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lukesvangelista · 2 days

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𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

in which luke longs for the one person who understands him.

warnings; sad luke, crying luke, weddings, prom

part one here

part two here

Luke stood at the edge of the reception hall, watching the newlyweds glide across the dance floor. The bride, radiant in her white gown, laughed as Matt, Luke's cousin and her husband, spun her around, their joy infectious. The room was filled with the soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle hum of conversation, but Luke's mind was far away, lost in the memories of the relationship the two of you once shared. Jack and Quinn were talking beside him, reminiscing on the childhood memories the three of them shared with Matt, but Luke could've cared less. Instead, he zoned in on the couple with longing eyes, his face expressionless - that should've been him twirling you around on that dance floor.

It had been nine months since he and you had parted ways, but it felt like a lifetime. The two of you had met in high school, two awkward teenagers drawn together by a shared love of sports, music, and movies, and a mutual disdain for the superficiality of your guys' chemistry teacher. His first dance with you had been in your living room, the two of you clumsily stepping on each other’s toes to a scratchy vinyl record your father had given to you. The two of you shared so much laughter that day, the sound mingling with the music. Luke didn't think he was capable of laughing that much, but somehow, you had brought it out of him. In that moment, Luke had thought that your relationship would last forever.

As Matt and Amelie continued their dance, Luke remembered the night he had taken you to prom. You guys had spent weeks preparing. You agonized over your dress to the point where Ellen had offered to fix it up however you wanted to. She spent a week sewing this, and hemming that, but that dress couldn't have been more beautiful. It complimented you perfectly, the red satin fabric allowing your eyes to radiate. You laughed as Luke fumbled with the corsage during pictures. At the time, he didn't appreciate it, but now, he would give anything to hear your laugh again. When the two of you had finally arrived, the gym had been transformed into a magical wonderland, complete with twinkling lights and a live band. You guys had danced until your feet were sore, holding each other close as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Luke felt a lump in his throat form as he continued to watch the first dance. There was an empty seat beside him, designated for another one of his cousin's who couldn't make it, but Luke couldn't help but feel like it was for you. It was just another reminder that you weren't with him, but you should've been. All he wanted was to look away, but it's like he was frozen. It felt like a god damn punishment. And then, as if things couldn't get any worse, he realized what song they were dancing to - 'Like Real People Do'.

No, no, no. This was your guys' song.

Tears sprang into Luke's hazel eyes immediately, and he jumped up from his seat to excuse himself. Quinn and Jack looked at their little brother like he was crazy, but Luke muttered some half-ass excuse about having to use the bathroom before walking out of the reception hall and outside the building.

As soon as he was outside, Luke tightly gripped the red brick of the building. He felt that if he didn't, he would've collapsed right then and there. He tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself down, but it felt as though nothing was working. So, he whipped out his phone and opened his contacts.

As he hovered over your contact, Luke tried to convince himself that it was because he wasn't in a clear state of mind. Maybe he could even blame it on the drinks that Jack had snuck over to him earlier in the evening. But deep down, Luke knew that wasn't true. He missed you, and maybe, just maybe, his longing for you would decrease if he heard your voice again. The night was quiet, which only seemed to amplify his thoughts. He missed you - every laugh, every conversation, every moment the two of you had shared. He missed you more than he could bear.

But the longer his fingers hovered over your contact, the more hesitant he became. The two of you had broken up three months ago. The last time he had seen you was the night (or morning, he didn't even know) you showed up to his apartment, where he was sleeping with another girl and practically yelled at you for coming to see him. And it was the night that you needed him most. You were missing your dad needed comfort. That was it. He had royally fucked up.

Was this a good idea? Would you even want to hear from him?

Doubts crowded Luke's mind, but the ache in his heart overpowered him. He took a deep breath and pressed call.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Four times, five times, six times.

Luke was about to hang up when the dial tone went away. Static ensued and then he heard exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Hello?" Your voice was soft, cautious.

Luke let out a whimper, a tear falling from his eye, "Y/N/N, hi. It's Luke."

There was a pause, then, "Luke. Hi. It's been awhile."

"Yeah, it has. I-" he struggled to find the right words, "I know it's sudden, but I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you, Y/N."

The line was silent for a moment, and Luke feared that you might've hung up. But then you spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "Why'd you call, Luke?"

