were put back in their places with such grace.

Still, Y/N could not share the same joy as she sighed, going back to her work without saying another word.

She knew that life at the Isles would be a hard adjustment, but she was doing a great job considering the rumors that surrounded her. From the very first day in court whispers about how she was a runaway bride, breaking a powerful King’s heart as she decided to flee with her secret lover from a much lower social class. Others said she was bewitched; others that she was some kind of witch herself. No one knew about the hell she went through or the pain inside her heart at having to leave her hometown and the only family she loved behind.

Yes, she always dreamt of flying away from home, finding new horizons with Calum by her side. Find the home she never had on RoseWood, to begin with. But the guilt of leaving her beloved brother behind after knowing what her father was capable of; the pain of leaving behind all her mother’s memories; and the undying feeling of knowing something was wrong consumed her every day, wishing she could have more time to say goodbye to the place that saw her become the person she was today, maybe one last goodbye to the tree that saw her love bloom or one last trip to the square town, promising to go back one day when the skies were clearer and the danger was far gone.

She knew that time would come eventually, but without any news from Ashton, those hopes seemed farther and farther away.

“Your Highness?” Maester Lorcas asked, bringing her back from her thoughts “May I have a word?”

Only then did Y/N notice that the lesson was over and they were the only ones in the old lab.

“I must say, Princess, that I am very impressed,” He said, sitting on his chair with some difficulty “Are you sure you’ve never had any experience in the medical field?”

Y/N smiled, looking down as her cheeks were tinted pink “I can’t say I have, Maester. RoseWood didn’t let the royal family ever step foot into the infirmary unless it was an emergency. Fearing we might get sick”

Maester Lorcas laughed, raising his brows “Say, I never took you for one to follow the rules”

“Certainly not,” She laughed as well. “There were… situations in which I had to fend for myself to get an ointment or two without anyone noticing. My husband used to help me get them after I told them which one would be useful and effective, taking the information I stole from the Maesters at the palace”

“Must be a loyal one, that husband of yours”

“I wouldn’t be here without him,” She said, smiling at the memory of Calum helping her heal the wounds her father would give her, stealing from the town’s Maester or directly from the palace with the empty promise of it being the last time he would have to see her in pain because “it won’t happen again, you’ll see” until it happened again “Still, I was always interested in healing. So when King Alex so kindly offered to take these classes, I knew I couldn’t say no and prevent myself from so much knowledge”

“And let’s pray you might never have to use this knowledge if you come back home”

Those words seemed to spark something in her as she raised her gaze to the old Maester who looked at her with crystalized eyes and a knowing, merciful and understanding smile. Almost as if he could see the scars and old bruises that still covered her body. Still, he said nothing and Y/N was thankful for that.

“It’s an honor to have you as a student, Your Highness,” He said “For what its worth, I am glad that you came here”

Y/N pressed her lips in a thin line, nodding lightly before bowing and leaving the room. Feeling somehow validated by a stranger, finally someone she could trust.

*

The evening rain was stronger than this morning’s, still, that didn’t stop Calum from training, nothing did.

He swung the sword with such ease, cutting through the rain in synchronized moves; placing his feet where they were supposed to be; his breathing calm and collected as he raised his elbow to the level of his eyes, ready to strike again against the invisible evil that stood in front of him.

Grunts due to the effort escaped his lips as the rain fell on top of his buzz-shaved head, soaking him completely and making his white shirt cling to his skin, rain, and beads of sweat mixing and falling to the ground. But Calum didn’t care about how tired he might be or who might see him fight the rain. In his head, he could still hear her screams and watch her fall to her death without him being able to do anything about it.

The vivid memory of Y/N’s screams back in the woods; her father’s laughter as he started to hit her, grabbing her by the hair and kicking her sides while she pleaded for mercy on him, pleading with tears in her eyes for his guards not to hurt the man she loved.

