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#i want to put the jam on his toast
illiana-mystery · 1 year
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Oh no, he's hot. 🥵🥵
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izurou · 1 year
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“say ‘i’m the man!’”
eren’s voice carries down the hall, boisterous and loud as it easily reaches every corner of your small one bedroom apartment.
you furrow your brows and glance in the general direction of the sound, but decide to ignore it and continue on with breakfast—gathering a dollop of strawberry jam on your knife before spreading it onto a piece of toast.
you’d rather not know what the two of them are up to, eren and your two year old son that is. he’s supposed to be getting the kid ready for the day, but whether or not that’s actually happening is a different story.
“i’m da man!” his little voice repeats the sentence—not quite as powerful as his dad, but still loud enough to find your ears.
“louder!” eren shouts, and you immediately drop what you’re doing to head towards them.
your slippers scuff against the floor as you shuffle down the hall, following the source of sound until it leads you just outside the bathroom door. you nudge it with your foot, causing it to creep open and reveal the duo—your son, who’s standing on the counter, and eren, who—at the very least, is holding onto him.
“hi,” eren grins, prompting his mini me to do the same. you note the atrocious man bun, well, little man bun your son is sporting—hair haphazardly pulled together at the back of his head.
eren gestures to him, pride flooding his features as he mumbles, “he’s the man.”
“oh yeah?” a smile tugs at your own lips—every ounce of authority you waltzed over here with threatening to vanish into thin air as you look at your little family. nevertheless, someone has to enforce the rules around here. “well, tell the man that if he doesn’t keep it down, he’s not getting any chocolate milk with his breakfast.”
the two of them exchange a glance, an identical look of concern—real and genuine from your son, dramatic and over the top from your fiancé.
“should we go eat?” eren whispers to him, naively expecting him to follow in his footsteps again.
“yeah!” your son yells, excitement filling his eyes at the mention of his all time favourite beverage. he sets a new record every time he chugs a glass, and always gets a kick out of the little moustache he gets afterwards—loving that he looks like dad.
“buddy,” eren laughs as he lightly cups a hand over the toddler’s mouth. “shhh, quiet okay? you heard the boss, no chocolate milk if you yell.”
your son puts his hand over his own mouth and nods his head, prompting eren to lift him onto the floor and send him scurrying off into the kitchen—little feet padding against the hardwood.
“what the hell?” you say, keeping your voice low to ensure your baby doesn’t hear. “it’s 8 o’clock in the morning, why are you shouting?”
“hey, i’m instilling confidence in him,” he pouts, having heard you mention something along those lines once or twice—about how important it is for him to be proud of who he is.
“eren,” you sigh, because you know he means well—he wants nothing but the absolute best for your son too, which is why he more or less lets him do as he pleases.
he encourages him to jump around and dance to his favourite songs, and doesn’t care that he gets marker all over his face when he colours. he’ll give him bear paws before dinner, and hold his hand as the two of them run and giggle down the halls of your apartment building, because they’re just so happy to come home and see you after a trip to the grocery store.
eren lets your kid be a kid, and while that might put a scowl on the face of those around you, all that matters is that your son is always smiling.
“i know, just,” you pause, searching for the right words—the ones that won’t paint you as the bad cop you feel you’re being. though, you look into eren’s eyes, and see nothing but the purest love and adoration overflowing from his pupils, and you know—he thinks you’re doing perfect. “just, wait until after ten at least, okay? that old couple next door already has us on their shit list.”
“course, ‘m sorry baby,” he hums—cupping your cheek with a grin that’s a little too smug and out of place to be there right now. “but you know, you got us on that list, not him.”
“me?” you tilt your head, racking your brain for a time in which you might’ve pissed them off. did you forget to hold the door open? shit.
“mhmm,” he hums, moving his hand to the back of your head to hold you flush against him, and you look adorable—in the reflection of the mirror, with your little thinking face on and your cheek squished against him. he almost feels guilty.
“what did i—”
“nghhh eren, that feels soooo good,” he moans, quiet and sultry—changing the pitch of his voice slightly in an attempt to mimic your own.
“eren!” you gasp, planting your palms flat on his chest to push him away. “shut up, you’re the only reason i sound like that.”
“damn right,” he grins, pulling you right back in for a messy kiss—hands sneaking underneath your shirt and travelling up your—
crash.
“oh no,” you mumble, peeling yourself away from him once more. your son—who’s been alone and suspiciously quiet for the last five minutes, is now doing god knows what in the kitchen. “go check on your satan spawn, would you?”
“hey,” he frowns, swiftly backing out of the room and towards the noise, but not without putting on a quick smile to clarify, “our satan spawn.”
you roll your eyes, but still feel the corners of your lips tug upwards. eren is far from perfect, but he’s pretty good at keeping a smile on your face too.
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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no nut november — lee know (winner)
pairing: lee minho x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex
a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi's and i’s collab <3
word count: 4.3k
series masterlist
“God, that feels so good,” you whine.
Minho’s head pops up from between your legs and he grins, chin shiny with your arousal. “You close?”
“I was until you stopped,” you grumble.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says with a pout. 
You push his head lightly. “You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
You roll your eyes. “Just because you can’t cum doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“I thought we were in this together,” Minho whines. 
“You really want to deal with a girlfriend who hasn’t cum in a month?”
“Good point.”
With that, Minho gets back to work. He’s teasing you purposely, this time, dragging his tongue up and down your slit without staying in one place long enough to be effective.
“Minho.”
“Hm?”
“Please...”
“Please what?”
“Need more.”
“Use your words, baby- hey. Don’t squirm.”
He presses down on your hips to keep you still, basically wrestling you into place. You surrender to him but only because you know he’s stronger. Minho smacks your cunt twice, each time making you jolt slightly. 
“Let’s try this again. Use your words to ask for what you want.”
“Can I- can I have something inside? Like your fingers or your tongue?”
“What about my cock?”
“What about it?”
“You don’t want my cock inside of you?”
“Of course I do, I always do. I just... didn’t think that was on the table.”
“Why not?”
“Are you really going to make me say it?” you groan. 
“You don’t think I can control myself?” Minho accuses.
“No, actually, I don’t!”
He sits up, hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”
“You just get very... passionate when we have sex.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that once you start, you can’t stop.”
Minho narrows his eyes at you like you’re challenging him, even though that isn’t your intention at all. You don’t want him to lose on your account, but you can only resist your irresistible boyfriend offering you his dick on a silver platter for so long. 
“I can’t believe you think that little of me!”
“It’s not that you can’t last, Min- we both know you can. You just like to... finish something once you’ve started.”
“Is that supposed to be a pun?”
You grin. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re such a loser.”
“That you’re in love with.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky that’s the case.”
“And here I was thinking you’re the lucky one.”
“Oh, I definitely am. Listening to your terrible jokes is a small price to pay for getting to be your person.”
You push his chest bashfully. “Don’t get all cheesy now.”
“Why not? Can’t take it?”
“No, actually. I can’t. If you keep pouring your heart out to me like that I’ll die on the spot and then you’ll go away for my murder. “
“Worst they could get me for is manslaughter,” Minho scoffs like he’s brushing off the possibility. 
“So comforting to hear when you have me pinned underneath you.”
He smirks. “Did you want to get fucked or not? I do have to work later tonight.”
You sigh, shrugging. If he was so insistent about it, you weren’t going to fight it anymore. You were only trying to do him a favor in the first place. His funeral and all that. 
“Give it to me.”
Minho’s smirk turns into a genuine grin and he rubs your thighs in excitement. “I know you wanted something inside but did you want me to make you cum before fucking you?” You shake your head no. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, just put it in.”
“So romantic.”
Despite the sarcasm in his voice, Minho scoots up so that his face is just inches above yours and kisses you deeply, getting you to moan so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like you, unsurprisingly, and like the strawberry jam you put on your toast in the mornings. 
“Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby,” he whispers. You do, and he praises you for it. “There you go.”
One of his hands comes down in between your legs to rub your clit as he eases himself inside of you. The fit is perfect, like always, but the stretch is obviously a little more intense than usual. 
“You alright?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute.”
While he waits, he just lies on top of you, ignoring your complaints when you tell him you can’t breathe. Then, you tap him on the back twice to let him know he can move so he does. 
Minho isn’t one to jump right into fucking the life out of you, preferring to start slow and build gradually build the pace, and today is no different. He’s even slower than he normally is, being extra considerate of your disposition. 
“You can go faster,” you urge him. “I promise I won’t break.”
You see him hesitate, almost like he wants to ask you if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. It’s something he’s been working on, trusting you to be honest about what you want in the bedroom, much like you’ve been working on telling him what you want in the bedroom. “Wrap your legs around my waist, baby.”
You moan as soon as you lock your ankles behind his back, the angle already pushing him deeper inside of you. 
“Oh fuck,” you gasp. 
“Atta girl. So good for me when you wanna be, huh?”
You nod, whimpering. 
He keeps his fingers on your clit as he fucks you, wanting to get you to the edge as fast as possible. You assume he’ll draw back, slow down and edge you just like he had when he was eating you out a few minutes ago, but he doesn’t.
“Fuck, I’m going to- I’m cumming!”
You sob as it hits you, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and pulling him close. He makes a sound of surprise as he falls forward into you but easily accepts his fate and begins to kiss and nip at your neck.
Minho’s still fucking you even after you come down, even though your legs are trembling and tears are staining your cheeks. He seems entirely unaffected by the way your pussy’s clenching relentlessly around him. Meanwhile, you’re falling apart every time the head of his cock nudges your g-spot. Curse his dancer’s hips and performer’s stamina.  
“Think you can give me another one?” he asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s infuriating. 
You don’t get the chance to respond before you’re cumming again, whining his name and biting your fist so hard you think you’ve drawn blood. It isn’t unlike Minho to fuck you into a second orgasm right after the first, he loves overstimulating you almost as much as he loves edging you, but it always catches you off guard. 
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts.
“Yeah, I just c-came twice.”
“You’re always tight,” he says matter-of-factly. 
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.”
You snort and roll your eyes while Minho kisses your nose. 
“One more?” he asks, rolling his hips experimentally. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan. “Yes, please. Please make me cum again.”
Minho tries to gently coax the third orgasm out of you, taking his time instead of fucking your brains out like he just had been. You can tell he’s getting close too. He’s trying not to show it but he has a tell that’s a dead giveaway every time. 
“So good for me, letting me do whatever I want to you,” he pants. “So fucking warm and tight and perfect. God, you can never get enough of this cock, can you? Just have to have it all the time.”
“Yes, always!” you agree even though you aren’t entirely sure he’s expecting an answer. 
“That’s my fucking girl.”
You cum unexpectedly, shocking both yourself and your boyfriend. It’s all Minho’s fault, really. He can’t say shit like that and expect you not to gush everywhere. 
He tries to make the most of it by thrusting deep as he fucks you through the orgasm. You clutch him to you, digging your nails into his back as your thighs tighten around his waist. 
The cries of his name and the pulsing of your cunt drive Minho right to the edge and he’s suddenly frantic, whimpering and grunting in your ear as he desperately begs you to say the things he needs to hear.
“Tell me you love me,” he whines. “Please, baby tell me you’re mine.”
“I love you! I love you, baby. I’m yours, I’m yours. ”
It hits him hard- body going tense, eyebrows knitting together, mouth falling open as he cums inside of you. He looks so pretty like that, it’s a view you’ll never get tired of. It’s almost enough to make you cum again. You can feel it, feel his cock throbbing as he fills you up. You hadn’t used condoms with Minho for a long time now, didn’t need to when you were taking twice the typical dose of birth control for your awful periods. And you had been dating for long enough that you could trust each other with something as intimate as this.
Minho gives you and himself a moment to recover before he’s pulling out and rolling off of you. He feels around for one of the washcloths you always kept on the nightstand and finds one, cleaning himself and your thighs off.
“I’ll wet go wet another one with warm water for the actual mess,” he assures you. “Don’t want to use a dry washcloth on that. Your PH balance is already fucked up enough after what we just did.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Can you not say stuff like that until at least twenty minutes after we fuck?”
“You don’t think it’s sexy that your boyfriend cares and is knowledgeable about vaginal health?”
“I do, but I don’t think I would classify the subject as bedroom talk.”
“Agree to disagree.”
It isn’t until you’ve both showered and are laying in bed together that you bring the bet back up. Minho still has about an hour before he needs to be at the JYPE building and he’s trying to spend as much of that time with you as humanly possible. 
“Min, the bet,” you sigh. 
“What about it?”
“You lost. You guys shook on it like... a few hours ago.”
Minho shrugs. “Oh well.”
You sit up, detaching yourself from him to give him a look. 
“What?” he asks. 
“You’re the most competitive person I know..”
He grins. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but you’re welcome, I guess. I just mean you’re not even a little upset about being the first out?”
Another shrug. “Meh. You win some, you lose some.”
“Have you told them yet? What did they say?”
“I’m just gonna let them figure it out on their own,” he says. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend as it dawns on you. “You were never going to play, were you?” 
Minho smirks. “Oh, I’m playing. I’m just playing a different game.”
-
“I’m not lying to our friends!”
“It’s not lying! It’s just not telling them.”
“It’s called a lie of omission for a reason, Minho. Because it’s a lie. And what if they straight up ask me about it? What am I supposed to say then?”
“Just change the subject.” “Yeah, because that’ll work fine and not be suspicious at all.”
“Babe, please,” he pleads. 
“It seems mean!”
“It is mean,” he agrees. “But it’s funny.”
“What if they all hate you after this?”
“They contractually can’t hate me. They still have to be in a group with me for the next two years and if we renew then even longer. Besides, this is me getting back at them for volunteering me to MC for Music Core. I was sick the day the representative came around to the company and they all recommended me knowing I wouldn’t want to do it because they thought it would be funny. Next thing I know, I’m in the audition room and they’re telling me I have to wear stupid hats and do aegyo every Saturday-”
“I thought you liked the hats.”
“They’re okay sometimes,” he huffs, refusing to admit what you both know to be true. “But it’s the principle of the thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mr. Drama King. What do I get in return for participating in your little revenge plot?” 
“What do you want?”
“The rest of the SKZOOs.”
Minho purses his lips, holding back a scoff. The only SKZOO you owned was Leebit, obviously. You actually had a couple of Leebits around your apartment but Minho had jokingly banned you from getting any of the others because, in his words, he was supposed to be your favorite member. 
“Having the others doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite,” you’d argued. “Do you want Leebit to be lonely?”
“Leebit doesn’t need friends,” Minho had insisted. “He’s happier by himself.”
You weren’t convinced but you also didn’t feel like arguing with your very stubborn boyfriend on the subject. You were content with Leebit for the time being- until now, that was. 
“That’s really what you want?” Minho asks. 
“Mhm.”
He sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Fine. Deal.”
You grin triumphantly and kiss him on the cheek. “Pleasure doing business.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And that’s why you love me. We’re made for each other.”
-
Your plan was to simply avoid the members and their partners for the entire month. If you didn’t run into them, you wouldn’t have to lie to them. Easy peasy. Right?
“Jisung did what?” you gasp, standing dumbfounded in the middle of your bedroom as your boyfriend gets dressed. 
“Planned a surprise birthday party for me,” Minho repeats.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s my best friend?”
“But... your birthday was last month. And how is it a surprise party if you already know about it?”
“You know he’s not good at keeping secrets. Or planning ahead.”
You sigh and put your hands on your hips as you watch Minho button his nice dress shirt. 
“Do I have to go?”
He pauses to look up at you. “What do you mean do you have to go? You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that,” you explain, “I’m just worried about someone bringing up your stupid bet and having to lie to them.”
“I’ll do most of the talking,” he assures you. “Just stick by my side.”
Thankfully, the party Jisung had planned was on the smaller side. Only Minho’s closest friends were in attendance which meant that you knew almost everyone there. Han had admittedly outdone himself with the setup, too. You couldn’t even recognize the JYPE ballroom with all of the decorations and lights strung up everywhere. You told him as much when you saw him. 
“If only the guy was actually surprised,” he grumbled to himself, “but thank you. I’m glad you like it.” 
The ‘sticking by Minho’s side’ method only worked when he was actually by your side. Midway through the party, he excuses himself to go talk to one of his friends, leaving you to fend for yourself until he returns. 
“Oh my god, I feel like it’s been forever!” a familiar voice echoes from behind you. 
You turn to see Hyunjin’s girlfriend holding her arms out to you for a hug, and quickly reciprocate, briefly wrapping your arms around her in greeting. 
“It’s been too long,” you agree. 
“Where have you been?” she asks. “The other girls have been asking for you.”
“Oh, you know,” you mumble, “work has really picked up lately so I’ve just been swamped.”
It’s not technically a lie, you have been swamped, but you’ve also been actively avoiding your friends at the same time. 
“Ugh, that sucks. It must be so stressful,” she sympathizes, then lowers her voice. “How have you been doing with... you know?”
Fuck. 
You take a deep breath and swallow the guilt that threatens to claw its way up your throat as you scramble to come up with a bullshit answer. “About as well as any of us, I figure.”
“Fucking tell me about it,” she groans. “I nearly killed Hyunjin when he told me about it. I still might.”
You laugh. “If he goes missing, I won’t say anything.”
Suddenly, Minho’s back by your side, his hand resting on the small of your back. He greets Hyunjin’s girlfriend warmly. She wishes Minho a happy birthday and then excuses herself to go find her own boyfriend. 
“What were you two talking about?”
“Who’s asking?” you ask in response. 
“The birthday boy.”
“He has no authority here, sorry.”
Minho’s jaw drops in faux shock. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“She just asked me how I was holding up through all of this No Nut November bullshit,” you admit.
“Wait, she actually asked you about it?”
“Yes, she actually asked me about it. Girls talk about this stuff.”
He winces and rocks back on his heels. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t fucking leave me again. What was so important you had to ditch me for in the first place?”
“I went to go say hey to that girl Jeongin likes,” Minho explains, nodding in her direction. 
You look over to where she was now sitting with Jeongin and nod in understanding. “That’s her?”
She was one of the guests you didn’t know super well. You had only seen her at a few group functions and she mostly kept to Jeongin and some of the other younger members. 
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I just thought she might be interested to know that her crush on Innie is mutual.”
“What?”
“She likes Jeongin back.”
“No, I know she does.” One of the other girls had told you about Jeongin’s little crush and how the two were practically shooting heart eyes at the other all the time but were completely oblivious. You just hadn’t been able to put a face to the name until now. “How do you know that?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Minho mutters defensively. 
“But why would you try to meddle in their business? Shouldn’t you let them figure it out for themselves?”
“If I didn’t interfere they’d never act on their feelings,” he argues. 
“And why did you decide to ‘interfere’ now of all times?” you push. 
Minho smirks, knowing you’re on to him. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. “Why are you trying to make him lose? You’re already out so why does it matter?”
“I’m just trying to keep it interesting!”
“You’re being an asshole, is what you’re doing!” 
“You’re hot when you’re mad.”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“What do you say we get out of here?” he suggests, completely ignoring what you’d just said. 
“You can’t leave your own birthday party early!”
“Says who?”
“It would be rude, Minho.”
“Fine, then let’s find a closet or something.”
“You really want to fuck like twenty feet away from everyone you’re up against for No Nut November?”
He shrugs. “Who doesn’t like a little challenge?”