He let a sob ring from his lips, his tone heavy, "Matt got married today, and him and Amelie just looked so happy. And I looked at them and it was like I couldn't even see them, I just saw us," another sob rang out, "I just... whenever I looked at you, Y/N, I saw my future. I would've married you if I had the chance." he admitted.

The line went silent again, this time for even longer than the last. Boy, did that scare Luke. Had he said too much too soon? He wouldn't be surprised if he did - his brothers had always told him that that was his fatal flaw. Thirty seconds had passed before he spoke up again, pure desperation evident in his voice, "Y/N/N?"

He heard you sniffle over the line. A few more seconds of silence followed before you spoke, your voice trembling a little more than before, "I... I miss you too, Luke. I think about you a lot."

Relief washed over him, but it was quickly followed by regret, "I messed up, Y/N. Remember that night when you called me an asshole? It's all I've thought about since that night. You needed me and I kicked you out and..." Luke had to pause as he felt his chest tighten. His breaths were ragged and it felt as though he couldn't catch his breath.

"Luke? Luke, are you okay?" you asked him, concern evident in your tone.

Luke was able to compose himself just enough to keep talking as he heard your voice, "I was an asshole. I can't believe it's taken me three months to admit it, but I was the asshole, and I am so fucking sorry, Y/N."

You took a shallow breath on the other end of the phone, your own eyes welling with tears.

Luke continued, "Listen, I don't know if he can ever go back to what we had, but I just needed you to know how much I miss you."

You sighed softly, tears of your own now slipping from your eyes, "That was hard for me, Luke. It hurt. But hearing you say that means a lot. And I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I didn't fuck up, too. We both made mistakes, and here we are." you faked a laugh.

Without thinking, Luke whispered through the phone, "Can we meet?" There was a lace of hope in his words as he spoke. Maybe it was a little bit of a facade, just to trick him into thinking he had more of a chance than he actually did, "Just to talk. Maybe start over, even if it's just as friends."

There was a long pause, and if it was as if Luke could almost hear you weighing the decision through the phone. It felt like hours had passed before you spoke again, your voice gentle, "Luke... it's not that simple. I miss you - more than you know - but I think that we both need to heal and move forward, even if it's hard."

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"It's pathetic really, how much I still hope it's you and me in the end."

"Take care of yourself, Luke," you said, "Goodnight."

Luke wiped the tears from his cheeks, feeling the weight of your words. As you hung up, though, he felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. He knew you were right - you both needed to move on, to heal. But at least for tonight, he had the comfort of hearing your voice, a small connection to the woman he had loved and lost.

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auteurdelabre · 14 hours

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So Much to Lose Part 13 : Family Dinner

words: 7.5k

story rating: 18+

tags: emotional, sexual tension, idiots in love

a/n: two days ahead of schedule! I had to add another chapter in before 'coffee flavored kisses' chapter so it makes dramaturgically (please get that reference). I hope you enjoy, its one of my favorite scenes I've written for this story.

masterlist

Chapter 13: Family Dinner

"Are you even listening to me?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Jennifer leans against your counter. She's wearing a purple sweater dress today, her own creation. She's holding a coffee and giving you a small smirk.

"Sorry, what?"

"You're distracted today," Jennifer muses.

The two of you are in your kitchen this morning, the early morning sun shining through your windows. It melted a lot of the snow, allowing bits of green to poke through.

Jennifer saw you returning from the market with all the baking supplies you'd need. She'd commented that she wished she could bake as well as you and so of course you'd offered to teach her.

She is so willing to spend her time teaching you to shoot, to take care of you, of course you wanted to pay her back in some small way. But ever since she crossed the threshold this morning with two coffees in hand chattering away about the town meeting you've felt this deep pit in your stomach.

Why did he do that? Why did you let him? Why did you want him to do more? You certainly hadn’t shied from his touch; you’d begged him to make you come right there. Your cheeks flame at the memory, thinking back to that evening.

You’d given Jennifer some bullshit excuse about a headache after she found you moments after you staggered out of the closet. Then you’d jogged home, your heart racing as quickly as your mind.

"Just haven't made a cake in a long time," you lie, turning away from her as you mix the batter. "Guess I'm just super focused on it."

The truth is you're completely distracted today. You have been ever since the town meeting with Joel's hand down your pants and his voice in your ear commanding you to come. You're ashamed to admit that since that night you've been bringing yourself off to the memory.