All he could see at that moment was her. He did not care about the guards beating him up, if anything he couldn’t feel anything anymore, not while she was in pain, and all because of him. He tried to stand up, oh how many times did he try, but all that got him was mocking laughs from the King and his guards, feeling pathetic as he couldn’t protect her.

The sword made a swoosh sound, cutting his thoughts short as he started to hit the mock doll that they had ready for training. Only a crazy person would be training under the rain; but Calum was not crazy, he was determined. Determined to get those screams out of his head.

When King Alex offered him a job as a welder apprentice he took it with the condition to also have time for training. Y/N asked him why the sudden interest in learning how to fight with a sword, but how could he even explain without bringing her more pain than the one she was already carrying?

For years he stood and watched the mistreatment she suffered at the hands of her father; the abuse and cruelty she went through. Still, she managed to smile and see the beauty in everything, carrying such compassion in her heart and the hope for things to change. He wished he could be better, just like her. And he tried when she begged him to wait for her birthday so they could finally be free… He now knows he should’ve strode into the castle that night and confronted him, consequences be damned, but at least she would’ve been safer.

His heart was beating strongly inside his chest as he closed his eyes and let his instincts guide him on his next movements, imagining that exact moment in the woods and all the things he could’ve done.

Y/N watched with a heavy heart how her husband moved under the rain, hitting the target once, twice, three times before starting again with different moves.

She ponders on how much Calum has changed since they came to the Crimson Isles. He cut his hair short, fearing someone might recognize him upon arrival and bring Richard’s rage upon them; the muscles on his back and arms were more defined, more broadly as he scheduled at least two training sessions every day without missing a single one. But it was in his eyes where she could notice the biggest change, they were still warm and full of love whenever he looked at her, but it was in the moments when he thought she wasn’t looking that got her worried; she could see the storm that was hiding in them, all the thoughts he didn’t share, the pain and cold memories that haunt him.

It was impossible to lie. For Calum, it was impossible to lie to her, even if he was just hiding the truth.

She jumped when the iron sword hit the ground, Calum was still giving his back to her as he crouched to get the bow and arrow that was lying on the ground, moving swiftly towards the Alamy that stood at the other side, shooting arrow after arrow as the muscles on his back tensed.

Her eyes gazed at the sky, getting darker as the storm was getting restless, not thinking twice as she walked towards him, letting the mud cling to her dress as the rain covered her whole.

“It’s late,” She said as Calum hit the target.

“I know,” He answered, grabbing another arrow from the quiver, not even turning around to see her “I’ll be there soon”

“Calum,”

The thunder roared above them, but neither of them even dared to flinch as the arrow hit the target once again.

There were so many things unsaid under the rain, a pang of shared guilt and an indescribable fear, so similar and yet so different at the same time.

“Calum, let’s go to bed” She insisted with a sweet but firm voice “It’s time”

“Just- I need to get this right”

“Why? We are safe here” She put a hand on his shoulder, making him visibly relax “Cal…”

“It’s okay,” He whispered with a sigh, turning to look at her through the raindrops “I’ll be up there soon, my rose. You don’t have to wait out here in the rain”

“You shouldn’t be out here in the rain, my love”

“I want to be ready”

“For what?” She sighed, shaking her head before meeting his gaze once again “Sometimes I wish I could know what you’re thinking, the things you’re not telling me for some reason”

Calum looked at the floor “I don’t think there’s anything you don’t already know, my rose”

She nodded, giving him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes like she used to do. Then, she took a step back but stood still as her eyes never left his.

“Y/N,”

“I’m not letting you be in the rain all on your own, Cal,” She said, squinting her eyes due to the rain.

“You’re going to get sick,” The stable lad argued, but the Princess just shrugged.