-
Jeongin loses next, then Hyunjin. Changbin follows not long after, then Chan, then Felix. All the while, you continue to have sex with Minho. He comes over a lot more often, fucking you in every room of your apartment and then falling asleep in your bed just to go again in the morning. 
You can’t risk being at the dorms because neither of you are very good at keeping your hands off of each other, but you don’t want to raise suspicion by not being around so you drop by a couple of times throughout the month under the guise of bringing Minho dinner or picking him up for date night.
When the boys ask about you, Minho gives them the same excuse you’d told Hyunjin’s girlfriend about work. They don’t pry, thankfully, probably too intimidated by your boyfriend to invoke your name more than once every three to five business days. Minho could be a little possessive at times, even around the friends he’d known longer than he had known you, and that was working in your favor this month. 
The other six having lost meant that Seungmin was the only one left standing. Technically, he had already won. But he doesn’t know that. Only you and Minho know that. 
You expect Minho to tell him the good news as soon as Felix announces his failure, but he doesn’t.
“November isn’t over yet,” he points out.
“You’re just going to let Minnie suffer?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“He’s going to kill you.”
“Probably.”
-
Minho feels a little bad about having you lie on his behalf, but not bad enough to stop you from doing it. You’re just as much of a little jerk as he is, which is why he knew you’d agree in the first place. Sure, your moral compass is a bit more aligned than his, but that’s what makes you such a great pair. You’re there to reign him in when he goes too far, and he’s there to push your boundaries. 
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” he asks when you come back from a girls brunch all giddy and breathless. 
You hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place to save yourself from lying to them all morning but Seungmin’s girlfriend had begged you to, seeing as you were the only two whose boyfriend’s hadn’t caved and therefore weren’t getting laid like the other girls were.
You didn’t want to leave her hanging like that, so you went. And now, you’re practically glowing with adrenaline as you recount the last two hours to Minho.
“I said that you won’t even touch me,” you exclaim, making Minho’s smile falter. “And that you’ve resorted to sleeping on the couch when you stay over so you don’t accidentally get too close to me in your sleep.”
He scoffs. “Did you have to make me sound like a total fucking loser?”
“Would you rather I have told the truth?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Thank you for doing that.”
You take a seat on Minho’s lap and hum happily. “You’re welcome.”
-
When the clock strikes midnight on December first, Minho’s surprised by the radio silence from Seungmin’s end. 
“Do you think he’s asleep?” he asks you. 
“Maybe he’s fucking his girlfriend into oblivion,” you suggest with a shrug. “I hope he is for her sake. Poor girl was desperate for dick.” 
Minho isn’t really sure how to respond to that so he doesn’t. He just hums in acknowledgment and turns the lamp by your bedside off so that your room is doused in darkness. You pat his thigh comfortingly under the blankets. 
“We’ll find out tomorrow, babe.”
“I guess we will.”
Seungmin doesn’t text the groupchat until the afternoon, hours after Chan’s texted asking who won. Minho shows you the texts and you read over his shoulder as the messages roll in. 
Kim Seungmin SKZ: lost an hour or two before midnight. congrats minho. 
Lee Felix SKZ: minho won??? Why am i not surprised at all lol
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: I think we all saw this coming.
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: pun intended.
Bang Chan SKZ: so where are you going to take your gf?
Minho: actually, you all should congratulate Seungmin.
Bang Chan SKZ: what?
Hannie: what? did you lose yesterday afternoon or something?
Seo Changbin SKZ: ???
Minho: I was the first to lose. 
The groupchat is silent for a single beat before it starts blowing up with messages from all of the members furiously cursing Minho out. He laughs as he scrolls through them. 
Bang Chan SKZ: all in favor of voting lee know out of the group?
Kim Seungmin SKZ: i think it’s unanimous.
Minho: Relax, Minnie. You won. You’re getting the trip. 
Kim Seungmin SKZ: RELAX? YOU’RE GOING TO TELL ME TO FUCKING RELAX??? I COULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING MY GIRLFRIEND THREE DAYS AGO AFTER FELIX LOST BUT NOOO YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUNNY MAKING THE REST OF US LOOK LIKE IDIOTS
Yang Jeongin SKZ: i mean it is kind of funny
Hannie: you’re not mad innie?
Yang Jeongin SKZ: i was out second... or i guess technically third so i was never going to win anyway. minho got me a girlfriend out of this so i can’t really complain too much
Minho: Listen, I’m happy to be the sole contributor to Minnie’s vacation since I was the one to orchestrate all this. The rest of you can donate to that nonprofit we talked about at the beginning of the month. I’ll make a donation too obviously but don’t worry about the trip.
Kim Seungmin SKZ: I don’t want your pity money
Minho: it’s not pity money, it’s sorry for being an asshole money
Seo Changbin SKZ: if he doesn’t want it, i’ll take it
Kim Seungmin: don’t you fucking dare
Minho: anyway, if you guys are done bitching I’m going to go spend some time with my girlfriend now. I hope you’ve all learned your lesson.
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: our lesson???
Lee Felix SKZ: wym?
Bang Chan SKZ: oh don’t tell us you’re still mad about that
Minho: not anymore. we’re even now.
Minho puts his phone down on the counter as soon as it starts to ring with a call from Seungmin. He swipes the decline icon and turns his attention to you. 
“Was it worth it?” you ask. 
He opens his mouth to answer but his phone rings again, cutting him off. It’s a call from Chan this time. He declines it and turns the phone off completely so that no one else can bother the two of you. 
He leans forward and kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as his hands settle on your ass. 
“Was it worth it?” he repeats, smirking. “I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”
sorry again for the wait- as you all know i've been going through a lot lol
nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady---boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter @skizzel @sillyrabbit76 @sahazzy @kpfly @zerefdragn331 @wonuziex @sirleeknow @ashcapybara
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ichigo-dream · 10 months
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Leon Kennedy - Eating Headcannons (SFW + NSFW)
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Dream and I were having a drinks sesh cause the weather is good with us atm, and we ended up having a full discussion about Leon and eating. We were discussing the criteria to qualify as what we have coined a “neo fem-boy”, and how Leon has a lilll bit of squish to him despite the muscle - cause baby boy likes to EAT (both figuratively and metaphorically). Leon canonically put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4, yet he still somehow looks a lil bit soft and squishy soooooo we had to write this shit down.
Basically we just wanna eat up soft Leon, enjoy~
SFW
It's established canon that this man wants dinner all the time (see Leon in Infinite Darkness and Damnation)
This boy is hobbit-coded - baby boy needs at least three square meals a day - we’re talking full fry up in the morning, actual lunch and a spread for dinner. Might even squeeze in brunch and supper while he’s at it.
Snack, snacks, snacks - always snacking on something.
Having low blood sugar and being in a relationship with Leon is a match made in Heaven.
Lil baby has a sweet tooth
His jacket and coat pockets will always have some form of sweet in them - gum, lollipops, hard boiled sweets, Tiic Tacs, jawbreakers,
Any time you’re in the car together or watching a film, you can hear the hard sugar shell clacking against his teeth.
Will hide food, and eat in bed - you get into bed after a long day and when your head hits the pillow, you’ll hear a plastic rustle. Reaching under you’ll find a half-eaten packet of cookies or biscuits he’d been snacking on earlier that he had shoved under your pillow.
Will finish your food for you
Birthdays are his fav - any excuse to have cake this boy will use it - will eat any kind, but boy is a slut for vanilla cake and strawberry jam filling - you will often have to wipe the cream and jam from the corners of his mouth.
Will fuck up a strawberry sundae especially in the summer time.
Speaking of summer, it’s one of his favourite seasons
Loves to eat outside in the sunshine when it’s hot and balmy
Perfect weather for ice cream or milkshakes – and he won’t waste a single drop. If he notices some trickling down the cool glass in his hands, he’ll lick it up, completely oblivious to how the small action makes you blush.
You’ll often catch him eating his cereal standing up, watching TV or nosying at the neighbours having an argument in the streets below, still in his pyjama bottoms.
Loves milkshake straws - has a collection of different flavours - though, when he doesn’t use a straw, he is always oblivious to the cute lil milkstache.
Will squirt cream straight into his mouth in front of the fridge.
Weddings, and other events are the worst for him, as whilst he loves desserts, they rarely serve his favourites.
“I fucking hate pavlova” he grumbles, proceeding to eat it anyway, just to get his sugar fix.
Loves fruit - will eat raspberries one by one off the tips of his fingers.
You’ll catch him eating ice cream sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge in the middle of the night, sucking on his spoon and looking at you like a deer in headlights when he sees you standing there watching him.
Will get cranky if he doesn’t get to eat - hangry vibes
If he wakes up late, he will refuse to leave without breakfast - this boy will run out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth like an anime school girl.
His RPD uniform has lots of “fancy pockets” and what are they good for? Emergency snack storage - nuts, sweets, biscuits, dried fruit. 
For his birthday, you buy him candy bracelets - heart eyes for days - and he sits and absent-mindedly sucks on them at his desk at work, thinking of you.
NSFW
As a birthday present, you wear a candy necklace during sex and Leon attacks your neck, sucking and biting at it whilst he fucks you.
Due to his habits, he always tastes sweet - all of him tastes sweet if you catch our drift (ya, his cum)
Whilst he’s squirting cream into his mouth, if you happen to be walking past and notice some of it lingering on the corners of his mouth and decide to lick it off, baby boy will forget everything he’s doing and fuck you over the kitchen table.
Speaking of cream - will use it on you when he fucks you, kitten-licking the sweet dollops off your warm skin (tits, collarbones, stomach - he's gonna eat you up)
If you’re curious about something he’s eating and want to taste some, he’ll kiss you in lieu of sharing (Leon is only possessive over two things - you and food).
Big into gum sharing - will use it as an excuse to start making out with you.
If things get a little messy when you’re eating cake, he will lick your hands clean if he’s in the mood.
Leon is a munch in more ways than one.
This boy will eat you out of house and home, including your pussy.
Could eat three square meals a day and will still go down on you like he’s starving.
Kitchen? Bedroom? Sofa? Standing up? Doesn’t matter - man’s is ready to munch anytime anywhere.
Whilst he’s eating you out, he’ll rut his hips against the bed - the sugar rush means he is always full of energy and ready to go at all times.
Will suck on your clit like it's a gobstopper.
Gets bratty when he hasn’t had a snack - but, it just so happens that he considers you to be the sweetest one.
Be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life when he gets like this - or for him to eat you out until you can’t walk (will bring you a snack afterwards ofc).
This man gained 40lbs of muscle— but like we said, baby boy is still soft  
Leon puts you in a headlock whilst he fucks you and his biceps have a nice lil bit of squish which you relish in when he chokes you.
His ass jiggles - when he’s lying stomach down on bed, you love slapping it when you walk past and watching it jiggle like jelly - this action without fail will make him blush and whine “Stop!” every time.
You like to bite him
He’s too cute and squishy to resist honestly
Playfully nibbling his plump lil cheek
Biting his thick arms
When you’re riding him and can’t resist playfully kneading his tits like a kitten, and it makes him grab your wrists and fuck into you harder - he’ll later claim that him turning red from his cheeks to his chest was from exertion and not embarrassment.
He is the comfiest place to lie on when you’re fucked out and riding the waves of post-orgasmic bliss.
If you made it this far, comment “Bingo!”
Thank you for reading!
Love,
Ichigo and Dream xoxo
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hoomandoescosplay · 2 months
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On The Air | Alastor x Reader Oneshot
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In the early morning I feel Alastor get up from our bed causing me to slightly groan and pull the covers up a bit more.
I hear a muffled laugh come from him as he walks into our bathroom to get ready for work. I shift my position a bit, getting more comfortable to drift off again.
Eventually he comes back in, one more time, and leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I love you my darling. I’ll be back home before you know it.” I mumble an incoherent response back, still being half asleep, before he leaves heading out to the radio station.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
I wake up noticing the empty, and slightly cold spot, next to me. Sighing I sit up to stretch before getting out of bed and walking into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.
As I enter the kitchen, I see a tray of toast with butter and jam, an omelette, and a plate of sausages and potatoes. Alastor even prepared my coffee just the way I liked it.
After taking note of the thoughtful breakfast I noticed a note as well. I picked it up to read it as a smile engulfed my face.
Don't worry about breakfast, I prepared it for you, my darling.
I shall be home later today as the radio station has requested for me to stay longer tonight.
I’m sorry I won’t be home as soon as I originally thought today.
I’ll make it up to you darling. Kisses.
- Al ♡
Ever since we started dating, before that even, Alastor always tried his best to make me happy and put a smile on my face.
While I’m a bit sad he has to work a few extra hours today it also gives me more time to get some last minute gifts I wanted to give him today.
I stretch once more before grabbing the plate of sausages and potatoes along with the omelette to heat up over the stove.
I flick on the radio and start humming along with the song that is playing. As I continue to heat up the food, I hear something over the radio. It's Alastor's voice, he's on air at the moment making me smile.
“And that was some wonderful music for you. Now back to your wonderful host, here's me, Alastor!” A clapping track plays after he finishes his sentences causing me to roll my eyes playfully.
“How is everyone doing today? I'd hope well considering it’s Valentine’s Day.” He takes a second to pause. “I'd like to talk with you about something important as always - it's not the time to panic, but I think we should all remain vigilant because of the terrible events happening in nearby cities.”
I turn off the stove and slightly tune out his voice talking about the recent murder spree happening around our city.
Placing my food onto the dining room table I walk back into the kitchen to bring the radio with me into the dining room as I catch the last bit of his spiel on the recent murders.
“As always, I urge you all to stay cautious. And if you want to, you can always call in here and we'll chat. The police have assured us that they are working hard and that we should have no grounds for concern... But still, stay vigilant, my friends, stay vigilant.”
Taking a breath he starts up again. “Onto some lighter news, let's talk about Valentine’s Day. anyone want to call in and tell us what date you have planned for your special someone?” he asks in his radio voice as I start to eat my breakfast.
Not long after he asks for people to call in, someone's voice is already being heard through the radio.
The woman on the line is excited and speaks quickly: “Oh, I’ve got the best plans! My boyfriend and I are going out for dinner at a fancy new place we’ve been dying to try and to top it all off he said he would take me to one of his favorite spots. It's going to be so romantic.” She swoons and I can only assume blushes as well.
“Ah, how romantic. I do hope you have a wonderful time.” Alstor says as she thanks him before hanging up. A he takes a few more callers before he starts introducing the next song he has lined up to play.
I finish my breakfast and start to pick up the tray to bring into the kitchen for me to start cleaning.
I take the radio with me once more back into the kitchen. “Coming up next, the most romantic song I’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. All the ladies, all the men, get ready cause this song is going to just melt your heart. This one’s for you, everyone, and you especially, my love. This song is just for you. I hope you enjoy it.” I blush and roll my eyes playfully as I start to wash the dishes.
“Such a lover boy.” I mumble with a smile starting to spread on my face. The song ends much too soon and Alastor starts to talk on the air a while longer once more.
I shut the radio off after drying my hands and head into our bedroom to get dressed for the day. Getting dressed quickly, I check the time. It's still early morning which gives me more than enough time to do some shopping before he gets home.
I finish getting ready quickly and start to walk to the shops nearby to get a few things. I’ve been eyeing some new bowties I’ve seen and decided it would be a good idea to get him a new one along with some other small gifts.
The short walk ended as I walked into a store. As I browse I immediately see the bowtie I’ve been eyeing for weeks. It's a beautiful piece and I think that he would love it.
I also see some other romantic items, like a box of chocolates, a teddy bear, and a beautiful bunch of flowers. I decide to get all of the items and head to the register to check out.
I am happy with the selection I’ve made, and I feel like Alastor is going to be very happy with his gifts as well. The cashier rings up my items quickly. I pay the cashier and leave the shop with my bag of gifts. Satisfied with the amount of gifts I found I decide head back home.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
Opening the front door I walk inside making sure the door closes behind me before I place down the bag in the living room.
Glancing at the clock I notice I have a bit more time before Alastor said he’d be home. I decided to relax with the extra time I have by reading a book.
I unpack the gifts and set them on our bed for Alastor to walk into as a surprise when he gets home. I grab the book off of my nightstand and head back into the living room, sitting down and starting to read.
A few hours pass and I get through most of my booth until the phone starts to ring. Closing my book, I place it on the table next to me and walk over to the phone.
I picked it up and said a small “Hello?” waiting to see who is on the other end of the line.
“Hello my darling, I just wanted to give you a quick call to let you know that my day is taking longer than expected.” He pauses to sigh as I lean against the wall. “I’m sorry, I had so many plans for us today and it’s just not seeming to work out.”
I put a smile on my face hoping I can convince him I’m not disappointed we probably won’t be doing anything tonight.
“It’s alright Al, I promise. Don’t stress yourself out over this. Well just do something tomorrow.” I can hear him sigh again, clearly disappointed he has to stay late.
“Are you sure?” he asks, “You’re not disappointed?” I feel my heart melt a little at how much he cares. “Not at all,” I reply, trying to convince him.
Alastor pauses and sighs again. “I really wanted to do something special for you today. I wanted today to be special and romantic…”
“I know, I know. But it’s okay. We’ll do something extra special tomorrow alright?” I say trying to make him relax a bit.
He sighs again, but this time he sounds slightly more relieved when I assure him that I’m not disappointed. “Alright,” he says, “You’re right. Tomorrow, definitely. I love you.”
I smile. “I love you too Al. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up after and head back to where I was sitting in the living room.
Sitting back down I decide to go back to reading my book. A few hours pass, and as the afternoon begins to roll around.
Looking out the window an idea pops into my head causing me to grin. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” I say to myself as I get up and head into the kitchen.
I grab a small basket and start putting together a small dinner. After finishing making the simple meal I pack up the basket with the food, a bottle of wine, and some plates and utensils.
The dinner looks lovely, quite a romantic gesture that he is sure to appreciate. Deciding to bring a small romantic dinner to Alastor at the radio station was a brilliant idea on my part I think as I take one last look around to make sure I’m not forgetting anything before I head out.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
Upon arriving at the station a few of Alastor’s coworkers greeted me and some even engaged in some small talk.
After getting past the lobby and some of the offices I start making my way to where Alastor’s studio and office is. I take a peek through the window connected to his office and see he’s not live right now. Taking the opportunity I opened the door.
He jumps in his chair, quickly turning to me with a surprised look on his face. Seeing me standing there with a basket filled with a romantic dinner causes that surprise to quickly turn into a big smile.
He stands up to come over to greet me, kissing me on the cheek as he wraps his arm around my waist.
“You didn’t have to come all the way here to bring me dinner darling.” He rubs small circles on my waist with the hand wrapped around me as I smile up at him.
“I know but I felt bad that you had to cancel our plans due to working late so I wanted to bring the dinner plans to you.” I grin at him as I lean into his touch a bit more.
He stares at me with utter adoration as he speaks up. “Happy Valentine’s Day my darling. I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise today.” He says pulling me in closer to him as he kisses my lips quickly.
I smile during the kiss and it grows wider as we part. “Oh trust me this isn’t the only surprise.” He raises an eyebrow at me causing me to laugh. “I got you a few more gifts. You’ll have to wait to see what they are until we get home though.”
Alastor’s face lights up when you give him that hint. “This day just keeps getting better and better.” He says excitedly. He gives me another kiss on the lips, but this time it lasts longer.