Are you actually attracted to asshole? Or is it just that he makes the world feel safe? That he can make your brain turn off and make it all go quiet?

There's also a humiliation there. "You think I didn't hear you on patrols?"

You force the thought from your mind. You don't need to think about that right now. You turn your attention back to your friend who is mixing her own chocolate batter.

"I was asking why you're making a cake of all things?" Jennifer says, frowning at the lumpy contents of her bowl. "You making it for Luke?"

She says it in a singsong voice, grinning toothily at you.

"No," you say with a smirk. "Just making it for practice."

Luke is another fly in the ointment as it were. While Joel's personality is abrasive at best, Luke is tender and sweet and patient. When he talks to you he really seems like he cares to know your opinion. Unlike a certain Mister Miller.

"Maybe I'll give this one to Joel," Jennifer muses, as if reading your thoughts. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach after all."

You give her a weak smile.

While you're ashamed that Joel's treatment of you is turning you on more than you want to admit, you're more ashamed that the woman in front of you is supposed to be your friend, your best friend, and you're keeping this all from her.

It wouldn't matter as much if she didn't like Joel. You could excuse your lack of sharing on being a private person. But you know that Jennifer likes Joel and keeping this from her is dishonest. But you're also a coward because you can't find the words to tell her.

"How was shooting practice with Luke?"

"Good," you tell her honestly, feeling a blush overtake your cheeks. "I shot four cans from a pretty fair distance."

"That's amazing!" Jennifer wraps you in a hug from behind. "See I knew you just needed a little practice!"

You grin shyly, feeling pleased and pretty damn proud of yourself.

"So did you like being with Luke alone?" Jennifer says casually as you set the temperature on the stove. There's something about the way she says it that gives you pause.

When you look up she's grinning into her bowl, a sneaky little grin just for herself. The answer is there before you even ask the question.

"You planned that?"

You stare at her open-mouthed. Jennifer shrugs at you, as if she is not the most devious person in the room.

"I mean I did need to help with textiles but I didn't need to miss practice." She winks at you. "And I may just get called away at the last minute next week too."

"Jennifer!"

The two of you dissolve into laughter, the rest of the morning bathed in shades of pink. Jennifer has that uncanny ability to bring color into every room.

A short while later you remove the dual cakes from the oven, praising Jennifer on hers. With your coaching her cake is going to be edible (which is more than you can say for her past baking ventures).

"Okay these need to cool before we ice them."

"Good, its lunch let's go get something."

You follow her out your front door, both of you pulling on your jackets as Jennifer chats on about how the textile group has needed her for the occasional shift.

"I don't mind though," she says tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder. "I love seeing all the fabric."

You wish that you could listen to Jennifer, to give all of your attention to her. But it's just not possible at this point, your mind is elsewhere.

It's back in that room with Joel.

Tommy and Maria are eating when you and Jennifer arrive to the dining hall. They wave you over with a smile and the two of you bring your trays to their table, joining them.

Maria is wearing Douglas across her chest and he is milk drunk, passed out and grunting slightly in his sleep.

"Hi you two."

Maria looks exhausted with dark hollows under her eyes. But she smiles anyway, kissing Douglas's forehead and turning to you.

"How have you been?"

"Good how about you?"

"Tired," she smiles weakly. "Oh, I meant to ask if there was any chance you'd be willing to make some more flowers for us? I don't mean to be selfish but I'd just love Douglas to have some bright yellow ones in his room."

"Of course!" You're delighted that you can do something to help your friend. "I'd love to, I'll work on it this weekend."

Maria gives your upper arm a gentle squeeze of thanks, whispering to Douglas that the nice lady was going to make his room beautiful.

"Seems we're all gonna be working hard this weekend," Tommy muses over his coffee. "Gotta start getting some of the holiday stuff out of storage at our place."

You wrinkle your nose in surprise.

"Christmas isn't for over a month."

"Yeah but it takes a lot to put on a holiday party for the town," Tommy says through a bite of salad as if you should know this already.

"Tommy this'll be her first one," Maria reminds him.

"Oh shit that's right," Tommy nods just as Jennifer retakes her place across from you. Tommy motions to her with his fork.

"Jenny knows all about it."

"What do I know all about?"

"The yearly holiday party."

Jennifer immediately grins enthusiastically.