“Too bad!” He was about to say something else but she cut him off “We are a team, Calum. Where you go, I go. If you get sick then so will I. You knew that before we married so don’t pretend I’ll leave without my husband”

Calum couldn’t help but smile, even though he tried, but the word “my husband” coming out of her lips still brought butterflies inside of him, reminding him of how lucky he was to be able to call her “his wife”

He knew there was no way to stop her if she wanted to stay. Y/N was never the one who took a no for an answer when her head was stuck on something so firmly, so stubborn yet so kind and loving. Calum could not love her more even if he tried, and he knew she loved him, too. So how not rejoice in that?

“What kind of husband will leave his wife standing in the rain?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“The worst kind, of course,” She smiled, placing her hands on his chest “But mine stays with me, so the debt is paid”

“The other husband should take notes”

“Maybe he should”

They both smiled before Calum wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as she stood on her tiptoes, brushing their lips together as they started to feel warm under the cold storm. Knowing they’ll be alright after all.

*

When the morning came so did the breeze, making Y/N shiver as she nuzzled into Calum’s chest, letting his heartbeat be the melody that will lure her back to sleep. She could feel his strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer as he stirred awake, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Their legs were tangled under the sheets, finding warmth and comfort in each other’s embrace as they didn’t say a word. There was no need to say what they already knew, what they already felt deep inside their hearts. Safe and sound as they let the morning take its time to arrive.

Still, the breeze kept blowing, getting colder each time as it blew through the sails of a ship called the Kaleidoscope where a man stood proudly with a smirk as The Crimson Isles could already be seen standing a few kilometers away.

“My Lord?” The captain of the ship called his attention “We’ll be arriving shortly, just wanted to let you know so you can get your luggage ready”

“Thank you, Captain Merrick” The man smiled, extending his hand, taking the captain to shake “You are so very kind. I’m anxious to go back to the Isles after so many years”

“You said you were traveling a lot?”

“For work, yes”

Merrick hummed, narrowing his eyes “What do you do for a living, my Lord? If you don’t mind me asking”

“Ah, I worked for several Ladies and Lords from different courts around the world” The man smiled “Some easier to work with than others”

“I see,” The captain nodded “Is that where…?” He was pointing to the scar that ran down the mysterious man’s left eye, a mark he seldom saw in travelers.

“This? Got it from an altercation at The Vail. A misunderstanding, you see, people from The Vail are… not as trustworthy as one might think”

The charming smile that man wore could convince anyone of his lies as the captain clearly believed him.

“Haven’t heard from people from The Vail in a while”

“Really?”

“Yes, the last conversation I had with someone with a connection from that place was a Princess and her new husband,” The captain said, trying to sound as vague as possible for the stranger that unbeknown to him was already aware of the story “I heard nothing but good things about their King”

“You might be surprised” The man muttered under his breath “You said you were going to King Alex’s court once we get there, is that correct?”

The captain nodded “King Alex is an old friend, and he requested an audience.”

“Would it be okay if I come along?” The man asked “I want to present my loyalty and service to the crown and I believe it would be comforting to do it in the presence of such a nice acquaintance”

“I don’t see why not. Could you remind me of your name, my Lord? That way I can let the King know we’re on our way”

“Jefferson,” The man said “Bernard Jefferson”

And just like that and with a simple but elaborated lie, the crow’s plan started to take flight.

*

*

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere-de @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| ELEVEN

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin taeyong. swearing, unprotected sex (fingering, nipple play)

WORD COUNT: 3,2K

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN

the next chapter is the last one !!

“If you’re calling to keep telling me how stupid and idiot I am, then I suggest you hang up. I don’t care what you have to say,” you spoke when you picked Taeyong’s call.

When you told him the news, you didn’t expect for him to react the way he did. He got furious, and you could swear to yourself you had never seen him that furious. You knew he didn’t like Donghyuck, but you never thought he hated him. No. Despise him.

He was deeply upset about losing you. Losing the love of his life to that asshole. Taeyong watched you with tearful eyes and left your house. Now he had to become the heartless villain because if he couldn’t be happy with you, then one could.