“I guess being on the air today was worth it then.” Alastor replies as I start to laugh again.
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helplesslypurple77 · 5 months
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Day 9- Dazai/Reader with promt Wet Dream
Notes:  this is partly inspired by this wonderful ChuuAtsu fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091097 
You know, when I write my reader characters, they usually end up not like me at all, but for some reason this Reader ended up like a little too much like me. also no actual sex guys, just dream sex, sorry
There are hands on you. Big hands, tugging at your clothes, desperately, hotly. You want to laugh at him, at his urgent attitude, but you feel the same. Your hands are just as desperate, tangled in that familiar brown hair, that insufferable smirk curved across his face. You hate him, but you never want him to let you go.
“I knew it, you secretly liked me all along.” You despise that voice, it's cocky and arrogant. And you hate how it turns you on. You kiss him harder, trying to shut him up.
It works too, at first. He abandoned his previous task of making fun of you and instead devotes himself to absolutely ruining you, running his fingers through your hair and yanking your close, tugging at the buttons of your shirt. Each button undone represents your pride, falling apart, ruined by the man before you. He pulls away from your mouth, pressing bruising kisses to your neck, his tongue laving over the harsher bites. 
“Hurry up Dazai.” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy, thick with lust as your head falls back, letting out a tiny embarrassing whimper. The man before you chuckles. “My my, impatient are we?” You hate how his teasing turns you on. 
But he obeys, and a clever hand tweaks your nipple, pulling a moan deep out of your throat. You hate him, hate what he does to you.
Another hand is trailing lower now, drawing a sinful path down your front, leaving a hot trail of fire in its wake. It arrives at its goal, and he chuckles at what he finds there.
“You're so wet.” He sounds proud, the insufferable bastard. “And I thought you hated me.”
You glare through the pleasure. “Shut up—”
You interrupt your complaints with a moan as he plays with your pussy, slipping a finger into your twitching hole. You moan, embarrassed of the squelching sounds that give away your real feelings. His fingers are long, longer than yours and they stretch you out nicely as he adds another one, scissoring them and prying your hole open. A rough padded thumb draws circles on your clit, driving you closer and closer to insanity, to the edge of the metaphorical cliff. 
“More, Osamu. Give me more.” You can feel his dick twitch in his pants at that name, and you take pride in the fact that he’s just as affected as you are. 
“Yes, my Belladonna, I shall obey your every command.” You hate that stupid nickname, the one he gives to all the women he flirts with, but never gave to you. You hate how your heart clenches with happiness. He slips a third finger in and your back arches, moans tumbling out of your mouth at a higher frequency. 
You grip his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his waist as his long fingers bring you closer and closer to the brink, your stubborn pride falling from you with every thrust of his fingers. And then, he finds it, that cushy spot that makes your back arch and you cum with a cry of his name.
“I love you, Osamu.”
˚⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 
You wake with a strange feeling of dissatisfaction, as if you're missing something. A strange wanting feeling, a familiar aching in your gut that disappears with a good shower. You take your time getting ready, because even though you’re late you know someone will be later than you. And you refuse to leave into the world looking like a caveman. You style your hair, put on some everyday makeup and make some eggs and toast, trying the new strawberry jam Kenji gave you. 
It's not until you're locking the door to the dorms behind you, purse in hand, that the dream suddenly rushes back into your brain. The hot steamy details and the worst part, the very last words. 
‘I love you, Osamu’
Fuck, your screwed.
˚⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 
The Detective Agency is hard at work when you step quietly through the door. You're offered the usual greetings, which you return with less than your usual enthusiasm, but if anyone notices, they don't say. You put your purse down, sitting at your desk between Atsushi and that damn Dazai, and pointedly ignore the latter man. You shoot Atsushi a smile however, you adore the boy. 
“Morning Atsushi.” Atsushi shoots you a smile. “Morning Name, do you have the paperwork for yesterdays mission? Kunikida told me to make copies in case Dazai loses them again.”
“Yeah, thats a good idea.” You nod, handing over said papers with a smile. “He totally would to.” You and Atsushi share a smile as an indignant squawk sounds on your other side. “What are you implying! I'm being egregiously slandered. I would never lose anything important anyway.” You avoid looking at him entirely, not even granting him a response. Atsushi shoots you an odd look, but humors you with a sigh in Dazai’s direction. “Yes Dazai, we all know you would. Thanks for these Name.” He takes the papers away with a smile and you turn to your desk as the door slams behind him. 
It's silent in the office, the sounds of typing and the beeping of Ranpo’s switch, and you're filling out reports for lost dogs when a familiar bandaged hand comes into your vision. 
“Nameeee~ why are you avoiding meee~” You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and flashes of those hands in a different context flash through your mind. You keep trying, not looking at him. 
“I'm not ignoring you. I'm doing reports.” You type faster, taking out your embarrassment on your computer. 
“No, see? You won't even look at me.” Infuriatingly, the man simply does not leave you alone. You sigh, maybe if you focus on how infuriating your find him you can survive without thinking of that dream again, and those stupid fucking words.
Your turn, glancing at him. “No, see, I'm looking at you.” And of course, this proved to be a huge mistake. Dazai’s handsomeness, it's always been obvious. But most of the people in the armed detective agency are handsome, for some reason. So to you it's always been easy to ignore. But now, you can't ignore it any more. The sun is pouring through the windows, casting a golden glow on his brown hair, highlighting the thousands of colored strands all blending together into brown. It highlights his eyes too, turning that brown transparent and beautiful, shining in the light. He’s wearing that stupid outfit as usual, but he’s hung his coat over the edge of the chair, and rolled his sleeves up and his delicate hands are on display. Damn those stupid sexy hands with their long fingers and blue veins. Damn Dazai and his stupid sexyness. You hate him for it. 
Worse however, are his lips. Because as soon as you look at them all you can think about is that dream, how he devoured your kisses, how he worshiped your neck. And now he’s biting them, drawing his teeth across them and leaving little indents across his top lip. You want to kiss them away.
Unknown to you, Dazai’s having his own little problems. You look at him, and you blink slowly, giving him the most dangerous pair of fuck me eyes he’s ever seen. You always look pretty, but now it's three times worse. The sun is highlighting you, and you glow like a goddess, coming down to slay the foolish mortals who worship her. He can imagine you as a goddess. Dressed in robes that hug your curves with every step, punishing the foolish mortals who desire her impurely. Demanding they worship you. He would gladly fall beneath your feet and worship you. Let you sit on his face and smother him with your thighs and pussy. He would beg for it. 
And your eyes are begging him to lean forward and kiss you, to selfishly steal the breath from your lungs, to take you on this very desk right here. He could imagine that too. Your pretty form bent over a desk, papers and office supplies falling to the floor as he fucks you. Your face twisted in pleasure as you screamed his name. His name, and only his. He swallows, wetting his throat and biting his lip. He cant breath, and he feels arousal start in his gut.
“Can you guys stop eye fucking each other and get back to work? Kunikida looks like he’s ready to burst a blood vessel.” Ranpo startles you out of your staring, and you turn with a glare at the older detective. “Im not eye fucking him. What are you even talking about?” Dazai jumps in rather halfheartedly. “I mean i could understand if you were eye fucking me, i am very handsome arent i.” You want to smack him. Instead you turn to your desk and resume your reports. Your mother always said violence was never the answer. 
But you’ve learned your lesson. From now on, you will do your best to avoid Dazai Osamu, lest you make a mistake you will regret.
˚⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 
Over the next few days you learned something important. Avoiding Dazai Osamu proved to be an impossible task. Because for some reason, Kunikida insisted on putting the two of you together for missions. For reasons unknown he had somehow decided that the two of you worked fabulously well together and to pair you on every mission so forth. 
And honestly a You from a different day might actually agree. It actually made sense. You were a combat focused Gifted, and Dazai was not. You were hardworking and followed directions and Dazai did neither. You wouldn't wander off the flirt with every woman who looked his way and Dazai would. Although, for some reason his serial flirting had stopped recently, and you hoped it was done for good. 
But, the You of today, who wanted to avoid this man were being thwarted at every turn, by Kunikida of all people. You had bribed Ranpo silent, because you were certain he knew about The Dream™, with a limited edition cake you bribed off Kyouka. And you were sure that after you avoided Dazai for a while you would eventually forget about The Dream™ and this stupid crush you had developed. But you weren't even given that privilege, because after One Day™, of avoiding him you were promptly put together on every mission, be it a missing dog or an actual fight. It was like you were joined at the hip. 
And here you were today, joining Ranpo on a murder case because you were assigned to go with Ranpo and then Dazai had made a fuss and said he wanted to go because, and you're directly quoting here, ‘hot policewomen’. That boiled your blood for numerous reasons. So here you are, standing behind Ranpo as he argued with the police, glaring at the man beside you.
“Why are you mad anyway?” Dazai whisper hisses at you. You're standing in the lobby of the police office. Minuro happened to be out today, and the replacement police chief, Chief Sugawara, seemed oddly hesitant to let Ranpo solve the case. You side glare at him, whispering right back. “Why did you have to come? And all for some hot police women.” There aren't even any women present, for some reason. You guess they have better things to do than argue with a bunch of detectives. And you're all for women. You know how the saying goes, ‘women support women until women stop supporting women’ but you hate to admit your glad. You would really dislike watching Dazai flirt with another pretty woman. It would hurt you more than you wanted to admit.
It kept you up at night. Embarrassing thoughts like: ‘why doesn't he flirt with me, he flirts with them.’ soon arrived at: ‘i guess i'm not pretty enough to be flirted with.’ that just added to your growing insecurity with your looks. You hated that he had that power over you. You hated that you allowed him to have that power over you. 
(You see, reader, you were so deep down in your own delusions, that you missed the signs. The looks men, and women gave you. Looks of awe, even just stares of admiration. The flirting that you dismissed as pleasantries, even Dazai’s lingering stares and rather obvious feelings. But I put it in for story reasons so just bear it for now.)
And so, here you were, forced to stand against the wall of the police department, bored out of your mind and still a little too reminded of The Dream™, because for some reason, you had been plagued by wet dreams for a few days now. And it was odd, while the first one seemed(as embarrassing as it was) thoroughly of your own creation, the others started not resembling anything you would like. Also, last night Dazai had been replaced by some guy you didn't even know? And the night before that it was the President. Now, the President was a handsome man, sure, but you had never even thought of him that way in passing, so something odd was going on for sure. 
And then, the Armed Detective Agency had received today's job. A request that stood out to you as soon as you read it. Apparently, people were dying mysteriously in the middle of the night. And, you're literally never going to believe this, apparently most of them had reported Wet Dreams the nights before to their close friends. So yeah, you had quickly volunteered. Strangely enough, a few people in the detective Agency, namely Atsushi and Naomi, had reported strange dreams.(Atsushi with extremely flushed cheeks and Naomi with, ehem, interesting details about finding it strange that the dream wasn't about her brother. Atsushi hadn’t mentioned anyone, but had said there were a few different people.)
Ranpo had been specifically requested, and the police dept had asked for a combat oriented Gifted, and so here you are. But Dazai had insisted on going along, for reasons unknown. Minoru had been the requester, but when you had arrived a worried police officer had quickly informed you that Minoru was out and Chief Sugawara didn't want ‘some private eye’ taking charge of the case. You wondered, for the thousandths time, why most police officers had a similar outtake on this. You assumed pride. 
You hear Ranpo’s prideful laughter, and he joins you with Chief Sugawara. You assume he’s done proving his worth, anyway. 
“So, how’d it go? We on the job?” You retuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Ranpo nods. “Oh course, Chief Sugawara came to realize that he was better off with a master detective on this job, and happily succeeded the case to me.” 
Chief Sugawara, a grumpy looking man in his mid forties, sighs. “I wouldn't say happily, but this cast has been bothering us, so we’ll welcome your help.” He starts walking down the hallway, and you and Dazai follow him and Ranpo into a small room. It's an odd room, almost empty with a small cot in the corner and a chair beside it. Windows stream sunlight into the room. The door shuts behind Chief Sugawara with a resounding slam. 
“So, I already know who the guy is, but I got some bad news.” Ranpo leans against the wall, unwrapping a lollipop he pulled from god knows where. “His ability allows him to infiltrate dreams and take any form. He then extracts sexual energy and kills them.” 
“Ok…” Dazai draws out the word. “So let's get the dude.”
“We can't.” Chief Sugawara jumps in, letting out a long suffering sigh. “He doesn't actually have a physical form anymore. He’s dead.” 
Confused silence falls. Ranpo sighs. “I'll elaborate for your poor minds. The man actually died a couple years ago. But his ability allows him to live on in the population's consciousness.” Ranpo says. “And he thinks that if he extracts enough life energy he can have a body again. He’s essentially living on through his ability right now.” 
“Ok, so how do we get him?” You have a feeling you know, but you ask anyway in case you're actually wrong. Ranpo smirks, and in that moment you know that your hunch was right. 
“Remember how earlier at the meeting you said that you’ve been having weird dreams as well?” You nod, avoiding Dazai’s eyes. “Well, it's obvious you're his next target. So, the plan is that you go to sleep and as soon as he arrives Dazai will neutralize the ability, therefore ‘killing’ it.” 
Yep, you knew it. You sigh. As much as you really, really, really don't want to do this, it seems like a good plan. Just embarrassing. Chief Sugawara runs a hand through his messy brown hair. “So Miss, are you willing to do this for us? You are definitely not required to.” 
You nod, sitting down on the cot with a weary, weary, sigh. “Yeah, I'll do it.” A rare smile makes its way across Chief Sugawara’s face, and he hands you a small pill. “A sleeping pill.” He says, as Ranpo begins to drag him out of the room. 
“Wait Ranpo, how will Dazai know when to neutralize it.” Ranpo smirks, pushing Chief Sugawara out of the door. “Oh, he’ll know. And Name? Tell him to take another form, maybe the President again, and not your crush ok? No distractions.” And with that he leaves, slamming the door behind you. You are left alone, with Dazai. You swallow the pill with the water they gave you in relative awkward silence. Dazai pulls the chair up beside the cot, a weird smile painted across his face. 
“So, name, I hear you have a crush?” You really can't believe you're here, having a discussion with your crush about your crush. You sigh. “Yeah, I guess. It's embarrassing.” You grimace that makes its way across his face as you lay down, but his face is back to a smile as you feel your vision waver. 
“Dazai?” You say before you slip away. “Yes, Bella?” 
“Don't leave me alone please.” He smiles. “I won't Belladonna.”
‘He called me Belladonna.’ Is the last thought you have before you slip away. 
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
The scene you step into is familiar. The Armed Detective Agency office. Its evening, golden hour light slides through the windows, painting the floor with sunset colores. And, waiting for you with open arms is, of course, the President. You should just wait for Dazai to get rid of him, but you really want to see the limits of his ability. You hatch a mischievous plan. The Not President shoots you a very out of character smirk. “Ready for some of that good good lovin’ babygirl?” You almost choke. 
“I dont want to fuck the President.” You say, sitting down on the edge of someone’s desk. “I don't even have a crush on him, why would you choose him?”
The Not President shrugs. “He’s hot, and subconsciously you would totally fuck him. But whatever.” the figure shifts and morphs, and another familiar figure is standing before you. “Ranpo? Really?” 
“Fine” The scenery changes now, and you're in an unfamiliar office with a familiar 5 ‘3 redhead standing before you.
“Nope. I dont like short men.”
Not Chuuya shrugs. “You sure Darlin? All his height went somewhere else…”
“No.” 
“Fine, your call.” A flash, and you're in another office. You shake your head. 
“Definitely not Mori.”
The scenery shifts again, and you're floating in an odd golden ball with only a bed. A man is standing before you. He looks a little like Mori’s long lost cousin. 
You sigh. “I don't even know this guy.”
“And?” The man’s voice is accented, russian maybe.
“Just change it, it's my dream.”
The scenery shifts again, and now you're in the very room you're sleeping in right now. And advancing towards you, because of course, is Dazai.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
You look pretty while you're sleeping. And you're not moving, and that means you're not avoiding him. Dazai hates that you’re avoiding him, and you're also apparently having sex dreams about the president, while all of his dreams have been plagued by you in various states of undress for a long time. But, Dazai can admit the dream guy is obviously not affecting him, all of his dreams are clearly of his own creation, and not constant. 
You've plagued his dreams for a while now, ever since he realizes he had a small(massive) crush on you. In the beginning those dreams were innocent. You would hold his hand, tell him you loved him and maybe plant a kiss chaste kiss on his lips. But then, the Armed Detective Agency took a small vacation to the beach, for some reason.
He spent that day throwing sand at Kunikida and spending an unhealthy amount of time staring at you in that stupid skimpy bathing suite. It was truly a blessing and a curse because while he gotta see it, so did every other person on the beach that day. That night, the first of the dreams came. You, riding him in the very swimsuit on an empty beach, looking radiant and devastating a top him. He woke up guilty and hard that morning, and decided to take a long, cold, shower instead of dealing with it himself, because again, he was a little guilty. That had been the first of many, many dirty dreams. 
But of course you're apparently spending your sex dreams with the president instead of him, because life is unfair. And Dazai knows deep down that he doesnt deserve you, he knows that very well, but he still hopes. And hope is a cruel, unfair thing. 
You start twisting on the cot, your lips parting in something like a whimper. Dazai stands at attention, waiting for some kind of sign for him to use No Longer Human. But then, the moans start. 
Dazai almost chokes, gripping the side of the chair tightly because of course you would moan, and of corse Ranpo decided to subject him to this devine torture. And of course he decided to throw a fit today to come with you because he loved you and he didn't want you to avoid him anymore. Because now, he knows what your moans sound like. He’s never going to be able to look at you the same again. And now he has more wet dream fodder, like he needed anymore. 
“Oh, oh feels so good~” 
He’s going to die, he’s hard. He’s going to hell. He’s going to burn in hell and all because he’s a horn dog.
“Mmm, so, so good.” 
You're twisting in bed, and Dazai wonders if he should use No Longer Human. He probably should, right? 
“So good Osamu, treat me so good~” Dazai chokes. And grips your hand, activating No Longer Human. His mind is in shambles as the moans stop, because you just said his name.
And then one more fatal sentence escapes your mouth. “No, don't go ‘samu. I love you.” And then, you open your eyes.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 
It's late by the time you and Dazai start walking back home. After you had woken up the station had been abuzz with activity. You had been made to submit a mission report, reporting on what had happened in the dream world. Well most of it anyway. And Dazai is yanked away from you for other reports. It had been odd, honestly. When you had woken up he had been holding your hand, the light of No Longer Human still fading around you, with a shell shocked expression carved across his face.
The man of the hour clears his throat as you arrive as the Agency dorms, stopping you before as you unlock your door. 
“Um, Name.” He looks uncharacteristically unsure, like he’s weighing his words. “I have something to tell you.” 
You nod, fiddling with your keys. “What's up?” He’s wringing his hands, and this is all very strange and out of character. He clears his throat again.
“Well, I was wondering if you might want to go out to dinner with me.” 
You frown. “With the Agency? You should ask Kunikida, he’s in charge of scheduling and stuff like that, not me.”
“No.” Dazai looks almost timid. “As a date. I like–no, I love you.”
You drop your keys in shock. “What? Is this a joke? Because it's not funny.”