"My favorite event of the year. The whole town comes out, everyone brings food, there's a band, dancing, booze, presents... It's always so much fun and goes until the next morning usually."

"We decorate the big barn by the stables," Tommy continues and you see the genuine joy in his eyes, like thirty years have been stripped away and he's just a sweet, boy on Christmas morning. "It's a big job, but with enough volunteers it goes pretty smooth."

"We'll help you," Jennifer says out of nowhere before looking at you. "Right?"

The thing you love most about Jennifer is also the thing that drives you the most insane. She's always wanting to help people, and that would be fine if she didn't try to rope you in with her.

Even if you didn't want to volunteer there's no possible way that you can say no now. Tommy is glancing over at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrows, Maria matching him.

"Yeah of course. What do you need done?"

"Well we got music, set up and tear down taken care of, that's usually the hard stuff," Tommy says, rubbing his beard absently as he looks off in the middle distance. Then he snaps, remembering. "How about decorations?"

"Sure," Jennifer nods. "I love decorating, plus I worked in textiles so I have access to fabric and stuff."

"Great," Tommy says looking overjoyed. "Joel'll be happy to have the help."

"Joel?""

Both you and Jennifer blurt the name out at the same time, though for very different reasons.

"Yeah Joel is in charge of cutting down and decorating the tree this year. Guy who normally does it broke his leg last week."

"Decorating a tree doesn't really sound like a three person job," you reason, pushing your carrot stick around your plate.

"You haven't seen how big the tree is," Tommy grins. "Joel's gonna get a big one, at least twelve feet. Plus there's hanging the lights around the barn and all that stuff."

"Leave it to us, Tommy."

Jennifer is fucking beaming as she goes back to her lunch, Maria and Tommy are exchanging smiles, but all you can do is hold in the nerves that begin in your stomach.

Tommy and Maria depart shortly thereafter with the latter giving you a squeeze to your shoulder before she leaves.

"I can't believe it, more chances to be alone with Joel," Jennifer giggles.

"I'll be sure to give you two a lot of alone time," you snark. "Take a page from your book."

The last thing you want is to be witness to more of them flirting, especially when thoughts of Joel have you feeling so churned up.

Jennifer laughs, about to reply to you when you both hear her name being called. An older woman with spiky grey hair is standing by the entrance to the hall and signalling for Jennifer to come over. Jennifer groans, muttering under her breath so only you can hear.

"I know that look. She needs help with something at the shop,” Jennifer rolls her eyes as she stands. "Any chance you could ice my cake? I'll pick it up later if that's okay?"

"Uh, I might be out for a walk," you say hurriedly. "How about I just bring it over to you later?"

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"You're a peach!" Jennifer gives your hand a squeeze before excusing herself to join the woman standing expectantly at the dining room doors.

You watch after your friend, musing that it’s so like Jennifer to want to help everyone. But now that you know why she keeps her days so busy your heart aches for her. How can you think of being attracted to Joel when you know your friend likes him? A friend that's done so much for you.

Joel Miller isn't worth this anxiety or stress. It's not like he even enjoys your company. You're fairly certain he just gets off on ordering you around. You need to push him from your mind.

You'll go to dinner tonight, you'll do patrols with him, but you'll keep it professional. You are going to help Jennifer get with Joel. The decision is made. It's the least you can do for a woman who has been through so much.

Your name is called, breaking you from your thoughts. You glance over your shoulder to see Arthur and Penny headed in your direction with trays.

"I thought that was you," Arthur says with a grin. "Mind if we join you?"

"Please do."

The two of them sit shoulder to shoulder across from you. They fold their hands, muttering a quiet prayer for grace and then start digging in. You watch them, amused at how mis-matched a pair they are.

"So whaddya you do around here sweet pea?" Penny asks through a bite of toast. Up this close you notice her front left tooth is cracked.

"I do patrols," you say. She curls her lip at you, perplexed.

"Whassat?"

"It's when groups of us that take turns going outside the walls to make sure infected and Raiders don't get in or do damage to the dam." You pause hoping you've explained it decently. "

Penny gives a low whistle. "Dayum, that seems like an awful job. I'd rather clean up garbage any day."

“It's pretty much just been carrying a gun and riding a horse so far for me."

And mutual pleasure from my nemesis.

"I don't envy ya," Penny says shaking her head and dropping back to her lunch.