“Don’t worry, you made it very clear your lovelife isn’t none of my business,” He muttered.

“Exactly,” you snapped.

“I just called because my mother wants to see you, but I can tell her you’re busy.”

“Oh…” you sighed. “I uhm… tell her I can meet her for lunch tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

And with that, he hung up.

“Your mother isn’t in town,” Jaemin furrowed, looking at Taeyong.

“I know.”

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re being like this?” Jaemin questioned.

“What do you mean?” Taeyong unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat on his chair.

“All weird. You should be happy for her.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “And who did she end up with.”

“Donghyuck loves her, yeah, I mean, I don’t exactly support his past but he wants to change and is paying for what he did,” Jaemin shrugged.

“Donghyuck is an asshole,” Taeyong darted his eyes to him.

“But she loves him.”

Taeyong huffed, placing both hands on his desk. Jaemin tilted his head, confused. “Are you perhaps jealous?”

“Why would I be?” Taeyong let his head rest in his hand.

“You tell me.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Jaemin. Go home.”

“Am I?” Jaemin glared at him.

“Fuck off,” Taeyong snorted.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" Jaemin narrowed his eyes sometimes with slight head tilt

"Yes." Taeyong massaged his temples. "But I guess it doesn't fucking matter now."

"Why you never told her?" Jaemin's voice softened and sat in front of him.

"Because I'm an idiot," Taeyong shook his head in hesitation. "And now she's high off her ass on feelings for him."

Jaemin sighed. "There are plenty of women out there, Tae. Maybe she wasn't for you."

"Yeah." Taeyong stroked his cheek, still head resting in his palm. "Whatever."

After Jaemin left, Taeyong decided to go for a ride and somehow ended up in where your father was hiding. It was one of his warehouses anyways. He parked his car and got off of it. He walked up the stairs and opened the door and found your father sitting on the couch, reading a book.

"Isn't a bit late for visits?" Your father queried, eyes still on the book.

"Your daughter's gonna get married," Taeyong closed the door behind him.

"Congratulations I guess?" He smarted.

Taeyong sighed frustrated. "That wedding can't happen."

"Well, in case you don't recall I don't have the best relationship with her."

"I need to play it by ear something," Taeyong placed his hands on his hips, walking around the room.

"Why do you even care?" Your father glanced at him and then he furrowed.

Taeyong stayed quiet and looked at him. "Now I get why you have me here. This is a passionate revenge.”

Taeyong cocked an eyebrow, looking at him. "You want me to get rid of him, don't you?" Your father inquired.

"That wasn't the plan, but I don't dislike what you said at all." Taeyong sat in front of him.

"I would gladly kill him," Your father smirked. "That son of a bitch ruined my plans. If I didn't get my happy ending then neither does he."

"You know," your father placed the book on the table and continued speaking, "Yuta and I's plan was great, and Haechan or whatever his name is, he simply couldn't keep his hands to himself and fucked up everything.”

“Please don’t remind me you tried to murder her because I still want to rip your head off,” Taeyong snapped.

Your father laughed. “And what's your plan, pretty boy? Killing him and then making her fall in love with you?”

“I wouldn't mind that at all,” Taeyong tilted his head.

“If she never fell in love with you, what makes you think she will after losing his beloved boyfriend?” Your father smarted.

“Because this time I am not a teenager, I am a man,” Taeyong smirked. “A man who is willing to be with her in her grief.”

“You’re pretty messed up, kid.”

“Wanna talk about messed up?” Taeyong raised an eyebrow.

Your father shook his head. “So, do you have something in mind or do you want me to think of something?”

“I have something planned.” Taeyong smiled.

You were waiting for Taeyong's mom outside her favorite restaurant. You frowned when you realized she was late. She was never late for anywhere.

You sighed and got up from the table determined to leave, when Taeyong appeared in front of you. You weren't happy to see him, which was weird. If it had been another occasion, you would be very glad to see him and have lunch together. But not now. You were furious with him.