“No.” 
You shake your head, pinching yourself subtly. You literally have to be still dreaming now. But no, it hurts a lot. Dazai is still standing before you, trying to hide that unsure look with his usual smirk of confidence. It's failing, miserably.
“So, do you want to? Because i can understand if you don't, i—
You shut him up with a kiss. “Yes, I'd love to.” You say when you finally pull away. Still gripping his cheeks between your hands. Dazai smiles, a real genuine smile and dives back for another kiss.
End Notes: Dazai is a dramatic whore. He talks like me. Definitely a former theater kid right there. Also at some point in this fic i start drastically overusing the trademark™ sign, and i love it and it's so fun. Also the cloud ☁ emoji is so cute.
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
fwb to lovers (steddie)
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says. “I can do casual sex. I’m great at casual sex. Friends with benefits will be a breeze.”
“You’re full of shit,” Robin says flatly. 
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t do friends with benefits, Steve,” Eddie cringes from his hiding spot behind a shelf, like a criminal who’s been doing friends with benefits with Steve. “You fall in love with every age-appropriate friend you have. Add chemistry and compatibility to that mix, and you’re toast. Might as well slather you in butter and jam, that’s how toasted you are.”
“I don’t fall in love with all my friends,” Steve protests weakly.
Robin holds up a finger. “Nancy,” she starts.
“That doesn’t count! We weren’t friends until after we dated.”
She ignores him, putting up another finger. “Jonathan.”
Eddie frowns at that, mentally going back and pulling up every memory he has of Jonathan and Steve interacting. The jokes that Steve threw his head back to laugh at, the flush on his cheeks. It makes sense, and Eddie doesn’t like it. 
Then he realizes how ridiculous that is. He’s the one sleeping with Steve, a feat he’s fairly sure Jonathan hasn’t accomplished. Jonathan doesn’t know the sounds Steve makes when he comes, or how amazing Steve looks on his knees. Eddie smugly puts his jealousy to the side in favor of listening in. 
Steve has turned a bright red. “You can’t—”
“Me.”
He gives up trying to stop her, putting his head on the counter in shame.
“Plus Eddie,” she finishes, raising a fourth finger and waving it at him. Eddie nearly falls over with surprise. Sure, the whole conversation had been gearing up to it, but he wasn’t expecting an actual confirmation. Steve doesn’t even argue. “Four for four, Steve. Not including Tommy, Carol, the Tommy and Carol incident, or the time you made out with Argyle, which actually makes seven. Do I need to keep going?”
Woah, woah, woah, what? Here he is being jealous of Jonathan when fucking Argyle is the one he needs to watch out for. Eddie briefly wonders if he can get away with putting hair remover in his shampoo or some shit. Weed out the competition. 
No, that’s too far. 
He also wants to hear more about this Tommy and Carol incident. 
Robin is still waiting for a reply, eyebrow raised. 
“No,” Steve mutters into the counter.
“That’s what I thought.” She hops up on the counter, lightly tugging his hair to get him to look at her. “I just listed all your friends who aren’t toddlers, so which of them is it? Fair warning, if it’s Jonathan I’ll just kill you to put you out of your misery.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with Jonathan?” Steve asks, afronted. Maybe Eddie should be jealous.
“Nothing! Except the part where he’s your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend. Even if they are in the middle of the world’s most awkward slow-burn breakup, that’s not the Dingus I know.”
“Are they really?” Steve asks, apparently oblivious to something even Eddie could see from outer space. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not Jonathan. It’s…it’s Eddie.”
“Eddie,” she echoes, entirely unsurprised. “Steve, you know I hate to be the voice of reason, but that is a remarkably bad idea. Like, Jesus, that’s rough.”
Ouch. He thought Robin liked him. 
Steve smirks. “So is he.”
“Ew.” Robin throws a VHS case at him. 
“Ow! Hey!”
“Dingus! Why is your brain so nasty all the time?”
“Oh, like yours is so pure. I can see your rent history, Buckley. How many times have you watched Fast Times this week?”
They’re off, bickering like the world's worst comedy duo, and Eddie has to stifle his laughter into his hand. Jesus, but they could go on television with this shit. Buckley is a master at coming up with insults. 
Finally, they wind down, and Robin leans against Steve. “You know this is gonna break your heart, right?” She asks quietly, sadly. Eddie busies himself with studying the back of whatever movie is in front of him, pretending he’s not straining to catch every second of this conversation. 
“I know,” Steve answers. Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “Worth it, though.”
“Is it?”
His laugh is hollow. “I guess we’ll see.”
The thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to break Steve’s heart. He wants to hold it in his hands, feel along the steadily-beating shape of it, learn all the things that make it tick. Wrap it in bubble wrap, store it away in his own chest so that no one else can get to it. Keep it safe. 
There’s just one problem with that. 
Eddie’s never been on a date in his life. 
Everyone knows Steve is a romantic. He’s the kind of guy who’ll buy flowers for a date, chocolates for Valentine’s Day, take you to the movie theater and make out in the back. All the classics. Eddie’s version of romance so far has been sacrificing himself to the wet spot so Steve wouldn’t have to deal with it. 
If he’s going to date Steve, he wants to do it properly. Which, okay, they can’t really risk necking in a theater, and they’d have to be careful at a diner, and Lover’s Lake is out for obvious reasons, and—
Jesus, dating as a queer is fucking hard. He hasn’t even been on one yet, and he’s exhausted thinking about all the hoops they’ll have to jump through. Maybe they could just get takeout and a movie, like they always do.  
No. No. He just said he was going to be romantic, dammit!
What is romance, anyway? Really it’s just a false sense of meaning attributed to certain gestures instead of others. In a different universe, ding-dong ditching burning dog shit on someone’s porch is probably a declaration of intent. 
Hmm. 
No! 
Okay, romance. He can do romance. After all, he wrote the greatest love story of all time. Between Sir Severus the knight and the great bard Edith the Magnificent. 
He’s never claimed to be subtle. 
He stares down at his notebook, page empty and mocking. He’s going to need some help. 
With a huff and a dirty look at the notebook, he heaves himself out of bed. Stalks through the hallway so he can punch a number in the phone with more than a little vehemence. 
“Wheeler? Yeah, it’s Eddie. Can you put your sister on?”
“Romance,” Nancy repeats, brow furrowed. “You’ve been sleeping with Steve, and now you want to romance him.”
“Yep.”
“And you came to me and not Robin because…”
“She can’t keep a secret from Steve. C’mon, Wheeler, you know this.”
She purses her lips in a way that he knows means she agrees with him. “You know,” she says, “As someone who did date Steve, I think he would just be happy to be with you. You could be doing anything, and it would be amazing to him because you were there.”
Eddie stares at her. “That’s such a cop out.” 
Her face instantly goes from sweet to annoyed beyond comprehension. It’s his favorite expression of hers. He makes sure to bring it out often. 
Eddie puts a single rose on Steve’s nightstand. Yellow, like his favorite color. There, he thinks proudly, declaration of intent. 
Nancy is less than impressed when he tells her. 
“What’s the problem?” He asks, affronted. “It’s a fucking rose! In his favorite color! There’s no way to misinterpret that!”
“Did you even read the pages I copied for you?”
“I started to, but then I remembered that yellow roses exist. He looks really good in yellow, and it’s his favorite color, so he’d probably appreciate a yellow rose. See? Romantic.”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pulling the book off her nightstand and flipping through the pages. He doesn’t get what the big deal is, he thinks his idea was pretty fucking swell, actually. He tells her so. 
The answering look she gives him could level a city. 
“It’s a nice idea,” she tells him. “The sentiment is right. It would be perfect if his favorite color was anything else.”
“What’s wrong with yellow?”
She purses her mouth and shows him the book, open to roses and their color meanings. 
“Son of a bitch!”
Friendship roses. Fucking friendship roses. Most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months
Text
Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Sunday)
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Summary | The final day, but at last, not the final goodbye.
Word Count | 3K
Chapter Warnings | Familial fluff, plenty of emotions, explicit smut, breeding kink, cumplay/cum eating, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, breath play, possessive!Joel, lots of feels, but lots of happiness too.
Authors Note | Okay I know I teased DP but it ended up not fitting the vibe, please forgive me. BUT HERE WE ARE. THE LAST PROPER CHAPTER. We still have the epilogue to go, but I can't believe we're kinda wrapping up here. Thank you for all the love you give this series. I know this one is shorter, but I didn't want to drag it out, I hope you think it's a perfect as I think it is. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow@thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.
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Tommy is still snoring softly into your ear when you wake the next morning, but the hand that Joel had kept clutched in his own all night is empty, his side of the bed cool again like it had been a few days ago. You let yourself have a moment wrapped up with Tommy, the warmth of his body almost lulling you back to sleep until you remember your son is here and one of you needs to get up to go and see to him.��
You extricate yourself gently from Tommy, being careful not to wake him. He’s spent the last week being at the beck and call of Joshua, so you decide to let him sleep in a little this morning. You throw on some comfy clothes that have been lying around the room for most of the week before heading down to the room you’d put Joshua down in the previous evening, but the door is open, and the bed is empty. The door to Sarah’s room is also open so you make your way down into the living area, but that’s also empty. 
The door to the back porch is slightly ajar, and when you step out onto it, you can see Sarah and Joel sat on the benches near the fire pit, where you’d been a few evenings before, Joshua sat on Joel’s knee as he bounces him up and down gently. It makes you heart swell and your eyes glass over with tears as you watch Sarah break off a little bit of her toast to put in his hand. One big, happy family. 
“Good morning.” You smile when you reach them, Joshua looking up at you with his hands sticky from the jam that had been on Sarah’s toast. 
“Mama!” He outstretches his arms for you to pick him up from Joel’s knee, which you do, cradling him to your neck in your usual morning hug. 
Sarah shuffles over, making room for you to sit between the two of them, you try not to sit too close to her father, but you can still feel his warmth through your clothes, as he moves his arm to put it on the back of the bench. You wish he’d wrap it around your shoulders as you move Joshua to sit on your lap. 
“You okay this morning, baba?” You ask him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“Sarah fed me toast!” 
“You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” You chuckle, “She didn’t feed me any toast!” 
You’re still chuckling when Sarah’s hand comes into your periphery with her last slice of toast, holding it in front of you for you to take a bite, you let out a hearty laugh but take a bite none-the-less, because it looks like the toast Joel makes, covered in butter and slathered in fruity jam. 
“Don’t want anyone spreading rumors about me having favourites.” She laughs, taking her toast back for herself. 
Joel leans forward so he can see Sarah around your body, his hand resting on your arm so casually to keep you still while he speaks to her, “What about me?” He asks. 
“You’ve just eaten three slices,” She accuses, “You don’t need anymore.” 
“Rude.” He grumbles next to you, keeping his hand there, like he was just waiting for an excuse to touch you. 
You really want to turn around and kiss him. Tell him that it’s okay, that you’ve sorted everything with Tommy, that his faith in you worked out. You wonder if the time they spent together last night means he knows? Did Tommy say something? Does his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin means he knows he can have you whenever he wants now? Your mind is racing a mile a minute when Tommy joins you. 
He's found a tray somewhere, and it’s got four mugs of steaming coffee on it, plus a box of juice for Joshua. He hands them out, stabs the straw into the box of apple juice for Joshua before he takes his son from you, sitting him on his lap on the bench across from the three of you. 
“I miss you all.” Sarah says softly next to you. 
You turn to her, wrapping your own arm around her shoulder, because she sounds sad. You pull her closer into your side, leaning down to press a kiss to her head like you had done with Joshua. 
“Ah bug, we miss you too,” You say softly, listening as she sniffs, “But you’re doing amazing things, babygirl,” She’s only been gone a few weeks, but you think it must be hard for her, having spent her entire life around three people who would have died for her if necessary, “We’re already so proud of you, but think of what this one,” You nod your head towards Joel, digging your elbow into his side slightly, “Is going to be like when you graduate, when you find the cure for mankind,” She chuckles a bit at this, wiping her eyes, “And you can come home and see us whenever you need to, or we can jump in the car and come to you.” 
You give her one last squeeze into your side before she pulls away with a smile. You make the mental note to make more of an effort to call her and see how she’s doing each week, you’re sure there are things happening that she won’t want to tell Joel. 
Once you’ve all finished your coffee, Tommy is the one to speak, “We should probably think about making a move soon,” He nods to you, “It’s a long drive back with this one.” 
You nod, trying not to think about having to go back to real life, having to go back to work and juggle that with being a mom, but it was inevitable really. You’re always running out of time with this little bubble you’ve created. 
Packing up is easy, you hadn’t unpacked many of the clothes you’d bought, Joel had made sure to keep you naked often, and you pack up the leftover food for Sarah to take back to college with her. She’s particularly excited about having steak for dinner when you pass the pack of meat you hadn’t used last night to her. You wave her off as he drives away, holding on to Joel’s hand as he tries not to cry. It won’t ever get easier for him, watching his little girl drive away, no matter how old she’s going to get, how much she will continue to grow on her adventure, she’s always going to be the girl that begged to ride on his shoulders, begged for pretty much anything and got whatever she wanted.
Tommy heads inside, Joshua on his hip to finish packing everything up, and you press up on your tiptoes to kiss Joel’s cheek, “She’ll be fine.” You say simply with a smile, “And so will you.” 
He wants to say that he knows, but he’s not so sure. His bubble is about to burst, he’ll drive home on his own, to his empty house, and get up tomorrow morning and go about his day as he always has, but with the memory of what it’s like to have you to himself burnt onto his brain. He’s scared. Scared he won’t feel this happy again, but he doesn’t want you to know that, doesn’t want to ask you for more than he already has. So he tells you he knows, kisses your cheek right back, and resigns himself to being lonely once more. 
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It takes you ages to get home. You’re tired. Joshua is fast asleep upstairs having slept most of the journey home too. Your home is familiar, warm, but you can’t help the feeling that something is missing. He’s missing. 
“What did he say?” You ask Tommy as he settles onto the couch with you, glass of whiskey in his hand to unwind before you go to bed. 
“Huh?” 
“What did Joel say when you told him I could see him more?” 
Tommy looks at you with a confused look on his face, like you’re talking to him in another language. 
“I thought you would have told him?” 
Your heart sinks. You have a lump in your throat. God fucking damn it. You put your head in your hands. You let that man leave you not realizing he wasn’t saying goodbye until it was the right time of the month again. Not realizing you kept your promise, fixed it all. Not knowing he could be happy. 
“When would I have had the time?” You ask. 
“That’s why I left you outside when Sarah left!” He exclaims in defense, “I thought you’d tell him then.” 
“I didn’t!” You cry, trying not to freak out, “Oh Tommy, he’s going to think the worst.” 
He puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to soothe you, “Why don’t you tell him now?” He offers softly, “He’s only a few streets over.” 
“I’ve been gone so long.” You try and fight, the guilt at being away from this part of your family weighing on you. You've neglected them, you think. You should be here, with them, you think.
“Sugar, we coped a week without you,” Tommy muses, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “We can go one more night,” You look up at him, eyes glassy, because now you realise he truly meant it, that he honestly wants his brother to be happy, and if that means having you then so be it, “Go on,” He nods his head towards the door, “Go get your man.” 
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It’s late. Joel is sitting on his couch, TV on low, bottle of beer half-finished on the side table. He should go to bed, he knows he’ll have a long day catch up with work tomorrow, but he can’t switch his brain off. He feels lonely. Sat in his house, alone, after a week of having the love of his life curled up next to him. He almost pulls out his phone, shoots a text to the girl he’s been seeing, but he doesn’t want to fuck, he wants someone to cuddle. Someone to fall asleep next to and hold as she snores into his skin, and she never stays, always catches her breath and leaves as soon as she can because that’s what they agreed. 
He's about to call it a night when his doorbell rings. He panics, mainly because he wonders if it something to do with Sarah, has she hurt herself? Was she in an accident on the way back to college? He knows it isn’t, because she messaged him a few hours ago with a photo of the steak she’d cooked, but he still panics as he walks to the door, expecting to open it and find a police officer standing there ready to tell him something awful, but when he opens the door, it’s you. His pretty girl. The woman he’s spent less than twelve hours away from and is already yearning for. 
He moves to open his mouth, ask what’s wrong, but you launch yourself at him. Jumping onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass to keep you upright as you plant your lips right on his. He doesn’t argue, steps back and kicks his door shut, kissing you right back. You open your mouth against his, and he follows, letting your tongues work together as he carries you to his kitchen, setting you on his countertop. 
“What’s all this for?” He asks quietly against your lips, pressing his back to yours lightly before he lets you answer. 
“He knows,” You speak softly, gripping onto the collar of his flannel, “He’s known all along, how much you love me, how much I love you,” You kiss him again as his heart flutters in his chest, “Says you can have me whenever you want Joel, you can share me, if that’s what you want.” 
He holds your face in his palms, looking into your eyes for any sign this might be a sick joke, but he only finds them filled with love, the same way you’ve looked at him all week, “Is that what you want?” He asks, because he only wants what you want. 
“Yes,” You breathe against his mouth, “I want you, always I want you Joel,” You kiss him again, “Now please, put your fucking mouth on me and tell me you want the same.”
It’s desperate this time, when he kisses you, all teeth and tongue and moans as his hands pop open the button of your jeans. You lift your hips off the counter so he can drag them off you. You whine when he pulls his lips from yours, but he drops to his knees, pulling you as close to the edge of the counter as he can without dragging you off him. You expect him to tease you, to work you up, but what he does this time is use his thumbs to spread the folds of your pussy and sucks your clit right into his mouth. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as he lets your clit go from between his lips, but uses the tip of his tongue to flick at that bundle of nerves. 
You keep your eyes on him as he devours your cunt, how own eyes looking right back up at you, challenging you to come, challenging you to come undone for him. Using the flat of his tongue to give wide licks to you, then swapping to those delicate kitten licks that make your hips buck into his face. He’s proving himself to you, proving to you he’s worthy of this, of having you around more than he’s used to. He will spend the rest of his life on his knees, worshipping at your altar like this if he must. 
“Fuck, Joel,” You groan as he sinks two of his fingers into your pussy, curling them upwards into that spot he knows makes you sing, “Gonna make me come.” 
“You gonna cover me, pretty girl?” He asks, pulling away from your cunt just enough to speak, “Want you to soak me.” 
It’s filth like that which always tips you over the edge, like right now, as you clench around his fingers, his tongue back on your clit as you do exactly what he wanted, those fingers coaxing you to gush around him, soak his face as he groans into your cunt, coaxing out every last drop of your orgasm before he stands, giving you barely any time to compute what’s happening, before his thick cock is sinking right into the depths of you. 
You have no idea whether you’re still coming from before, or whether this sets another one off, as he drags your mouth back to his own, your taste so prevalent on his tongue, but you’re fluttering around his cock, arching into him and crying out his name again. It’s too much, he’s too much, but you don’t want him to ever stop as his hips snap into yours and his hand settles on your throat. 
He uses that hand to push your head up, looking you straight in the eye, “Mine now, aren’t you pretty girl?” He punctuates this with a thrust into you. 
You nod as he squeezes his hand around your throat a little, nibbling at your jaw line, “Yes Joel,” You whimper, “Yours.” 