You don't know what to say to that. You watch them eat for a moment, intending on leaving them to it when Arthur starts talking.

"I wanted to ask you, when did you want to get together for the portrait? I'd love to get back into it and I know I promised you, so I've set up my table by the window and Maria's given me some paper and pencils."

"She did? That's great."

You haven't been by to see Maria since the meeting and her anxious looking face keeps floating back into your mind. You know that she must be feeling overwhelmed with everything on top of Douglas.

"She's a sweet lady," Penny observes. "Gotta bad case a' baby blues though."

You stiffen.

"Why do you say that?"

"Could see it the second I met her," Penny says absently drinking her tea. Her large eyes scan the room, obviously still nervous at the crowds. "Mothers know these things."

"You have children?"

You don't miss the look of anguish that touches both their features. Before she speaks you know what she'll say.

"Used to."

Arthur is somber when Penny goes quiet, as if behind his pale eyes, his mind is concocting images of the face of the nameless child. Feeling guilty and uncomfortable you want to change the topic, your brain clinging the first thing that comes to your mind. Which happens to be the previous topic.

"Arthur, I know I asked you about portraits, but I'm actually wondering if I could trade in that favor for a different one."

Arthur shoots you a watery grin.

"Lay it on me."

///

You take a look at yourself in the mirror over your dresser that evening. It's faded, warped from age and damp. But it does the job and it reflects your tired eyes and your simple clothing.

You blink at yourself before pulling on a new crimson-colored sweater, one of several that Jennifer gave you a few weeks ago claiming they would go wonderfully with your skin tone.

You don't know why you're so nervous as you head to Rancher Street with the cake in your hands. You've been invited for dinner, it's sure to be a pleasant night. The cake wobbles in your nervous grip, the frosting gleaming in the fading sunlight.

When the house comes into view you see Joel sail by in the window, going from one end to the other, reading something. His gaze is fixed, his head tilted to the page. From here you see his strong profile, the curve of his nose, and the pout of his lips.

Fuck. Don't think about his lips.

You swallow nervously as you make your way up the creaking porch steps. You take a full moment to stare at the door, looking at the chipped paint and the swept porch deck.

It's just a dinner. Ellie will be there. I'll be fine.

You knock gingerly with your free hand, shifting from one foot to the next as you hear footsteps approach.

Joel opens the door sharply, brows furrowed before he realizes it's you. His dark eyes widen slightly, scanning you and the cake. Immediately your heart begins to pound in your chest, your cheeks heating the longer his eyes linger on your face.

He's dressed as he always is, flannel and jeans. His hair is tousled, as if he's been running his fingers through it. You look at Joel's wool socks, strangely fascinated. They're a deep grey, worn and thick, they're so human. He stares at you, looking confused and a little surprised.

"Can I help you?"

His voice comes rumbling from his chest, deep and measured. You can't stop looking at his neck, noticing the sharp of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth. It has you feeling strangely distracted.

You lick your lips nervously, inhaling quietly when his gaze drops to your mouth and then back again.

"Uh... I'm here for dinner," you say breathlessly. "I brought the cake."

He peers at you, confusion clear in his expression.

"Dinner?"

"Uh, yeah..." Your neck is starting to heat because Joel is crossing his arms over his chest, tilting slightly against the door frame and he doesn't look like he has any idea of what you're talking about.

"Didn't you invite me to dinner tonight?"

He shakes his head slowly.

"But Ellie sa-" you start before slamming your lips together as realization belatedly dawns in your features.

Ellie wanted you for dinner. Ellie realized that you'd never stay if you thought Joel didn't expressly invite you.

Ellie played you.

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding," you say, feeling humiliated as Joel continues to stand there staring at you.

You thrust the cake towards him, your eyes on the ground.

"I made this for Ellie," you tell his socks. "Could you just give it to her?"

Joel takes the cake from you, his fingertips trailing over yours as he does. You swallow again, feeling the little bolts of lightning that start at his touch. You watch as Joel quietly prepares to close the door, his eyes now on the ground.

You hear the twist of the knob and can only make a little scoffing noise in the back of your throat. What had you been thinking? Had you really been so stupid as to think Joel Miller invited you over for dinner when he can barely stand you?

"Hey," he begins, but you're already starting to move down the porch, humiliation coming off of you in waves.