"You're leaving already?" He asked, looking at you.

You nodded. "I guess your mother couldn't come."

Taeyong pressed his lips together. "I lied to you, she's not even in town."

"Then I better go," you grabbed your bag and walked beside him to leave the restaurant. He grabbed your arm, making you turn back to face him.

You yanked yourself free and hissed. “I don’t wanna argue with you again, Taeyong. I’m leaving.”

"Just... listen to me, please?" His eyes darted yours. "Please."

You let out a resigned sigh. "Fine."

You both sat, him in front of you. "I'm sorry for the way I talked to you. I just... I don't think he's the best for you. I wan-" You opened your mouth but he waved a hand to shoo you. "Let me finish, please."

You bobbed your head. "You know I love you and after what happened, I just want you to be okay. You love Donghyuck, I get it. Still, I don't like him but I'm not gonna lose my friend because of it. You're more important than what I think. So I'm sorry."

You let out a wistful sigh. "I really thought I would never speak to you again. Your words hurt me."

"I know," Taeyong reached out by taking his hand in yours. "And I hate myself so much because of it. I'm sorry."

You nodded and grinned. "Okay."

He cocked his head cutely. "Yes?"

"Yes," you giggled. "Don't do that face. It's impossible to say no to it."

"I know," he winked at you.

And Taeyong smiled to himself. His plan had just begun.

(...)

"Hyuck - fuck," You gasped, fingers tightening in Donghyuck's hair. He only sucked harder, pressing marks into your neck, your fingers continuing appreciating Donghyuck's new gains.

Donghyuck had been training for the past few months and new gains meant the definition in his arms, stomach, thighs and chest. You liked it, God, you liked it. You liked it so much.

He slowly made his way to your nipples where he wet them, biting roughly just to hear you gasp, before blowing on them.

Your shirt essentially torn off, thanks to Donghyuck. You moaned, fingers finding your boyfriend's waist and squeezing.

You gasped as Donghyuck bit down hard on your right boob, before dropping his head right smack in the middle of your chest, breathing heavily as he went to grip your thighs.

"(Y/N)" He was out of breath, moving his hands up to squeeze your waist.

"Hyuck, don't do that" You whined, but still hummed as Donghyuck pressed a kiss from where he rested, right on your sternum.

Donghyuck's lips curved into a smirk, "Do what, love? I love your boobs. They're beautiful." He sounded affected, but smug.

You didn't respond, so Donghyuck took it as encouragement, scraping his teeth over to suck on a nipple, drawing low moans out of you. While one hand dropped down to cup your clothed sex, the other kept squeezing, playing with the other boob. You hissed and bit your lip. “Stop teasing.”

“I’m just taking my time, love.” Donghyuck pressed kisses on your stomach and his hands went to your thighs, stroking them.

You sighed, impatience.  

Lips still touching your skin, he dragged his mouth over to bite your right thigh. You choked, hands suddenly coming to grip Donghyuck's hair.

You needed him inside him. Now.

You fumbled with his pants, unzipping them shakily.

"Hey- fuck, love, wait," Donghyuck mumbled, but lifted his hips obediently when you whined about it. He happily squirmed out of his own pants and boxers when you decided to return the favour.

Your hand was pressed into his hard cock. Right. You were too horny to even wait till you got to the bedroom.

He couldn't blame you, honestly. When you got home after having lunch with Taeyong, you saw Donghyuck working out. You got horny and interrupted his workout session by pushing to the couch without a second thought. And after a steamy make out session, there you were, beneath him.

Without a second thought, he licked his fingers and shoved two up your dripping cunt, eager to start. All the while, you cooed and ran your hands up and down his arms. Donghyuck went back to kissing your chest, gasping all the while.

He had the decency to twist his fingers, quickly finding your sweet spot. You gasped, throwing your head back, feeling dizzy with pleasure.