Because you are. You might be someone else’s as well, but in these four walls, when you’re on your own? You’re just as much his as anyone else’s, and that makes you melt. He’s close, you can feel it, hear it in the way he’s groaning into your skin. 
“Come on Joel,” You coax breathlessly, “Give it to me, come inside me.” 
“Fuck,” He spits out, “Gonna give you a baby, give it to you right now, mama,” You choke out a sob as he speeds up the snapping of his hips into you, “Give you the fuckin’ moon if you asked me.” You don't doubt him, you know he would, you're tempted to ask for it right now, just to see what he does, see what he gives you.
He pushes himself into you so deep you can feel him in your stomach as he comes, biting down on your shoulder, hands gripping your hips as you feel the ropes of his cum fill you up, praying that this, or any of the times before during the week, have planted his baby right inside you. You want to swell with him again, to make something beautiful with him again, and to be able to properly share the joy with him this time. 
He slips out of you, but as is the norm for Joel now, he sinks his fingers into you, stuffing you full of him, giving you as much of him as he possibly can, leaning over to kiss you as he does. He lets you suck his fingers clean, kisses you again, totally unbothered that he can taste himself on your mouth. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. 
“You gotta go?” He asks softly. 
“I’m yours,” You smile, leaning up to peck his lips, “I can stay as long as you want.” 
So you do. You stay all night. Curled up in his bed with him. He wakes you up once in the night, slowly easing himself inside your cunt from behind, body clutched to him, rocking his hips into you so so slowly, coaxing your orgasm out from you like he has all the time in the world, because he does now. He doesn’t need to rush with you anymore, your time won’t run out anymore, because you’re his just as much as you're Tommy's. 
As he clutches you to his chest, his heart full of so much love, with finally somewhere to put it, he thanks the Lord, he thanks you, but most of all he thanks his brother, for loving him this much, for loving him enough to give him his own slice of happiness. Because for the first time in a long time, he truly is happy, whole again, because of his brother, because of you. Because of his pretty girl.  
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gilbirda · 2 months
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Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 23
BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz
[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]
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“Sorry about that,” Jazz was as chirpy and radiant as she usually was when she found them in the breakfast room. “Danny’s extra cranky. Probably haven't slept in a few weeks.”
“Everything okay?” Bruce had to ask.
Jazz's smile was bright as she sat down next to Jason, who was finishing his toast. “Yeah! I feel better than ever!”
Right. The vials.
“I meant your brother.” Bruce’s eyebrow twitched with the thousand questions he surely wanted to ask.
Jazz looked up from where she was reaching for the toast and some strawberry jam. “Yeah? He’s sleeping. He’ll be fine.”
Dick chuckled and leaned in. “What Bruce meant to say,” he side eyed his father, who breathed in relief and continued drinking his coffee, “is what was that about? Things seemed pretty heated between Danny and you.”
Jason gave him a warning look, but otherwise didn’t react.
On the other hand, Jazz snorted. “Ghosts’ love language is fighting.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”
Jason’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and very wisely chose to bite back a few questions. Also Jazz’s personality was slowly starting to make sense. He was sure that once he knew everything he wouldn’t need to feel this confused.
“Could have fooled me.” Dick commented instead. “Danny really didn't like Jason.”
“He didn’t—” Jazz tensed. She finished chewing and forced her shoulders to relax. “Is not that— I mean. I think Danny will like him, it’s just—”
“Is this about your exes?” Her boyfriend asked softly, reaching for an apple and putting it on her plate. She quietly thanked him.
“Yes and no. I…” she blushed, “I don’t have the best track record.”
Bruce cleared his throat. “Did you— Uh.” He realized too late he could sound like he was interrogating her. “I apologize, but I need to ask. The report Danny mentioned—?”
“Yeah. That.” With a tired sigh, Jazz put her knife down. “David. He… Well.”
“That’s the one that cheated on you, right?”
She nodded at Jason. “I found out I was actually a side piece. It wasn’t fun.” She scrunched her nose.
“What happened?”
“Dick.” Jason warned.
“No, no. It’s okay. I took care of it.”
“Dislocated shoulder and shattered hand?” Cass spoke for the first time.
Jazz sighed again. “The dislocated shoulder was because he didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” She made a face. “And the hand was because I didn’t realize how… soft humans actually are.”
At this point? They were getting used to Jazz — and her brother — being a different category in their heads. For Dick it was like the slight adjustment he had to make when he was with the Titans. He had been the only human, fully human, of the group and he had to get used to his best friends and then girlfriend making these types of comments regularly.
“I found out…” Jazz continued with a distant look in her eyes, “I found out because I came back to the living world sooner than I expected and decided to check out my favorite coffee place and he was there with another woman. I thought — ‘well, I’m not around much and I’m also not the most exciting person, of course I got cheated on’ but the more I listened the less it made sense.”
“You are not boring.” Jason scoffed, frowning a little at the self deprecating behavior and the story. How could that idiot not see what he had in front of him?
“Thanks,” her smile was small, but sincere, “but the story doesn’t end there.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as her smile twitched a little. “Things didn’t quite add up and I quickly realized it was me who was the ‘other woman’ and this poor person didn’t know. And him? He was abusing her.”
“What?”
Jazz nodded at Dick. “I followed them, listening in, trying to see any sign that he was not the same person he was with me that he was with her. Claudia — that’s her name — showed textbook behavior of abuse and I had to make sure.” She sighed, leaning back on her seat, looking tired. “Long story short I caught him threatening her and taking her phone and I decided to act. Waited until she was home safe and had a chat with David and told him very nicely that he shouldn’t do that and yes, I may have accidentally sent him to the hospital.”
She went back to her breakfast, choosing to take a bite of her toast and chew for a few moments.
“Claudia took the chance while he was recovering and broke up with him, moved apartments and found the help she needed. I would have preferred she reported him, but I can’t force her and if that was enough for her then it’s fine by me.” She shrugged. “I had to go back to the Realms shortly after so I couldn’t stay to check further, and then things got complicated and I just came back for college stuff and even then I had to be quick.”
Bruce took a sip of his coffee to hide the tiny smile.
Jazz was not a hero or a vigilante, but he could see why she fit in the family so much, and more importantly, why his son liked her so much.
“What happened to the guy?”
Jazz chuckled at Duke’s question. “As much as I'd like to report some type of karmic punishment, last time I saw him he was still frequenting the same coffee place. But he was alone. His hand was healed, though. I didn’t stay longer to check more. I couldn’t.” Her little frown and tense shoulders told them not to pry.
Conversation continued as they finished breakfast, mostly questions about her brother and what they saw almost go down in the kitchen. Jazz was very open about what she could tell, and shared a few stories about Danny and his “bad taste in women”. They noticed how earlier stories about Danny’s powers and Team Phantom adventures were easy for her to tell; but later ones, from about the time Danny graduated highschool, became a stream of “ummm”s and “uhhh”s and “and etcetera” that she used to dance around the truth.
Jason almost felt guilty for contributing to the general subtle questioning, but Jazz was happy enough to share stories and she even acknowledged that she was happy to share the whole thing at a later time.
Soon the timeline that Barbara had roughly put together was filled with tidbits of information — all those blank spots she found were the times the siblings (and their friends) were back in the Infinite Realms. Doing what exactly? That was the final piece of the puzzle.
She talked about training, about classes, about Frighty and Frostbite and Clockwork and a plethora of ghosts as if they were supposed to know who they were — classic Jazz — and with context they quickly understood that the names she repeated the most were some kind of guides or teachers on this mysterious part of her life.
It wasn't difficult to put together that Jazz, Danny and this… “Team Phantom” were somehow related to the High King of the Infinite Realms.
That still left a bunch of questions, like what were their exact roles, who was the king and what were her parents doing during those periods of time. They didn’t broach the subject but they knew from Babs’ research that they were working for the GIW, a sketchy organization that wanted them eliminated, during those times they were in the Infinite Realms.
If they knew about all of this, why haven’t they done something already? If their guesses were correct, they’ve been fighting and training for a bit less than a decade. It didn’t make sense that they had this kind of power, this kind of backup, and haven’t tried to bring down the GIW yet.
Or contacted the Justice League. Sure, they were angry and disappointed that the heroes never came to help, but Jazz insisted they had the situation back at her hometown under control. Technically, they could now ask for that support.
Glancing at Bruce and his calculating eyes, Jason decided he didn’t blame her for not reaching out. And he wasn’t sure what she would do after how bad Bruce had treated her.
“Oh Ancients,” Jazz jumped and put her orange juice back on the table. She glanced at Dick. “The class. Today. I forgot.”
The man chuckled. “I already called and said that I wouldn’t be able to attend today. The show you and your brother put on in the kitchen told me today was going to be interesting enough.”
She blushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. They are already used to me canceling at the last minute. Just Vigilante Things.” He winked.
“Don’t I know it.” A new voice answered from the door. Danny walked in dragging his feet, hair sticking outwards in every direction and eyes narrowed. “Good morning.”
“Hey you.” Jazz turned in her seat. “You look awful.”
“Is my natural charm.” Danny yawned and sat next to his sister. “Hi all. My name is Danny. Can I eat some food?”
Some at the table chuckled at his words. Bruce nodded, amused, and abandoned all pretense that he wasn’t analyzing the siblings.
“Slept okay?” He asked.
“Better than I have in weeks.” Danny shrugged, making quick work of what was left on the table. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t complain about the food being cold. “Mostly because I haven’t slept in weeks more than a few naps under my desk.”
“I told you—”
“I know.” He cut off his sister. “I know. I just never find the time.”
Jazz looked like she wanted to argue but chose to let it go and helped Danny assemble the worst breakfast combination in the world. The rest watched in horror and fascination as the young man devoured everything at a fast pace, not caring about chewing or tasting the food.
Once he swallowed, he continued talking. “We have been using the system — you know, the one you created?” He rolled his eyes when Jazz smiled, pleased. “It has been working fine. It’s just,” he sighed, “after you left everything kept piling up. I didn’t know how much work you did — how much reading I would do.” Danny rubbed his face in despair.
“And that’s why Tucker was my back up for the—”
“And he has been doing a great job but I made the mistake of offering my help, you know, I thought ‘oh, I have some free time! I can help my loved ones’ — that was my first mistake.”
“Thinking?” Jazz arched an eyebrow, her smile mocking.
Danny didn’t find it amusing, but quiet and barely contained chuckles around the table disagreed with him.
“Now seriously, do you need me to come back?” She asked, pointedly ignoring the stares, especially her boyfriend’s.
Danny’s eyes opened wide. “No! No, please. You stay where you are.” He gestured widely with his hands. “We got this. You— You enjoy your vacation.”
Vacation? Jazz said she was in Arkham to learn skills for her work in the Realms.
“I told you I’m not—”
“Yes. You are. Vacation.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. “Stop worrying. We got this.”
“Good luck with getting her to relax.”
“Hey!” Jazz turned towards her boyfriend. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”
“And I am. On the side where you stop worrying.”
Danny finally smiled. “You are not that bad, Mr Boyfriend.”
“Jason.”
Danny’s smiles grew with mischief, and didn’t say anything else. Jazz sighed.
“Please behave.”
“I always do.”
“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I thought we agreed you’d behave when you visit.”
“Still thinking you are capable of ‘being normal’?” He did the air quotes and everything. “Jazz, I love you, but you know that—”
“I know.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “Believe me I know.”
Something clicked in Danny’s mind, because his teasing smile melted from his face the moment her words were out of her mouth.
He glanced at Jason, who tensed at the look, and went back to his sister. “What happened?”
Everyone noticed the switch in the siblings. Danny’s tense shoulders and alert eyes immediately going around the room looking for something. He didn’t know the details but he knew something was up with Jasmine.
“The situation has changed.” She started, still looking down. “I… The—I mean, I will take care of it, I always do, but we need to talk.”
Jason didn’t miss Danny’s dangerous glint in his eye when he looked at him again. Or the green glow in the blue irises.
“You said so in your text.” He nodded. “So this isn’t just about Mr Muscles over there?”
Jazz's soft chuckle was almost able to break the tension in the room. Cass, Duke and Dick stopped breathing, knowing this was it. Damian, who had been ignoring everyone and had been texting John the whole time, finally put his phone down. Bruce and Jason shared a look. This was it.
“How about we move this important conversation to the drawing room? I feel like you will be more comfortable there.” Alfred as always knew when to walk in, and started picking up the dirty dishes without waiting for a reply.
With a few murmurs in agreement, the whole group stood up and moved towards the room they’d been in the previous night. The arrangement was similar, with Bruce in the loveseat and the siblings cramming themselves in the opposite couch to the one where Jason, Jazz and Danny sat down.
Jazz was holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for dear life, trying to calm down. She appreciated his words of encouragement as they walked with the group, and held her head high by the time she faced her brother again.
“Jason, and his family, they… they know.”
Danny lifted an eyebrow. “I have noticed.” He crossed his arms. “After this morning, I’d expect a few screams in horror, but nobody has reported us to the police yet, so…”
“No, no. Danny, they know.”
It took a moment for her words to settle in, but when they did he bared his teeth and stood up. “WHAT?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell, Jazz? It’s been what, a few months? And this guy,” he pointed at Jason, who didn’t, couldn't, look at him, “makes cute eyes at you so you spill MY secrets?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh yeah?” He threw his hands up. “Enlighten me. Tell me how it was, because I was mostly joking when I said you have terrible taste, but—”
“It wasn’t like that.” She growled, bristling. “Things happened and I really need you to trust me for this one.”
“Trust you?” Danny asked, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking me to trust you right now?”
She straightened her back. “Yes I am. When have I led you astray?”
Danny scoffed. “You want the list alphabetical?”
“Danny.”
The siblings glared at each other, face expressions and eyes telling more than what words could tell. Danny was furious but cautious, and the fact that he hadn’t ran away yet was taken as a good sign. Jazz was hurt and pleading, but firm even when both their eyes started turning green.
Bruce wanted to shrink into his seat in shame, but he couldn’t. He did this. Jazz was forced against her will to reveal information so he wouldn’t march her into the Justice League and trial her for crimes he thought she committed. And now she had the chance to pay back, to rightfully blame him and tell her brother how he kidnapped her and hurt her, and she wasn’t saying anything.
“Okay.” Danny finally said. “Okay,” he sighed, “when we are back home you bet your ass you are explaining.”
“Everything will make sense in time.”
“You are starting to talk like Clockwork.”
This made her smirk. “Good. It keeps you on your toes.”
Danny made a mocking face to his sister and turned to look at the others watching.
“I guess there’s nothing to lose.”
There was a flash of bright light and instead of the tired and burned out younger Fenton sibling, they saw a floating glowing figure dressed in black and white. It was still Danny, but hair was white and eyes were green; and all the ghostly physical traits they saw in the siblings — fangs, claws, pointed ears — were exaggerated in this form.
“My name is Danny Phantom. The one and only hero of Amity Park—�� Jazz cleared her throat, “I mean,” he glared at her and crossed his legs in the air, still floating, “I am the only undead hero of Amity Park. I have helpers.”
“Very funny.” Jazz said. She turned towards Bruce, Jason and the others. “Guys, this is my brother. Danny, these are the Waynes. Jason’s family.”
Danny’s eyebrows arched. “You are Bruce Wayne?” The way he asked had zero amount of awe. He was familiar with the name and not in a good way.
“You know who I am?”
“Sam — my girlfriend — knows who you are. She’s been to a few of your fancy-schmancy galas. She said she hated every second of it.”
The older man found it funny. “They tend to be mind numbingly boring.”
“Hey Danny,” Jazz’s voice was careful, “is this place safe?”
This made the young man tense and unfold his legs, all playfulness gone. “What do you mean?”
“I— I did my own check, but I’d feel better if you did one too. I wouldn’t like for, hm, Vlad to—”
“Vlad is involved in this?” Nobody missed the growl in his chest.
“All will make sense, I promise.” Jazz pleaded, lifting her hands in a placating manner.
Jason glanced at Bruce. They knew Vlad Master was bad news, but this confirmed it.
“Okay. Trusting you. Whatever.” Danny breathed slowly and disappeared.
Immediately, Jazz explained: “He’s doing a sweep of the haunt.” Determined, she looked at Bruce and then at Jason. “Will it be okay if I tell him about you guys?”
Bruce looked conflicted for a second, but Jason didn’t hesitate. “Go ahead.” He glared at Bruce as if daring him to say otherwise. “We owe you at least that.”
By the time Danny was back Bruce had come to terms that he had to start being okay with a bunch of things really quick if he wanted his answers. Glancing at Jasmine and how her worried frown never left her, he considered it wasn’t that bad of a step towards properly apologizing to her. She had said a few days ago that his apology at Jason’s apartment wasn’t enough. He was starting to understand the dimensions of the situation he caused.
“Okay. Place is clean. There’s a lot of dead relatives but that’s expected from a haunt like this one.”
Bruce wanted so badly to ask him to elaborate on that. But kept his mouth shut.
“Alright.” Jazz breathed in slowly. “Danny,” she started, “remember you are trusting me, ok?”
“You are scaring me.” He tried to joke, but his sister didn’t even smile.
“Could you please show them the… the other thing?”
“What other—” realization dawned on him. “Jazz, you didn’t—!”
“I haven’t!”
“Then why—?”
“I asked you if this was safe, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then listen to me,” she insisted, standing up to approach her brother. “Trust me. Show them.” She took his hands in hers, the contrast of both the alive and dead sibling blurring the longer Jazz stood there. It was like their auras became visible and pulsed together, a low hum barely perceptible rumbling in the room. “Trust me.”
The rumbling stopped when their hands stopped touching. Danny floated back and let his body lower until his feet touched the floor. He threw a worried look at Jazz and nodded, all aggressiveness dissipating and leaving a vulnerable expression on his face.
He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. Gasps and one yelp in surprise filled the silence when green flames engulfed his body, from the bottom of his feet to the last strand of hair, and in its path, it revealed the same undead creature but not quite the same young man.
Danny looked like a completely different person with the dark metal armor over the suit. He looked taller, and bigger, and his presence commanded attention even if he wasn’t saying anything. He wore a cape dark as night, with millions of stars glowing on the inside, and that floated as if some kind of invisible breeze had entered the room.
The most impressive thing, though, was the black crown over his head. It floated a few inches over his hair, and the flames of his transformation seemed to concentrate in the mysterious metal, flowing and pulsating like a heartbeat.
“I am…” Even his voice sounded different. Heavier. He glanced at Jazz, who nodded. “I am Daniel James Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms.”
In the following moments, the Waynes felt like they were living in some kind of surrealistic alternate dimension. It was the moment at the maximum height of a jump, right before gravity did its thing and violently pulled you back down to Earth. Watching Danny, who just a few hours before had crashed into the house and looked more roadkill than person, was floating now in the middle of their drawing room wearing a full armor, a burning crown and a heavy presence that rivaled Batman on a bad day.
Dick broke the moment, acting like the gravity he loved to defy, and hollered a laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Eat shit, Stephanie!”
---
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mtkay13 · 3 months
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A toast to freedom. more info below!