You both hear your name and your head jerks up to see Ellie coming up the walkway to the house, her arms laden down with bags. She sees you at the door and smiles broadly before she sees you heading away from the porch.

"Where are you going?"

"Ellie, I don't really know why I'm here."

Ellie's immediately deflates, her good spirits dimmed.

"I wanted you to have dinner with us."

It's impossibly sweet of Ellie to want to spend time with you, but is Joel a necessary part of the equation?

"Why did you tell me Joel invited me to join you both for dinner?"

"Because I knew if I didn't you wouldn't come."

Ellie's gaze sails away from you and over to Joel who stands with his shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed and brow raised. He looks unimpressed with the pair of you. Ellie gives a grunt, heading towards him with a frown.

"I invited her for dinner."

"Without askin' me first."

"Last time I checked it's my house too." Ellie shifts the bags in her hands. "I brought dinner and she brought dessert."

"Fine by me. I'll give you two some space."

Joel goes to retrieve his jacket from the hook by the door but Ellie makes a disapproving noise.

"No, you have to stay too."

Joel gives an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"Ellie what is this?"

Ellie looks like she's halfway between a cry and a shout. She doesn't answer until he reaches for his jacket again.

"It's my fucking birthday, okay?"

Joel goes still, his large eyes looking at her with confusion. A quiet moment passes between the two of them.

"Your birthday?"

"Yes."

There's a lot of confusion now on your end. The way they act you'd assumed they must have known each other for most of Ellie's life. But that can't be the case if her birthday is such a shock to him.

"I didn't know."

"Obviously. Now will you stop being a grumpy asshole so my friend can have dinner with us?"

Joel looks appropriately admonished, a hand sliding to the back of his pinking neck. He's about to speak but you cut in.

"Ellie this is a family thing," you try to appeal. "Here, take the cake and you two enjoy."

You go to hand her the cake but she shakes her head resolutely as she moves around Joel.

"Both of you."

With that she disappears inside leaving you and Joel on the porch in tense silence. He sighs quietly before shifting his eyes to your face.

"C'mon in then, I guess."

You follow the two of them into the kitchen, citing that you need to put the cake in the fridge just in case. It's been a long time since you made butter cream icing and you don't want it melting.

You set it amongst the array of vegetables and water bottles inside the ice box. Ellie grabs some plates and utensils while Joel stands watching you both.

"Grab the lemonade man," Ellie calls over her shoulder at him. You follow her into the other room, watching as she sets the table and indicates for you to take the nearest chair.

“Joel look what they're serving tonight!" Ellie laughs, holding up the huge plate full of ravioli from the dining hall. Joel gives a droll chuckle.

"My favorite."

Joel and Ellie exchange a secret smile, but not one that feels exclusionary. More just sweet to witness. Ellie scoops the pasta onto the plates and Joel fills up the glasses and the three of you take your seats and start eating.

You focus all your attention on the ravioli on your plate, taking small nibbles as your stomach is roiling.

You feel eyes on the side of your face and glance over to see Joel's eyes skimming back to his plate. He looks so sullen, his jaw clenching with every bite. Your eyes drift to the other side of the table to see Ellie. She's eating her pasta with gusto but you can see the defeated look in her face.

Some birthday dinner this turned out to be.

Joel sits on one end of the table looking uncomfortable, Ellie sits on the other end totally oblivious and you're in the middle of both with your eyes stuck on your dinner. You need to break this silence.

"So how old are you turning?"

"Fifteen," Ellie replies through a mouthful of ravioli.

"Same age I was when everything happened," you muse.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Maybe that's why we get along so well. I haven't matured past fifteen."

You think you hear a small huff of amusement from Joel's direction but that might just be wishful thinking. The three of you eat your pasta in comfortable silence before Ellie turns her attention on you.

"Were you shooting yesterday? I thought I saw you and that tall guy."

Joel's attention drifts to you; you can feel it boring into the side of your face.

"Yeah," you answer quietly. "Our friend Je-“ you catch yourself, "our other friend had to work. Normally it’s the three of us.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m better than when I started,” you smile, motioning to Joel with your fork. “But you can ask Joel, that’s not saying much.”

You dart a glance to see Joel smirking into his dinner. Ellie laughs through a mouthful of ravioli, before she shines her attention over your way.

“Did you hear about that party next month? Tommy was talking about it today.”

Who could forget the holiday party? The continued forced proximity with a man you just can’t quite figure out.