“Donghyuck,” you gasped, “Hyuck- please.” Lucky for you, Donghyuck seemed just as affected, flushed and panting as he added a third finger, thrusting a little faster just to hear you whimper.

Through the haze, you fumbled with the elastic of Donghyuck's boxers, pulling them down hastily and as best as he could with three fingers stuffed up your pussy. You didn’t even get them all the way down. You needed him inside you, told him so.

Donghyuck gasped, “You’re not ready yet.”

“I don’t care,” You moaned, tugging on his wrist with one hand and squeezing the head of Donghyuck¡s dick with the other, “Need you inside, baby.”

“Fuck, fuck, okay, hold on-” Donghyuck muttered, eyelashes fluttering at the friction.

You kissed his chest, just once, before Donghyuck aligning himself with your entrance, lowering himself down quickly even though it hurt. But as he had learned, you liked that little bit of pain.

They moaned in unison as you began to move, impatient already. Donghyuck's hands flew to your waist, gasping.

“Hey, woah, fuck- love,” he groaned, trying to stop himself from fucking into you as he slowed his hips to a slow grind, throwing his head back teasingly. “Gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned, eyes fluttering in pleasure.

You laughed breathlessly, "Then come, baby. I'll just make you come again, and again, and again." Donghyuck gasped, digging his fingers into your waist. You hoped he left bruises, hoped he wrecked you.

Donghyuck dug his heels into the couch and thrusted up into you. You moaned enthusiastically.

Donghyuck smirked and kissed you, before thrusting up just to hear you moan.

His gaze turned darker, nails digging into your waist.

"Ah- Hyuck," You arched your back when you felt him going deeper. "Fuck fuck fuck. I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, love," Donghyuck hissed, kissing your neck.

With one more thrust, something snapped inside you and you were coming hard, molten pleasure flooding every inch of your body, pussy fluttering around Donghyuck's cock as he came too, thrusting mindlessly to prolong both your orgasms.

Donghyuck groaned. "Fuck, you're so hot, love." You felt your eyes roll back into your head when he got the angle just right.

Donghyuck's pupils were blown wide, mouth kissed red with a slight sheen of sweat over his whole body. He looked delicious, and made you want even more despite having you both climaxed.

You two had to take a break, panting as you came down from their highs. Donghyuck pulled himself out of you, wincing as it slowly slipped out, rubbing against your oversensitive walls. You cooed softly and reached up to kiss him. Donghyuck smiled softly and lay next to you, eyes half closed, clearly tired.

Your eyes then quickly found the hickeys on your chest and stomach. Particularly your chest. Though they were recent, they were already turning a deep red, and no doubt would turn purple overnight. Donghyuck grinned, proudly. His hand reached out to run it over your crotch.

You, seemingly oblivious, was startled to attention at his touch, and looked down. Your eyes immediately widened, and you gasped, smacking his hand away.

“Oh, my fucking God.” You whined. "You gave me hickeys in my pussy!"

"It's technically not your pussy," he shrugged.

“You’re feral. I have a feral fiancé. I can’t believe… this.” You growled.

Pouting, Donghyuck pulled your hands away and kissed your neck softly.

“Don’t. You look good. You look like you’re mine.” You rolled your eyes fondly, turning your head to bite his lip, prompting a sweet smile from him.

“I’m gonna have a hard time covering these up,” you murmured, pulling him closer to you.

“Don’t.” Donghyuck repeated, laughing airily at your groan. He was a nightmare. "Plus, it's not like someone is going to see them besides me."

“You say so…”

Donghyuck tilted his head to the side, eyes darting to you. “Excuse me?”

You laughed. “I’m kidding, babe.”

He groaned and got on top of you. “I’m gonna show you who you belong to.”

“Another round?” You giggled, clamping your thighs on his waist and locked your ankles. “Why are you always so horny?”

“Because you’re so hot,” he smirked and kissed you. “And you made me mad.”

“I was joking!”