I'm back......... -sigh- I'm so behind on everything I want to post and ofc i just gotta.... post my latest pieces instead of catching up. Oh well. So the illustrations mostly speak for themselves but I know I can find stuff to say about them, so-- First of all, the right side was drawn first, and it was not supposed to be about the nails nor was it supposed to have a companion piece in the first place. I'll be real: I just wanted to draw ZZS's big chest and make it classical portrait style. But I also ended up sort of horny-bonking myself into adding some substance and storytelling to it and put a nail right there (how convenient), haha. It did give me the idea of making a mirrored image, a year and a half later, of ZZS and six nails in, right before he's about to leave--particularly because it illustrates something I've always been QUITE peculiar about when it comes to designing ZZS, and it's the state of his body. At the start, it struck me how in the book, he's described as being skeletal--and how much priest insists on that. I pretty much immediately started trying to draw TYK ZZS as very skinny, because I felt it would make the nails much more dreadful (on top of being faithful to canon which I'm also a bit prickly about). Somehow, while ZZS being well built otherwise is both mentioned in canon a couple of times and influenced by how he looks in SHL, I later found that pushing it a bit further would increase the contrast with how he looks like in TYK and make the nails' impact on his body and health even more striking. I guess that from there, over the past year, I made him bigger and bigger....... I assume because I found it was interesting? (I mean, I still do, but--) Mainly because I love that such a big dude can nonetheless make himself completely unnoticeable, and this image of a tiny grandma turning around a corner and unfolding herself into a big buff guy.... ALSO HLY's looming shadow being this big threatening guy....... IDK ITS MY JAM (not to mention, again, that it's such a strong contrast with TYK ZZS!) A little note--I think I've mentioned so before, but working in animation, I've gotten the habit of trying to "push things" or exaggerate them to make them a bit bolder and striking/powerful. I definitely feel like it has been an impulse on both ends; in the way I draw the skinnier, skeletal ZZS as well as in the way I draw the healthy, top of his game ZZS. Exaggerating things slightly and pushing them out of the molds is an interesting exercise overall, especially with character design (even if at some point we end up toning those exaggeration down, we can at least keep the more interesting elements developed through exaggeration.) So yeah. I thought the two would work well together, and I tried telling things through their expressions, posture, etc.
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lewmagoo · 9 months
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million dollar man | rhett abbott
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description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck
listen to the spotify playlist here!
warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?
pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader
notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3
It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths. 
You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream. 
And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life. 
Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you. 
While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life. 
Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 
He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”
His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell. 
“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad. 
He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that. 
“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander. 
You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt. 
You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess. 
You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction. 
But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you. 
“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus. 
You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”
He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.” 
You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”
He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked. 
You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”
Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”
You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding. 
“Thank you,” you earnestly replied. 
He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 
You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you. 
“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you. 
You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 
“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind. 
You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor. 
Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise. 
You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”
“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile. 
“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him. 
“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said. 
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!” 
You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him. 
He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me. 
Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better. 
Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up. 
You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on. 
You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts. 
The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them, 
You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape. 
Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all. 
Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.
“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak. 
But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back. 
There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse. 
Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment. 
And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it. 
He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out. 
He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom. 
Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin. 
But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes. 
A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him. 
“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact. 
Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”
You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”
I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”
You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?
“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself. 
Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”
He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”
Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do. 
You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.
But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you. 
He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display. 
He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them. 
The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing. 
But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”
Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said. 
He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race. 
You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”
“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed. 
You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”
Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”
You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”
That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”
That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them. 
Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?
When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”
You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”
“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled. 
You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”
He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties. 
That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip. 
After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that. 
But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.
The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part. 
You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy. 
A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger. 
He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered. 
“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context. 
“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you. 
The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top. 
Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you. 
The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”
When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.
“Go outside,” he said to you. 
“But-”
His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”
And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night. 
Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed. 
The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said. 
Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”
Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy. 
“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside. 
He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you. 
“Thanks for that,” you whispered. 
“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”
You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”
“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”
Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house. 
“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”
“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”
Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”
You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”
“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”
To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off. 
His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued. 
“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”
Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”
You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you. 
So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him. 
That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”
You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on. 
“Well?” He asked. 
“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”
And that’s how it all started. 
He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance. 
His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent. 
When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication. 
“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”
You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”
Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”
“But-”
“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”
“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”
“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”
You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would. 
“Okay,” you relented. 
“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”
You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”
Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.
Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision. 
So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive. 
He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne. 
“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle. 
“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side. 
As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items. 
It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats. 
And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy. 
The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while. 
You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives. 
And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist. 
There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror. 
He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”
You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview. 
During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town. 
“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. 
“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”
Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”
You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said. 
“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”
You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”
“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”
Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you. 
Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them. 
“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”
Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”
“You never remarried?”
“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”
“Except for me,” you quietly murmured. 
He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”
“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”
From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else? 
You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet. 
Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such. 
Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it. 
The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop. 
“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”
Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined. 
Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich. 
You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.
An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home. 
“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”
Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”
Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”
“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”
You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.
On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 
“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.
He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”
You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.
You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs. 
There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.
“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.
He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”
Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.
However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.
Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime. 
In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you. 
Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.
He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.
As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you. 
It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.
But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.
He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.
Money would never be a concern for you ever again.
But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life. 
He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more. 
You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.
He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”
He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.
After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.
But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people. 
Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch. 
The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm. 
Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his. 
You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event. 
He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”
“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”
He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”
“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”
Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett. 
But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off. 
And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head. 
He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly. 
“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks. 
And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one. 
It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up. 
Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you. 
The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”
“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side. 
You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background. 
“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet. 
This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did. 
“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers. 
“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen. 
“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”
You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”
Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”
You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t. 
“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing. 
“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.” 
Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him. 
But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted. 
When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.
As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.
Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”
Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”
“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.
Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”
He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across. 
Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help. 
“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.
Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”
You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly. 
“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.”
“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”
In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”
“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them. 
“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”
You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”
Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in. 
Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true. 
What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt. 
When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet. 
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time. 
Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 
It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so. 
A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”
You sighed. “I know.”
“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”
You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.” 
At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. 
“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”
And somehow, you knew he would.  
His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought. 
You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter. 
Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring. 
You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too. 
It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be. 
He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory. 
With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment. 
Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness. 
Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.
That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow. 
Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week. 
Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day. 
You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.
As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake. 
But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness. 
Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on. 
You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it.
You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man. 
“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.
You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.
“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed. 
He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”
“Like a baby.”
He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.
He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”
You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”
He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”
“Exactly.”
He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”
You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”
You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest. 
You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly. 
You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air. 
God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?
“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.
“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off. 
He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet. 
“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”
Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.
You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.
“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed. 
Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple. 
You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you. 
“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”
He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”
He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute. 
Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige. 
“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort. 
“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”
He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled. 
“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”
He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.” 
You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett. 
You could get drunk off of his scent alone. 
When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing. 
But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting. 
Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you. 
Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going. 
You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction. 
“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”
He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”
Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.
Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside. 
Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip. 
You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears. 
You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak. 
And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around. 
Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity. 
“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you. 
“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”
He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head. 
“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”
At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”
Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”
Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”
He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”
You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm. 
As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt. 
The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you. 
“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so. 
“Love you too, baby.”
Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home. 
Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory. 
“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”
At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”
“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”
And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself. 
But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help. 
“C-can you take over, please?” You asked. 
“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”
“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes. 
“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so. 
You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest. 
He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. 
But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion. 
“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light. 
He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt. 
In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm. 
Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow. 
“S’big, Daddy!”
“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm. 
“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”
“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”
“No! Please!” You begged. 
Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”
And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his. 
Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out. 
But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”
“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs. 
This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you. 
“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”
You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss. 
He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were. 
And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit. 
“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” 
All you could do was squeak in reply. 
“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”
At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough. 
Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity. 
“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say. 
“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.” 
He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner. 
“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”
But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.” 
And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock. 
You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky. 
The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms. 
It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover. 
“I…wow,” was all you could say. 
“That was intense, huh?”
You nodded, your eyes watery. 
“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”
“I-I think I’m…okay.”
But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”
“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”
He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again. 
And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove.  Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing. 
Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock. 
He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration. 
He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything. 
He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm. 
“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”
“Please,” came your whisper. 
“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”
With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released. 
Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy. 
Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you. 
“Daddy!”
“Go ahead.”
This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it. 
“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out. 
Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release. 
Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space. 
“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”
You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more. 
And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it. 
He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer. 
“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”
You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him. 
“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”
“W-want you close,” you whispered. 
“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”
He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you. 
“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house. 
It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled. 
He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being. 
A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor. 
“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased. 
You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”
It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”
“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”
You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace. 
You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it. 
Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most. 
You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here. 
Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world. 
-
tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)
@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe
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kumori-suwan · 3 months
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Connection Interference (Part 11)
Damian Wayne x Female! Reader
TW: Pure unfiltered fluff, Damian and Reader reconnecting and making up for lost time, neediness, possessiveness, mentions of nakedness, slight smut suggestion but nothing serious (yet)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sunlight breaks into the room through the blinds, the sunray warms your eyes until you’re forced to open them. You blink until your eyes have adjusted and groan from the soreness in your body. You blame your soulmate since his desperation to hold you last night had you folded in position you didn’t even know about before. You struggle to turn in his arms but don’t fight the longing grip his arm unconsciously has around your waist. You sigh and reach around him for your phone, pressing sweet kisses to his sleeping face to help him feel better. The news pops up on your phone and you smirk seeing your cousin’s mugshot displayed as the leading story.
“‘Rich heiress ditched at dinner date’ that’s hilarious.”, you giggle reading through the article.
Your stomach grumbles with a desire for food and you are more than happy to oblige, with some remarkable skill you pull yourself from Damian’s grip. Your body is littered in love bites and hickies, you’re unsure where your underwear are and ultimately decide just to grab Damian’s dress shirt off the floor and put it on before heading off to the kitchen. Jason had offered you one of his safe houses as a temporary home, naturally he was sure to load it with all the essentials you may need. You whipped up an omelettes, toast, and pancakes for breakfast. Filling the apartment with the sweet scent of maple syrup and jam, it didn’t take long for your love to stir awake in the cold bed.
Damian could hear you in the kitchen and pouted after realizing that you left the comfort of his arms. Despite sleep still messing with the signals in his brain he manages to get up and finds his boxers on the ground. He follows the smell to the kitchen and finds you gently humming and making breakfast. Lost in your own little world you don’t notice him until he’s wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face into the crook of you neck.
“D-Damian you scared me!”, you squealed, your body tense and shaking from your past trauma.
He apologizes and lets up a bit, he’d almost forgotten how sensitive you’d become to touch. You turn around to steal a quick kiss but he doesn’t let you go to quickly, he gently pinches your chin and mumbles a tired ‘good morning’ before peppering your lips in more kisses. You smile and your face burns bright red with excitement.
“Okay, okay, let me finish cooking.”, you shimmy around turning back to the stove to finish the pancakes.
Damian finds himself lost in the domestic bliss of you in the kitchen, its so peaceful and quiet. A perfect morning with his special girl, “We could’ve gone out to eat for breakfast love, I’m sure you’re tired from last night.”, Damian teased watching your thighs clench together.
You send him a fierce glare and pout, “Eggs?”, you ask.
“Yes please.”
You serve him a plate and press another kiss to his forehead as you finally take a seat and enjoy your meal. Damian pulls your chair closer, not wanting you to be separated so much even if it was just by a few feet. You both needed time to heal from your seperate pains but at least now you were both together again.
“(Y/n) I’ve been meaning to ask…how did you heal from all your injuries so quickly?”, Damian mumbled, looking over your scarred body.
You let out a confused hum and swallowed your food before speaking, “Harley brought your ex to visit and heal me. I think her name was Rachel?”
“Raven visited you? Did she say anything to you?”
You stared into his deep emerald eyes and smiled, “She asked me to take care of you.”, was all you responded with.
Damian suddenly felt nervous, hopefully Raven hadn’t told you any stories of Damian in his youth. Truly he was a menace and an irritating one at that. You noticed his sudden change in demeanor and smirked as you recalled a story she’d told you.
“So how come you’ve never stolen me away from Galas? Honestly they’re really boring-“, you noticed his face redden at the mention of his younger antics, “She gave me so many stories to use against you.”
He whines and begs you not to say anymore but then you mention his meeting with the Titans and when Jaime almost killed him. Those were some of his worst stories, he pressed kisses to your lips to distract you but your curiosity was begging to hear more stories.
“Tell me a bit more will you?”, you asked sweetly, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He looks conflicted, almost scared to talk about his past but ultimately he decides that its fine to confide in you. He takes a deep breath and starts with his upbringing, “When I was a little boy my mother and grandfather were grooming me to a ruthless warrior. They wanted me to be King of the world, stained by bloodshed and corruption. I used to think that was okay, it was my normal. Training was unforgiving, I got hurt so much but emotions were hindering in that place. I was a spoiled overconfident brat.”
“Sounds like I would’ve hated you if we met as kids.”, you thought aloud making Damian laugh at the truth behind your words.
“Oh without a doubt you would’ve but I changed. I was still an arrogant brat growing up when my father took me under his wing. I grew out of it eventually, I learned what family and love was. I learned to express myself better and cherish what I had. It was never enough, I felt incomplete again after I met you at school.”, Damian confessed, “Seeing you cry like that, listening to you degrade yourself like that, it made my heart hurt. I would look for you, search every night for you just to make sure you were okay. You had me worried, I was scared I’d lose you before meeting you again because of the things you were going through at the time. I was so happy when I finally got to see you again, even if you were mad at me. I never knew my soulmate could bring me so much joy, you don’t understand how much I love you and it scares me to think I almost lost you again.”
Damian fell silent, his eyes becoming glossy as tears threatened to spill from them. You stared at him with such tenderness, it was the first time he’d ever actually cried since meeting you again. You leaned again him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sweet smile, “Well it’s a good thing we both changed for the better huh? I’m glad I have you now Damian, sorry I made you worry so much about me. I’m really glad I’m yours again.”, you hummed.
Damian nodded his head, letting the heavy tears roll down his cheeks. He was finally letting the stress leave his body, he had you again and that’s all he really needed. The sense of safety never left the room, you two had each other and for now that was more than enough.
“(Y/n) I love you so much.”, he sniffles, wiping away his tears.
You nod and confidently speak those sweet words back to him. “I’m a broken woman Damian, but I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of our lives.”, you smile at him cupping his face and pulling him down for another sweet kiss.
Damian kisses back with just as much passion, almost pushing you to the kitchen floor out of desperation. You whisper against his lips reassuring him that you’re not going anywhere just so that he’ll let up. His eyes show it all, every ounce of insecurity and fear he has bottled up inside, it’ll take time but you both have each other now, everything will be fine now.
“Let’s finish breakfast and go to the Manor I wanna see everyone.”, you ask softly.
Damian just nods his head and smiles, home will finally feel like home when you return. You both quickly finish up breakfast and change into proper clothes before heading back to the manor. Damian drives back, his free hand resting on your thigh while you ramble on about how life was in the hospital for you. Hearing about your pain makes him a bit upset but you always seem to notice and you change the story to something silly you’d done.
“We’re here.”, he whispers, scowling at the large group of family members happily waiting for you at the front door.
“Seems like they missed us.”, you tease.
You slowly step out and wait for Damian to join you at your side before making your way to the rest of the family. Everyone is so excited to see you but they notice how tense you are, Damian protects you explaining that you’re traumatized from the attack. Everyone is understanding they all go slow with you just happy to have you home again.
A grand feast is made in celebration of your return, everyone shares stories and gossip they’d been wishing to tell you in person. You listen happily, sitting with your knees to your chest for comfort. The changes in your behavior are subtle but everyone can see that you have been through a lot. Your skin is littered in scars but thankfully your sincere smile remained through it all. The Manor was complete now that you were home but even while enjoying the merriment with your family something bothered you in the back of your head.
You’d never really know peace until your grandmother was dealt with and you knew exactly how to do it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week had passed since the incident at the restaurant and Gloria was furious with the humility that Damian had brought onto her family. She demanded a meeting with him to discuss what had happened. She was so close to completing her lifelong mission, with her precious granddaughter married into wealth her status would remain known throughout the world! Gloria couldn’t afford to let any of her pawns be moved out of place so close to the finish line!
“Wayne you’ve got alot of nerve disrespecting my family like this! You dare to humiliate my granddaughter and you get her arrested after saddling her with that ridiculous restaurant bill! You’re a idiotic brat and a fucking fool if you think you’ll find anyone better than her!”, Gloria shouted her derogatory comments at the back of Damian’s office chair which only infuriated her more. She stormed up to the desk reaching for the chair to spin it back towards her.
“Don’t you dare ignore me you assho-“, her skin visibly paled once she saw who was sitting in the chair, “Wh-What are you doing here?”
An amused chuckle spilled from your soft glossed lips, for the first time in years you faced your grandmother with the same ferocity as a lioness stalking its prey. Dawning your crisp navy blue suit and a file of evidence that would change the fate of the Fallon family in hand you ordered her to sit down.
“Mrs. Fallon it’s a pleasure to have you here. Mr. Wayne is out on a business meeting right now but I can assure you that business will be dealt with today as promised.”, you smiled warmly.
“Oh no you don’t! I don’t speak to filth, I’m leaving!”, Gloria shouted.
There was another knock at the door and you yelled for the other party to enter. Once again Gloria paled and felt her blood pressure rise with panic.
“Mr. Montgomery, pleasure to have you here. Please take a seat I’m here to make a deal with you today.”, you explained, noticing both Cassandra and Jason following the old lawyer in.
“What are you doing?”, Gloria growled.
“Finishing what my mother couldn’t all those years ago.”, you confessed, this would be the final time you’d see Gloria and you would make sure that she never stepped foot in Gotham again. You had to protect your soulmate from her and this was the only way to do it.
175 notes · View notes
barelytolerabled · 4 months
Text
Speeding Hearts part 2
lando norris x fem!driverReader
summary: you and your best friend, Pierre Gasly, had the same dream. but now that you're living it together you start to want something else, someone else.
WC: 3k333
prev/next
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The morning light gently filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the hotel room. As the world slowly stirred awake, you found yourself already up, the excitement of the day ahead pulling you from slumber. Pierre, still lost in dreams, slept peacefully in the bed, undisturbed by the early morning.
Quietly moving about the room, you got ready for the day, ensuring not to wake your peacefully sleeping friend. Just as you put the finishing touches, a faint knock on the door interrupted the calm.
Carefully tiptoeing to the door, you cautiously opened it to find Lando standing outside, a bright smile on his face. "Good morning! Ready for breakfast?" he greeted, not aware of the sleeping figure in the room.
Nodding softly, you replied in a whisper, "Just a moment, let me grab my purse."
Lando chuckled softly, slightly amused by the whispered exchange, but his amusement faded into slight confusion when he glanced past you and saw Pierre sleeping soundly in the double bed. The realization of the situation dawned on Lando, his eyebrows raised in puzzled surprise, but he tactfully said nothing, not wanting to intrude or make assumptions.
When you reappeared, ready to head out, Lando greeted you with a warm smile and offered his arm in a gentlemanly gesture. You smiled back appreciatively, silently grateful for his discretion. Together, you left the room, leaving Pierre undisturbed in his peaceful slumber.
Seated in the hotel cafeteria, you and Lando navigated through breakfast, exchanging light banter and discovering shared quirks. It turned out both of you were picky eaters, sparking a conversation about your culinary preferences.
"So, what's your go-to breakfast?" Lando asked, sipping his coffee.
You chuckled, "I'm a simple cereal person. Nothing too fancy."