“My friend volunteered us for decorating,” you say, ignoring the way Joel’s motions still out the corner of your eye. “So I guess we better show up. Plus I’ve never been to one before so I’m curious.”

“We never had shit back like this in the QZ,” Ellie tilts back in her chair. “Closest we got is a pair of socks wrapped up with a bow. Fucking pathetic.”

“Language.”

Ellie rolls her eyes at Joel before looking back at you. “I hope this one is better than that.”

“You might need a dress if you go.”

The two of you glance over at Joel gulping back some of his lemonade. When he sees your dual questioning looks he raises his eyebrows, silently asking what?

Ellie stares at Joel as if she's been struck across the face. "The fuck would I wear a dress for?"

"In the south women dressed up for everything," Joel tells Ellie as he passes her the salad. "Just how things were done. My grammie wore a dress and pearls to go shoppin' in."

You can't help but discreetly glance down at your worn jeans and oversized sweater, suddenly seeing the snags and uneven loops in material. Not exactly dressed up. But you don't own nice, pretty clothes me up of soft feminine fabric. You have denim and leather and wool. Hard, fierce materials for the elements.

"I hate dresses," Ellie frowns. "And things have changed since your day old man."

"You little shit."

You smile into your pasta. The silence is back over the table and you feel the need to fill it, despite it being a comfortable one. Emboldened by the relaxed mood in all people at the table you shift your question to Joel.

"Are you going?" You ask casually, your attention on your meal. You hate how the flutter has begun in your chest.

"I better. I volunteered to help with it."

"I figured you might have just been doing it for Tommy," you shrug. "Can't say I picture you at some big event with dinner and dancing."

"Joel dancing?" Ellie sputters a laugh into her glass of water.

Joel arches a dark brow at Ellie.

"Just can't picture it," she says giggling.

"You know I wasn't born an old man," Joel says amused, turning his attention back to his dinner. "Did plenty of dancin’ in my day."

"Really?"

"S'half the reason Sarah was born," he says with a small smirk before he realizes what he's said.

The table grows quiet as his smile vanishes. Ellie notes the tension, shovelling pasta into her mouth. You feel a lurch in your stomach at Joel's queasy expression. As if you'd dug a blade down his sternum and exposed his still beating heart to the world.

It makes you speak without thinking, desperate to show him he's safe to share that side to him. Desperate to let him know he's not alone.

"My sister loved to dance," you offer up, feeling the dual gazes of the people at the table.

"My sister was in ballet but she'd uh, she'd do this stupid dance called the Macarena." You laugh a bit to yourself as you recall it. "It was really popular, was on the radio all the time and my dad hated it. I think that's why she kept doing it. He'd act all irritated but he'd always end up laughing." You smile at the memory. "She could always make people laugh."

Ellie is smiling broadly, fascinated by your stories of this time before and there’s something so comforting, so normal in talking about your sister like this. Like the world isn’t ended and ugly, like she could come walking through the front door right now.

"One time my dad waited until we were in the backyard and then he turned the hose on her when she started singing and doing it,” you say, laughing bubbling forth from you. Ellie joins in, amusement painted in her expression.

Joel is listening with a gentle curl of his mouth. Ellie turns her attention over to him.

"You ever do the Macaroni dance, Joel?"

"Macarena," Joel corrects. "And fuck no, I didn't."

His horrified expression and just hearing the term Macarena in his husky drawl has you laughing loudly, a bright, noisy thing that bursts from you. It brings Ellie along with it, giggling and snorting as Joel rolls his eyes, his mouth twitching as if he's unable to keep the smirk from spreading over his features.

The laughter ebbs comfortably and you shoot Joel a grateful look.

"It's nice to remember the good times."

The smile he gives you in return is soft and sweet.

"Yeah. It is."

His gentleness makes your chest ache in a way you don't quite understand. It makes you feel compelled to change the topic. You shift your attention over to Ellie who is watching you both with a small curve of the corner of her mouth.

"Uh, so, I didn't know it was your birthday but I guess I actually got you a gift,” you tell her. “If you want it and Joel's okay with it."

Joel looks on edge, brow raised in confusion. Ellie wears a twin expression, but more relaxed.

"Really?"

She looks around you for a box or wrapped item.

"I, uh, found someone to do your tattoo to cover up your scar."