“Too bad.” Without any warning, he pulled away and flipped you over. You cried out in surprise. "Keep your ass down."

"Make me." You smirked.

"Oh love, I am gonna make you eat those words.” Donghyuck slightly spanked you.

(...)

You were in your office when the office phone rang; it was your assistant telling you Taeyong was outside. You told her to let him in. You stood up and fixed your skirt. Taeyong opened the door behind him and smiled at you, greeting you. “Hey you.”

“Hey,” you smirked. He walked to you and kissed your cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“I just had lunch with a friend a couple of blocks away and thought of visiting you,” he explained.

“Oh,” you nodded.

“Are you busy? If you are I can leave,” Taeyong looked at you.

“I’m not,” you assured him. “Take a seat, you want something to drink?”

“I’m okay,” he sat on the leather couch and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “How are you?”

You sat next to him, propping your elbows on the outside back. “I’m great. Hyuck’s getting removed the electronic tracking anklet this weekend.”

He slowly nodded. “Are you guys going somewhere to celebrate it?”

“We’re going somewhere but I still don’t know,” you giggled. “Donghyuck planned something and he refuses to tell me where we’re going.”

“Great, that’s great,” he smiled forcibly. “I hope you guys have a great time.”

“Thank you,” you beamed. “I was also thinking you, Jaemin, Lena and I should go somewhere. It’s been ages since we traveled together.”

Taeyong cocked his head cutely. “Where should we go then?”

“The mountains? I don’t know,” you pouted. “Some places where we can have fun but also stay away from everyone.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he smiled. “You should invite Donghyuck.”

“Are you gonna be okay with it?” You questioned. “I know you don't like him and I don't want it to be awkward for both of you.”

“I’ll be okay, don't worry,” he shook his head and gave you a comforting smile.

“Fantastic!” You clapped your hands together, smiling.

Taeyong tilted his head, looking at you.  He noticed that your skin looked more rosy and shiny. Almost like glowing. “You look… different.”

You frowned. “Different? How so?”

“I don’t know, but you do look different.”

“Maybe it’s because I got a trim yesterday,” you shrugged.

“Yeah… maybe.”

Taeyong shook his head. “So, when would the trip be?”

“Maybe in 3 weeks?”

“Yeah, I’ll clean my schedule.”

(...)

You snuggled up to your boyfriend, watching the bonfire that burned in the pit before you on the beach. And right now, there was no place you’d rather be than in his arms, lost in the beat of a nearby boombox and the hypnotic glow of the fire.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered in your ear as the fire began to die down. You looked at Donghyuck, with a relaxed smile on your face.

“Just how wonderful tonight is. Being in your arms,” you sighed, softly. “I don’t want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he said, as he took your left hand in his, and slipped something on your finger. “Marry me?” he asked while you looked down and saw the silver diamond band he placed on your hand.

You turned around to face him. “Wait, are you serious?”

Donghyuck laughed at this. “No,” he said. “I keep fake engagement rings in my pocket just to fuck with people.” He never could control his sarcasm. “Peel back the diamonds, and that’s pure white chocolate.”

“I’m serious, smartass,” you said, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“So am I,” he replied. “About the proposal, I mean. Not the chocolate.”

“I thought you proposed before..."

"I did, but I didn't have a ring back then," he smiled. "So? Will you marry me?"

"Yes, of course!" you said, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug that sent both of you off of the log Donghyuck was perched on. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Lee Donghyuck,” you whispered in between soft kisses placed on his even softer lips.

He smirked and kissed you back. “Let’s not wait,” you whispered.

“Wait for what?”

“To get married,” you said, louder, as you sat back down on the log. “I never wanted the big wedding anyway. All I want is to be yours. Forever.”

“I guess we could go down to the courthouse tomorrow,” your fiancé pondered.

"We could do that. I don't mind," he beamed. "But we need witnesses and we don't know one here."

You giggled. "My friends will be upset if they are not my witnesses."