"Ah, a classic choice," Lando grinned. "I'm more of a toast and jam kind of guy myself."
As the conversation flowed, you learned about Lando's racing journey, his interests outside of Formula One, and the nuances that made him uniquely Lando Norris. It felt like you were getting to know a friend, someone who shared not only the racing track but also the quirks and nuances of everyday life.
However, there lingered a curiosity in Lando's eyes, a question he hesitated to ask. Sensing the unspoken inquiry, you met his gaze, a silent acknowledgment between newfound friends. The topic of Pierre hung in the air, unspoken but present.
Lando decided to shift the conversation, "So, do you have any pre-race rituals or superstitions?
You chuckled, "Well, Pierre and I have this thing where we exchange a good luck gesture before every race. It's been a tradition since our karting days."
Lando smiled, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He knew there was more to discover about the dynamics between you and Pierre, but for now, he respected the budding friendship and decided to let time unravel the layers naturally.
As the breakfast conversation continued, the camaraderie between you and Lando deepened, setting the foundation for a friendship that promised shared laughter and maybe some challenges.
The conversation between you and Lando continued, the light banter creating a comfortable atmosphere. Lando, perhaps fueled by a spontaneous impulse, finally decided to address the lingering curiosity.
"So," he began, trying to sound casual, "you got anyone at home?"
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming. "Planning on asking me out if I say I'm single?"
Lando, caught off guard, chuckled nervously, "Well, aren't we currently out?"
You couldn't help but laugh, nodding in agreement. "True, true. I guess breakfast is still a form of you taking me out."
He grinned, "So?"
Before you could respond, the door to the cafeteria swung open, and a slightly panicked Pierre entered. "You scared me! I fell asleep with you, and you're not there anymore when I woke up."
You exchanged a glance with Lando, suppressing a smile. Pierre, oblivious to the playful banter, seemed genuinely relieved to find you safe and sound.
Lando, seizing the opportunity to diffuse any tension, chimed in, "Don't worry, mate. I just borrowed her for a quick breakfast. No harm done."
Pierre, realizing the lighthearted nature of the situation, joined in the laughter. "Alright, alright. Just give me a heads up next time."
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In the bustling atmosphere of the Alpine garage, as you and Pierre prepared for the upcoming session, Lando, with a sly smile, approached Charles Leclerc. Attempting to maintain an air of casual nonchalance, he casually inquired, "So, Charles, I was wondering... Is Pierre’s teammate seeing someone?"
Charles, perceptive as ever, arched an eyebrow. "Why the sudden interest in her, Lando?"
Lando shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "Just curious, you know. She's cool, and I thought maybe..."
Charles interrupted with a laugh, "Maybe you're thinking of asking her out?"
Caught off guard, Lando stammered, "Well, I mean, if she's single and all..."
Charles chuckled, "Relax, mate. Her and Pierre are just friends. They go way back."
Lando's eyes widened in realization, "Wait, really? They're not... together?"
Charles shook his head, "Nope, just good friends. But I'd be careful if I were you. Pierre is quite protective of her."
Lando, unable to shake off his suspicions, continued to observe the interactions between you and Pierre in the Alpine garage. As he watched the two of you work seamlessly together, a perplexed expression on his face, he approached Charles once again, this time a bit more insistent.
"But seriously, Charles, they even sleep in the same bed? How is that purely platonic?"
Charles, amused by Lando's persistent curiosity, let out a hearty laugh. "Mate, not everyone shares your romantic inclinations. They're like siblings. It's a friendship that runs deep, and sometimes, people are just comfortable being close without anything romantic going on."
Lando, still trying to wrap his head around the concept, mused, "I guess I'm just not used to that level of friendship. It's a bit strange, isn't it?"
Charles patted Lando on the back, offering a reassuring smile. "Different strokes for different folks, my friend. Just enjoy the diversity in the paddock, and you'll get used to it.
A subtle doubt lingered in the back of his mind. Could he realistically pursue something with you knowing that you shared a bed with your best friend? The thought, like a persistent whisper, nagged at him. Only one way to know.
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Charles, unable to resist the opportunity to tease you, approached with a knowing smile. "What did you do to the poor boy, mmh?"
You rolled your eyes playfully, "What are you talking about, Charles?"
He chuckled, "Lando's on a mission to win over Pierre. You know how pissed Pierre could be, right? We've been there before, chérie."
A mischievous grin played on Charles' face as he referred to the teenage years when he had a crush on you, and Pierre, your steadfast best friend, had promptly rejected him. The memories of those youthful antics added a layer of nostalgia to the current situation.
You couldn't help but laugh, "Oh, please. Lando is just trying to be friendly. Pierre knows we're just friends."
Charles raised an eyebrow, "Just friends, huh? Well, we'll see how this plays out. It's always interesting when emotions mix with the adrenaline of the racetrack."
Charles, still wearing a sly grin, continued the playful banter. "Well, if Lando manages to win over Pierre, he'll be a legend in the Formula One dating game."
You shot back, a twinkle in your eye, "Let's imagine you're right. Maybe Lando will be a real man and not care what Pierre thinks, unlike you when we were younger, Cha."
Charles feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart, "Ouch, chérie. Bringing up ancient history, are we? I'll have you know I've matured into a charming gentleman now."
You smirked, "Sure, Charles. Charming as ever."
Charles, ever the provocateur, continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I must say, all the men seem to be vying for your attention these days."
You quirked an eyebrow, playing along, "Oh, do they? I hadn't noticed."
Charles laughed, "Come on, you can't deny that you've got the attention of the paddock."
With a smirk, you shot back, "Well, Charles, the only man I care about is Pierre. The rest can keep their attention to themselves."
Charles raised his hands in mock surrender, "Alright, alright. Pierre's the chosen one. But if you ever get tired of that single-man devotion, you know where to find me."
Charles, turning back after he started to walk away, leaned in and whispered, "Oh and I had a little chat with Lando. Set him straight about you and Pierre."
You raised an eyebrow, "And what did you tell him?"
A smirk played on Charles' lips as he responded, "Informed him that you and Pierre are just friends. But, you know, since you're looking for a 'real man' who doesn't care about Pierre's opinion, I might just have to try my luck again."
You couldn't help but laugh at the playful persistence. "Charles, you never give up, do you?"
He winked, "Persistence is a virtue, chérie. Who knows, maybe this time will be different."
Pierre, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, wrapped his arms around both you and Charles, a protective gesture that spoke volumes. He gave Charles a playful shake, a stern expression on his face. "Charles, don't tell me you're bothering her again. Don't you remember what happened last time?"
Charles, caught off guard, looked at you, and you met his gaze with a knowing smile. Without missing a beat, he replied, "What if I am?"
You leaned into Pierre's side, a playful air surrounding the trio. "Oh, come on, Pierre. Charles is just being Charles.”
Pierre's eyebrows shot up in mock disbelief, "You're incorrigible, Charles. Just remember, I'll always be here to keep you in check."
You sighed, playfully testing the waters. "What if I want to go out with Charles, Pierre?"
Pierre, not missing a beat, pulled you closer, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You don't need him. You have me."
You laughed at his response, appreciating the humor. "Well, aren't I lucky?"
Pierre grinned, "Damn right, you are."
As the banter settled, you declared, "Alright, enough of this. It's time for the third free practice. Focus, boys."
Pierre and Charles exchanged a glance before breaking into laughter, the easy camaraderie of your friendship echoing through the paddock. With a final teasing remark, you led the way to the track.
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As the anticipation built up in the pit, you and Pierre focused on the task at hand, qualifying for the race. The air buzzed with excitement as the engines roared to life, signaling the beginning of a crucial session.
You and Pierre exchanged a knowing glance before executing your pre-qualifying ritual.
With the ritual complete, you and Pierre revved up the engines and headed out onto the track, pushing your respective cars to the limit. The circuit came alive with the sound of roaring engines and screeching tires as the drivers vied for the best positions on the grid.
When the dust settled, you secured a commendable 10th position, while Pierre landed just ahead at 9th. The satisfaction of a successful qualifying session was evident as you both returned to the garage.
Pierre grinned, "Not bad, mon ange. P9 and P10 – we're in a good position for the race."
You nodded, the thrill of a successful qualification coursing through you. "Let's turn this into a strong race tomorrow."
The team gathered around, discussing strategy and fine-tuning the cars for the upcoming challenge.
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As Pierre headed off for dinner with Charles, you found yourself standing in front of your hotel room, contemplating the evening ahead. A spontaneous idea struck you, and you walked a few rooms away to Lando's door.
Lando greeted you with a wide smile as he opened the door. "Hey there! What brings you to my humble abode?"
You chuckled, "Well, Pierre is not around tonight, and I was thinking maybe we could grab dinner together."
Lando's eyes lit up, "Absolutely! I'd love to. Come on in."
The two of you headed out to a nearby restaurant, sharing stories and laughter over a casual dinner. The evening unfolded with a mix of camaraderie and newfound friendship, offering a pleasant contrast to the usual dynamics in the fast-paced world of Formula One.
As you and Lando walked to the restaurant, there was a casual ease in the way your arm rested around his. The evening air carried a sense of camaraderie, and the prospect of a relaxed dinner provided a welcomed break from the intensity of the racing world.
Entering the first restaurant you spotted, you opted for a cozy spot where you could sit facing each other. The ambiance was warm, and the soft glow of the lights created a tranquil atmosphere.
Deciding to unwind a bit, you suggested ordering a bottle of wine to accompany dinner. Tomorrow marked your first race, and the stress that accompanied it was tangible. A glass of wine seemed like the perfect way to ease the tension and enjoy the evening.
As the waiter brought the wine to the table, you raised your glass, offering a toast to the upcoming race. The clink of glasses echoed through the restaurant, and with each sip, the conversation flowed, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter.
As the dinner progressed and the wine worked its magic, a playful mood settled over the table. Feeling a bit lightheaded, you decided to inject some teasing into the evening. Casually, under the table, your foot found its way to Lando's, engaging in a subtle game of footsie.
Lando, catching on to the mischief, shot you a smirk across the table. "Getting a bit bold, aren't we?"
You chuckled, "Just adding a touch of excitement to the evening. It's not every day we get to relax like this."
As the evening unfolded, the playful teasing escalated. With a mischievous glint in your eye, your foot ventured further up Lando's leg under the table. The wine-induced boldness seemed to amplify the shared amusement between you two.
Lando, a mix of surprise and amusement, tried to maintain composure. "Alright, you're taking this to a whole new level."
You couldn't help but giggle, "Just adding a bit of thrill to our dinner. Racing isn't the only thing I can be competitive at."
The playful banter and discreet footsie became a shared secret, a moment of laughter and connection that lingered in the air.
Feeling the effects of the wine, Lando decided it was time to call it a night. As you both prepared to leave, you couldn't resist a final tease, asking if he didn't enjoy your touch.
Lando, with a charming smile, replied, "It's not about that. I just think you're not in your right mind tonight."
You scoffed, adding a playful jab, "Charles seemed to think you liked me, but I guess that was a misunderstanding if you don't want me to touch you. Maybe I should entertain his advances then."
Lando's smile faltered, confusion replacing amusement. "Wait, what are you talking about?”
With a sly grin, you informed him, "Charles is ready to do whatever he wants to me, no matter what Pierre might think." Without waiting for a response, you got up, a mix of frustration and playful defiance in your stride, and headed toward the exit, leaving Lando behind to ponder the unexpected turn of the evening.
Feeling the cold air hit you as you stepped out of the restaurant, a wave of clarity washed over you, and regret settled in. "What the hell did you just do?" The realization of your actions during dinner hit you hard.
Suddenly, you felt warmth enveloping your shoulders. Lando had placed his jacket around you, a silent gesture of comfort. In the midst of the chilly night, neither of you spoke. Instead, you instinctively buried your face in his neck, expressing your regret and apologies.
"Why are you sorry?" Lando's voice was gentle, breaking the silence.
You mumbled into his jacket, "I acted like a perv at dinner. It's just... it's been so long since I did anything with a man."
Surprised, Lando questioned, "How come? You could have anyone."
Your voice was soft and tinged with frustration, "It's hard with Pierre's protectiveness."
Lando's inquiries persisted, seeking clarity in the midst of your shared vulnerability. "How long?" His voice was gentle, probing gently for understanding.
Confused at first, you soon comprehended his question. "Oh, how long since... sex?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. "A few months," you admitted quietly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability.
Apologies tumbled out of you once again as you attempted to explain your actions, the wine-induced boldness, and the desire for a carefree night without Pierre's watchful presence.
But before you could continue, Lando interrupted gently, "Stop apologizing. I'd love to make love to you, but tonight isn't the night." His voice was tender yet firm, expressing a longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface.
He explained further, a raw honesty coloring his words, "I want to own you, to have you as mine and only mine, but not when you're a bit drunk."
Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and disappointment intertwining as you struggled to process the conflicting emotions. "I just... I thought tonight would be different. I thought I could have a good night without worrying about everything and everyone," you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice laid bare.
Lando's expression softened, a mixture of understanding and concern. "I know, and I'm sorry if I've let you down. It's not about not wanting you; it's just not the right moment. You deserve more than a hasty decision made in the heat of the moment."
You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "I know you're not being mean, but it hurts. I thought... I thought tonight could be about me, just for once."
Lando gently lifted your chin, meeting your gaze. "It can be about you, but let's make sure it's the right way. I want it to be special, not clouded by too much wine or emotions. You deserve that."
Lando, sensing the need for a shift in the evening's atmosphere, suggested, "What about a good movie? Something to take our minds off things for a bit?"
Sniffing away the remnants of your tears, you nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, a movie sounds nice."
Together, you walked back to the hotel, the night air now carrying a different tone – one of shared understanding. In Lando's room, the soft glow of the TV screen illuminated the space, creating a cozy setting for the impromptu movie night.
The movie cast a warm glow in the room, and as its credits rolled, a quiet comfort settled between you and Lando. The weight of unspoken desires and the tangled emotions of the night seemed to dissipate.
Feeling a sense of camaraderie, you curled up on the bed, finding an unexpected solace in the company of Lando. The dim light illuminated the room as the hushed whispers of the night surrounded you.
As sleep gently claimed you both, a peaceful tranquility settled in, anchoring you in the shared moments of the evening.
Coucou chérie, Pierre a un peu trop profité de la soirée je le garde cette nuit, repose-toi bien bisous❤️
hi honey it’s charles, pierre drunk a bit too much im keeping him tonight, rest well xoxo❤️
Je viens de rentrer t’es où?
just got back, where are you?
That’s not fun answer your phone please
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b-yeonder · 8 months
Text
Bringing Them Breakfast In Bed (Brothers + Undateables)
↬  Genre/Content Warnings: Fluff. Someone gets a boner.
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LUCIFER:
When you walk in balancing the breakfast tray Lucifer is already sat up in bed checking his D.D.D for any important news from RAD, but his attention is quickly diverted to you. The spread you offer him? Buttered toast, two different types of jam in cute little decorative jars, a full wine glass, and a cup of tea.
"Wine in the morning? What do you take me for," he chuckles putting his phone down. Grinning you tell him that it's just grape juice to which he laughs and accepts the tray from you with a sincere thank you. Finds it incredibly endearing and can't stop smiling - calls you his good girl/boy with a wink. Will definitely put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.
MAMMON:
"For me? All of it? Really?"
Yup! He's flabbergasted, blinking stupidly with his mouth hanging open as his cheeks redden before eventually catching himself and clearing his throat, putting on his usual bravado.
"Well damn, I definitely deserve this huh, being the Great Mammon after all!" Cheeks are still red despite his demeanor change. Takes the tray and starts tucking in with gusto.
"Ya gonna help me with this right? Here, I'll feed ya a pancake look--"
He does, insisting on feeding it to you by hand and is a happy bubbly fella all morning. Why? Because his human pampered him and he feels s p e c i a l. (Because he is, of course.)
LEVIATHAN:
Shakes off his tiredness in an instant when he realises what you're handing him.
"Is this that Limited Edition Ruri-chan cereal!? WHOOOAAH!"
A million thank yous before he takes a million pictures to post on his social media (probably with cute captions like "I have the best gf/bf lololololol") and is loathe to eat it but it looks so good and ohhh man he's caved already and it IS good. You can't help but laugh at him as he eats it with his eyes closed, humming happily.
"I can't believe you got these. Just for me? Really? Like, the whole box, you don't want any at all?" Blushes reaaal hard once it dawns on him how difficult it must have been for you to get and that you made all the effort for him and him only.
"What if I feed you a spoonful? They're really good." Blushy blush, hide behind that fringe cutie pie.
SATAN:
"Ohh well well well, what have we here?" A smirk as you hand him his tray. Freezes when he sees what's on his plate and his cheeks redden quickly. You can't help but grin as he just stares. Cat pancakes. Cat-head shaped pancakes with syrupy faces.
"You okay there?"
"I....they're..." He clears his throat and blinks up at you.
"Cute right?" Your grin widens as he nods.
"I don't know if I can eat them..." At his mumbled confession you laugh and plop next to him on the bed, offering to feed them to him which has him blushing more. What can I say, sleepy morning bedhead Satan is easily flustered.
ASMODEUS:
"Oh darling this is amazing! But really all you had to do was show up nude and that would have been all the breakfast I need--"
"ASMO!"
He giggles and licks his lips at the delicious looking spread laid before him. "G A S P, is this GLITTERY JAM!?"
"Yes! Isn't it cool?"
Squeals and tucks in, rolling his eyes in his head. "Oh my gosh it tastes as good as it looks. This would make a good lipstick colour, we should go looking for one later." Uses it as an opportunity to gossip and get a few little flirtatious moves in before the day has even started. Dabbing jam on your nose just to lick it off making you snort with laughter and shove him away. 
BEELZEBUB:
Presented with a full English breakfast, a giant stack of pancakes, and orange juice - his eyes are the size of saucers as his pupils flick from the food to you.
"What's wrong, handsome?"
"I'm trying to decide what I want to eat more right now - the food or you." Because yes the poor sausage is overwhelmed and gets hard with excitement over all the deliciousness before him. Ends up shoving some egg in his gob followed by a pancake and half of the orange juice before pouncing on you. "Lemme love you!"
"BEEEL-!" He's grinning and smothering you with breakfasty smooches leaving you a giggling mess.
(Would want to finish his breakfast with you wrapped in his arms after because hugs and food are the best.)
BELPHEGOR:
"I've never seen you eat breakfast so I didn't know what to make you therefore I am serving myself," you say, gesturing to yourself with a flourish.
"Perfect." Instantly grabs you and starts biting and gnawing at you making you erupt in a fit of giggles and try to push him off. "Mmmm human, so delicious!" Keeps going, pinning you down and climbing on top.
"BELPHIE STOP THAT TICKLES." Evil grin plastered on his face, eventually ends the antics with a kiss on your nose. Then bites it.
"Just for future reference though, I love a good omelette. Make me one of those and I'm yours forever."
"You're not already mine forever?"
"No, you suck, make me an omelette." Collapses on top of you so you can't go and make one even if he wasn't just winding you up. 
DIAVOLO:
Has a massive grin on his face the moment you set foot in his room, getting even bigger when he sees you've brought food. You serve it professionally, pretending to be Barbatos and making him laugh. 
"Your breakfast, young Master."
"Ooo, my birthday must have come early? OH! Is that...a foam Cerberus in my coffee!?"
Devours everything eagerly, insisting on sharing with you no matter how much you protest. 
"Come now, you deserve to taste the fruit of your labours. It's wonderful!" Like a big kid, smothers you with kisses when he's done. "I'll have to think of a proper way to repay you..."
BARBATOS:
Completely taken by surprise - it was usually him that was serving meals after all and here you were up at an even earlier hour than him handing him a breakfast tray? Doesn't know what to say at first, eyes roaming over the food you'd prepared for him until he spots the little flower-shaped strawberries you'd cut for him - something he'd done for you once to cheer you up when you were sick. 
"Seeee," you say with a playful nudge as you settle next to him. "I've been learning."
"You have...this looks wonderful, thank you." He leans over to press a delicate kiss to your lips and you mumble a quiet you're welcome against them. The two of you share a rare moment of solitude chatting idly and enjoying each others' company before another busy day at the Palace begins.
SOLOMON:
Eyes you and the food warily. "You trying to poison me again?"
"Dude it was just gone-off milk it wouldn't have killed you. Also that was a whole year ago why are you still holding that against me?"
"Yeah well..." Sniffs it just to be sure then flashes you a playful smile. "I'm just messing. This looks really good - thanks."
Halfway through tucking in: "Y'know I'd offer to return the favour but you'd probably die so I won't bother."
"Yeah please don't," you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. 
"Although....what if you were my breakfast next time? Worth a thought," he mused, tapping his spoon against his bottom lip as you rolled your eyes.
SIMEON:
Oh...this is awkward...
You both are bearing breakfast trays intended for the other, and you both burst into laughter before making your way to his room where you swap trays and tuck in. 
"I can't believe this..."
"We're too in tune with each other," Simeon smiles, sipping at his tea. 
"Yeah, I guess we are." The food was delicious - heavenly even and you found yourself closing your eyes from pleasure while eating it. "This is amazing, Sims."
"Glad you like it," he replied with a grin. "You've made these eggs perfectly."
"I'll have to make them for you more often."
"I'd like that a lot."
Simeon definitely tries feeding you at one point, laughing sweetly at your eagerness to take it from him.
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~ Obey Me! Masterlist ~
~ The Grand Masterlist ~
348 notes · View notes
tinymoon-beam · 3 months
Text
Another thing from the conversations I have with @herbal-quintessence
Mountain is always so quiet and put together...even when he's little but sometimes he breaks down too.
Cw: mountain has a horrible day, crying, food issues, there is a mention of gagging once and actual vomit once, panic, physically lashing out during panic, fainting, middle Swiss at the end being upset
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The day hadn't started well. Mountain was tired, sleep hadn't come easy, nightmares he refused to talk about but Dew had stayed up with him,offering comfort and support as Mountain dropped lower and lower, shaking and sobbing until eventually he drifted off.
But it hadn't been restful and he's still down when they wake up. Dew gets him his juice, rubbing the back of his neck and up into his hair while he sips at it and Swiss chats from where he leans against the counter.
Dew's called off to help Copia and he argues, tries to say he can do it later when Mountain feels better but Sister doesn't give him the option and he's pissed, seething as he kneels beside Mountain and holds his face in his hands.
"Es tut mir leid. Ich muss Papa helfen, aber ich werde so oft wie möglich vorbeischauen." (I'm sorry. I have to help Papa but I'll stop by as often as I can.)
"Ich kann helfen. Ich werde dir nicht im Weg sein..." (I can help. I won't be in your way...)
"Du bist nie im Weg." (You're never in the way.)
"Dewdrop." Sister taps her foot.
"I'm coming!" He snarls. "I'm sorry, pebble. I'll be as fast as I can."
Dew waves Swiss over and he presses a kiss to Mountain's forehead and tells him that he loves him, before stomping out of the room.
Mountain stares at the empty space Dew had just been in for a while, chest feeling like a stone was pressing down on him. He doesn't mean to but he feels abandoned...like maybe if he had been braver about the nightmares and Dew had been able to sleep...maybe then he wouldn't have left.
He peeks over at Swiss with tear blurred eyes. He loves Swiss but like this...so far down it almost feels like he doesn't really know him.
"It's ok, Conejito." He holds his hand out and Mountain thinks he has to take it so he doesn't offend him. "How about breakfast?"
He's not really hungry, his tummy keeps turning and the idea of eating anything makes him whimper but he nods anyway. Swiss leads him to the kitchen, getting him settled at the table.
Phantom wanders in, hair messy from sleep, jammies disheveled. Swiss laughs and picks up him, setting him in the chair across from Mountain.
He doesn't ask what they want, he pours two bowls of cereal and Mountain blinks down at the colorful pieces floating around, his tummy turning even more. He doesn't mind cereal, but Dew usually makes him toast with jam and if he's going to eat cereal it'll be like the kind Cirrus eats. Plain with maybe a few dried berries.
He doesn't like things as sweet as Phantom does but he forces it in his mouth anyway, struggling with each bite.
"Y-you eat slow." Phantom points out.
Mountain flinches and Swiss takes Phantoms hand.
"Bug, remember we don't comment on stuff like that? Mountain eats the way that feels best and safest for him and his body and you do what's best for yours, right?"
They nod, chewing on their lip. "S-sorry."
Swiss kisses the top of his head and Mountain tries to eat faster. His belly aches when he's done but he didn't want to waste it and leave a mess.
"Head out to the den, I'll be there after I clean up."
Phantom races out, nearly running into Mountain in the process. Mountain places himself at the art table by the window and stares outside, sniffling quietly. He wants to be outside, walking around with Dew...
The tv turns on and it's so loud his ears twitch. He digs his nails into his palms and he knows he's not supposed to, Dew would hold his hands and make him stop but he can't help it.
"Zu laut..." (Too loud)
Phantom pays him no mind, plopping themself on the floor and watching the tv.
Mountain balls up a sheet of paper and tosses it at them, trying to get their attention so he can sign, to ask them to turn it down.
They throw it back. "T-throwing isn't n-nice, Mountain!"
"That's right. We don't throw things." Swiss wanders in with two sippy cups and Mountain's ears hang. Swiss hands him the cup but it isn't his, it's Rains and that's ok...they share stuff sometimes but...
He sips it and winces at the sugary flavor that coats his tongue.
Mountain tries to busy himself with drawing a picture for Dew for when he gets back. He picks out all the colors he needs, lining them up on the table above his sheet of paper. He takes his time, working on getting his trees just right, glancing outside to copy the ones that line the front of the Abbey.
Swiss squats beside the table, smiling down at Mountain's picture.
"That looks really good, Mount. Are you making it for Dew?"
He nods, still coloring his leaves. "Dankeschön..." (Thank you)
"He's going to love it."
He smiles a little, feeling a little better as he draws. He sits there for a while, focusing on his paper, poking his tongue out as he tries to get Dew's hair just right.
Phantom bounces over to the table, grabbing a coloring book and sitting beside Mountain. The book knocks Mountain's colors around, sending some rolling to the floor.
Still, it's ok. Phantom hums quietly as they color and Mountain finds it comforting, easier to focus on that than the noise from the tv.
Swiss brings them lunch and again Mountain fights the rolling in his belly. He made turkey sandwiches... but Mountain doesn't like meat when he's down like this. He feels the tears in his eyes and he doesn't want to make Swiss upset by asking for something else but he's not sure he can force this one down.
He takes a tiny bite and immediately gags, spitting it out with tears in his eyes.
"Swiss...."
"Yeah-" He takes in his expression and sets his lunch to the side, moving to mountain quickly. "What's the matter, Conejito?"
His eyes flicker to his sandwich. "I...I can't eat t-this..."
"Oh Mount-"
"I'm sorry! I tried!" He covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut.
Swiss hugs him carefully, moving slow to pull him in. "It's ok, sweetheart. I wasn't even thinking. That's my fault. I'm sorry."
He sniffles, the pit in his belly only getting worse. Swiss doesn't sound angry but he could be, he could think that Mountain is bad and ungrateful...
"Would soup be better? I think we have a veggie one."
He doesn't really want anything but he nods anyway and Swiss moves the sandwich away, kissing the top of Mountain's head before wandering back into the kitchen.
Mountain wipes his face with his sleeves and grabs for one of his pencils, trying to focus on his picture again.
The final straw happens so fast he's not able to even try to stop it. Phantom bumps their cup and the lids not on all the way and the bright red juice spills all over the table.
All over his picture.
He slams his hands against the table, yelling in frustration, shoving the chair back so hard it falls over. Phantom shrieks and Mountain picks a corner and curls up in it.
He was definitely in trouble now. He scared Phantom he-
"What happened?" Swiss runs into the room finding Mountain in the corner with his hands over his ears and Phantom crying at the table.
"S-spilled my j-juice! I didn't m-mean to!"
"Ok, accidents happen. You're both ok, it's just a picture we-"
But it's not just a picture. It's everything. It's the cereal, it's the juice, it's lunch, it's being tired, it's Dew not being here, it's the fact that Swiss would never tell Phantom it's just a picture....
Mountain is supposed to be big about things, even when he's little they've come to expect a certain put together nature, he rarely has any kind of tantrum, easy going and quiet. Sometimes it's easy for them to forget that the earth breaks too sometimes, that maybe they'd expected too much of him when they wouldn't expect it of the other littles.
Swiss quickly soothes Phantom, calms the jolt of fear that had run through them at Mountain's sudden outburst. Once he's sure they are ok he kneels beside Mountain, hand hesitantly reaching out.
He can tell he's far too close to panic, breathing to quickly, too hard too fast.
"Mount, mi amour I need you to breathe with me..."
Mountain slashes at his hand with his claws when Swiss reaches for him again.
"Nein! Geh weg!" (No go away)
"Mountain it's just me-"
"Nein! Ich will dich nicht!" (No I don't want you)
"Sweetheart I don't know what you're saying..."
Mountain gasps, every part of him terrified as he feels everything crawling up from his throat and he gets sick into his lap. It only makes the feelings worse. Now he's made a mess, now he's been mean and-
"Papi...." He cries harder, breaths trapped in his chest and he's scared, kicking out at Swiss when he tries to get closer to help.
"Cariño, está bien. Sólo dame un segundo." (Honey it's ok just give me a second)
He sends Dew text after text after text until he's able to respond.
"Mountain needs you. Now."
Mountain brings his knees up, crying against them, hyperventilating.
"He's coming, baby. He'll be here soon I promise." Swiss isn't sure if Mountain even hears him and if he does he's not sure he understands.
It's not too long before Dew races into the den, Copia close behind him. He runs to Mountain immediately, hitting his knees and pulling him close.
"Ich bin hier. Ich bin genau hier, Baby." (I'm here. I'm right here baby.) He pulls mountain down against his neck.
"I don't know-"
"Out." Dew growls it out. "Everyone get out."
"Dew-"
"Get out, Swiss."
The multi ghoul sighs and tugs Phantom along behind him. Copia lingers a little longer.
"Do either of you need anything, Amore mio?"
Dew shakes his head, carding his fingers through Mountain's hair. "No Papa. Thank you."
"Text me. Anything at all." He glances at the way Mountain tries to get smaller in on himself. "Sarò qui in fretta. Prenditi cura di lui." ( I will be here quickly. Take care of him.)
When it's just the two of them, Dew sighs. He holds Mountain's head against his chest, his hand pressed over his ear that's not pressed to his shirt.
"Atme mit mir, meine Liebe." (Breathe with me, my love)
Mountain grabs Dews hand, squeezing as hard as he can. He's still crying, still struggling to breathe. Dew strokes his hair back, keeps his hands and his words gentle.
He whimpers, a near silent 'Papi' falling from his lips.
"Ich weiß. Ich bin genau hier, es ist ok." (I know. It's ok, I'm right here.)
When Mountain goes limp in his arms Dew moves quickly. He rips the t-shirt so it doesn't press against his neck and he straightens his legs, propping the little ghoul up against his chest.
He squeezes Mountain's hands as he starts to come to, soothing him with a soft voice to keep him calm.
"Papi..."
Dew kisses the top of his head. "Pebble."
He holds him in silence, waiting until Mountain is ready to speak again. He eases him off the floor and coaxes him upstairs. Dew gets the bath ready and gets him out of his dirty clothes.
Mountain curls up with his knees under his chin when he settles in the water.
"Es tut mir leid, Papi." (I'm sorry papi.)
"Warum tut es dir leid, Schätzchen?" (Why are you sorry, sweetheart?)
"Ich bin schlecht..." (Im bad) He sniffles, blinking to try to keep from crying again.
"Sehen Sie mich an. Du warst noch nie schlecht. Hat dir das jemand gesagt?" (Look at me. You have never been bad. Did someone tell you that?)
"Nein..."
Dew washes Mountains hair and gets him out and dressed, getting him comfy in the bed. He clings to Dew, wrapped around him as tight as he can get.
He checks his phone when Mountain falls asleep, not surprised by all the texts from Swiss.
He apologizes, fills Dew in on the day, apologizes, asks if mountain is ok... apologizes...
Dew texts back as fast as he can with one hand, the other running through Mountain's hair.
"He will be ok. Sorry I snapped..."
"All good. I get it."
It's not long after that Swiss quietly knocks on the door and pokes his head in. He's sheepish, almost reserved and Dew holds his arm open to welcome him over.
"S'ok wisp." He kisses the top of his head once he settles against him.
"I ruined today..."
"No you didn't." He runs his fingers over his arm. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"He doesn't like me..." His voice is small, quiet and shakey.
"Mountain loves you, wisp. When he's little he has a really hard time. That's not your fault. He loves you, he always loves you he just gets scared." He takes his hand checking over the scratches. "Did you make sure to clean that?"
He nods. "Yeah." He's quiet for a little while, playing with Dew's ponytail that's pulled to the front over his chest. "Dew?"
"Hm?"
"Are you mad at me? Will...are you gonna trust me with him ever again..."
"I'm not mad at you, Swiss. I was mad at myself. I'm sorry that I made you feel that way, that wasn't right. I'm sorry." He squeezes him. "And of course I will, I have always trusted you. He just had a bad day."
"Can....can I stay here for a little while?"
"As long as you want, wisp." He presses a kiss between his horns. "Te quiero. Lo sabes, ¿verdad?" (I love you. You know that, don't you?)
Swiss smiles, snuggling closer, his fingers lightly resting on Mountain's hand where it's curled in Dew's shirt.
"Sí, lo sé. Yo también te quiero." (Yeah I know. I love you too)
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lulublack90 · 2 months
Text
Prompt 24 - Dinner
@jegulus-microfic January 24 Word count 970
Previous part First part
“Seriously! What the fuck?!” Sirius cried out, all signs of sleepiness gone. 
“Sirius,” Regulus pleaded, not finding it funny anymore. Sirius closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before pointing at his brother.
“You get out of that bed right now.” Regulus, for once, did as he was told and began to clamber out. When Sirius saw that he was only in his underwear, he immediately covered his eyes and said. “No, no. Get back into bed.—Regulus, I mean it. I do not need to see that!”  
It was James’s turn to snicker now, but it soon died in his throat when Sirius turned his icy stare on him. He became very interested in the colour of his sheets. 
Remus cleared his throat, getting Sirius’s attention.
“Why don't we go shower, get some clean clothes on and a coffee in you? Let these two idiots get sorted, and we’ll reconvene for dinner?” He put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius pouted. 
“But Remus—” 
“I know. But I think we’d all be happier if we took a minute and James and Regulus weren’t  in a state of undress, don’t you?” Sirius grimaced. 
“Yeah— You’re right. Wait!” His eyes blew up. “James, please tell me that you’re wearing more than your underwear?!” 
“No, Sirius, he's completely naked,” Regulus cackled, mischief back in his eyes. 
“Reg, why?” James whined. 
Remus put his other hand on Sirius’s shoulder and firmly manoeuvred him towards the door.
“Grimmauld Place. Six O’Clock. Bring Chinese food.” He told them before shoving Sirius out of the room. They could hear him protesting all the way down the stairs and out the front door. 
“Well, that could have gone better,” Regulus said, completely straight-faced. 
“You think?” James croaked back. He ran his fingers through his already mussed-up hair. “Reggie, I think we need to talk about this—us. Before we face Sirius again. Just so we both know what’s going on.” He felt himself blushing. Regulus luckily didn’t notice as he got out of bed and began dressing from the neat pile of carefully folded clothes he’d left on James’s dresser. James waited for Regulus to finish, carefully turning his head away to give him privacy.
He went over to the dresser and pulled out some clean clothes. He dumped them on the bed and began dressing. Only realising Regulus had been staring at him the entire time as he went to change his underwear. 
“Do you mind?” He asked pointedly.
“Not even a little bit.” Regulus grinned. “Need to make sure I like the whole package.” He waggled his eyebrows, and James realised how much like his brother Regulus looked at that moment. 
He turned his back on Regulus and quickly removed yesterday's pants. In the short time he had no underwear on, Regulus had darted across the room and grabbed his arse. He jumped in the air and squealed in shock. Regulus’s head squeezed under his arm so he could look down. “Reg, what the actual?!” Regulus pulled his head free and wrapped his arms around James’s waist. He reached up on his tiptoes. His body pressed firmly into James’s back. 
“10/10,” He whispered into James’s ear before nipping the lobe and disappearing out of the room, leaving James standing there holding his clean pants in his hand, gobsmacked. 
He wasn’t sure where Regulus had gone. So, when he was fully dressed, he went downstairs. 
He was sat at the kitchen table munching on a pile of toast. James sat opposite him. Regulus pushed a steaming cup of tea across the table at him. James beamed at the little offering. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Regulus make anyone anything, let alone a cup of tea. He was honoured. 
They sat in comfortable silence while they munched through the stack of toast. James had grabbed a jar of jam to spread on if they wanted to with the butter. 
Once they’d finished their breakfast, even if it was basically lunchtime, James tidied away their things and sat back down. 
“So,” He said, clearing his throat. “I think we need to talk,” It felt so awkward. He didn’t know how to do this. Regulus saved him. 
“The way I see it is. I like you. I’m guessing you like me? Do you want to see if this goes anywhere?” James nodded and grinned. 
“Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.” 
“What, only nice?” Regulus raises an eyebrow at him.
“Really nice?” James offered. Regulus huffs a laugh through his nose. 
“Yeah, okay, really nice.” His expression changes, “We still have some time before we’re expected at Grimmauld. Wanna watch a film?” Regulus didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he went to the living room and turned the TV on. James joined him, not even thinking about it. 
He sat down next to Regulus on the sofa, and Regulus snuggled into his side. It felt so natural as if they’d been doing it for years. At some point, his hand ended up in Regulus’s hair, his fingers carded through the curls. Regulus let out soft hums, like a cat, now and again. 
The stroking turned to touching, and before he knew it, Regulus was straddling his lap, and they were kissing, movie forgotten. 
Too soon, the reminder James had set sounded, and they were forced to head out. 
Thirty minutes later, they had two bulging bags of steaming takeaway and were standing outside number twelve Grimmauld Place.   
James closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his hand hovered over the doorknob.
“Reg,” He said quietly. “Please don’t rile him up.” Regulus winked at him before pushing him aside and opening the door. James rolled his eyes and sighed before walking over the threshold, praying that just once, the Black brothers wouldn’t go out of their way to annoy each other. 
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