Immediately the room is silent and Ellie’s hand unconsciously places itself on her forearm, hidden under her striped sleeve. Your eyes ping pong between the two of them, concerned you’ve done something wrong. Joel is quiet, his dark eyes surveying your face as if he doesn't know what to make of you.

"If you wanted it," you amend.

"Are you serious?" Ellie is wide-eyed.

"Yeah it's this new guy, Arthur. He just came to town with his wife. He does stick and poke tattoos and he owes me one so..." You trail off before forcing yourself to finish. "If you wanna see his work I'll introduce you to his wife. She's covered in them and they're gorgeous."

Joel is still quiet and you're not sure what to make of the silence. You frown over at him, grimacing slightly.

"Is that okay, Joel?"

Joel tilts back, one forearm lying casually on the table, the other resting on the back of his chair.

"I'll wanna meet this guy. Make sure he's trustworthy."

"Of course."

"If he is... Well, it's not my body not my choice. But if you want my opinion Ellie, I'd say it's a damn fine idea."

Relief blooms in your face as Ellie gives a squeak of delight. Joel is still looking at you though, face relaxed.

Ellie is still staring at you a beat before whipping her gaze to Joel. The two of them share a private grin before Ellie turns round to look back at you.

"Can we go tonight?"

You laugh. "No, but I can see if there's room in his schedule later this week. If you come to lunch in the dining hall tomorrow his wife might be there."

"Awesome!"

You smile back at her, feeling a familiar tug under your ribs every time you're happy. A measure of guilt mixed with joy. It makes your eyes wet and you push back from the table needing a moment to breathe.

"I'll go grab your cake," you mutter, striding from the room. You hear the two of them chatting quietly behind you as you pull the cake from the fridge.

You search the drawers for three plates and a knife, sniffling slightly. All you can think of is this bubbling joy and how she's not here to see it, to feel it, to live it too.

You take a moment to stare at the pale pink cake. The icing on it is lumpier than you would have liked, but you'd been rushed for time. You look at the sliced strawberries and delicate whirls and you frown.

This cake couldn't be less Ellie. Ellie is dark berries and bittersweet chocolate. She's not strawberries and pale pink icing. You idly wonder why you made this specific one for her today.

You know why.

You cut into the cake to shut up the voice, noting how dense it ended up being with each pass of the blade. You cut it into several pieces, wiping at your eyes with the back of your sleeve with each slice.

You feel a presence behind you; footsteps slow as they make their way next to you. Joel deposits the empty dinner dishes into the sink with a light clatter. You inhale his clean laundry and wood shavings scent, feeling dizzy. You wait for him to leave, but he’s standing there beside you, his frame sturdy. You drag your eyes up his chest to his face.

"That was kind of you, doin' that for Ellie."

"Oh, I'm not doing anything," you say with a shy lift of one shoulder. "Just the organizer."

Joel nods, tongue lodged in the side of his cheek as he stares at you thoughtfully. You let your hair fall in front of your face, worried he'll see the sheen to your eyes. It effectively blocks him out as you plate one of the cake pieces.

"She's a good kid," you offer, knife gliding over the dish. "She deserves good things."

"She does."

"Arthur is really nice," you tell him, hoping that if you continue to distract yourself by talking that your tears won't spill down your cheeks. "And I know he'd be discreet."

"S'good."

"So if you want to-"

You break off when you feel Joel's fingers sliding through your hair, moving it over your left shoulder so he can peer into your face. His fingers slip down your shoulder blade before leaving your body. You track each movement, body tingling.

"You okay?

You blink quickly, pulse jumping. His eyes hold nothing but concern in their depths, confusing you.

"Yep. I'm fine."

He cocks his head slightly, one hand braced against the counter.

"And the truth?"

You swallow, plating the remaining slices of cake.

"Do you ever feel guilty that you're alive and others aren't? Like... Every time I feel a little bit happy it's like its wrong."

Joel nods but he doesn't offer more than that. You're thankful because you're not sure any words could have brought a modicum of comfort anyway.

You scrub at your eyes with the back of your sleeve before taking a page from Jennifer’s book; forcing a wobbly smile onto your face and motioning to the cake.

“So are we singing Happy Birthday?”

“Not a fuckin’ chance.”

You grin at him, handing him his slice of cake and following him back into the dining room. Ellie there, looking excitedly to you as you slide her cake in front of her. She plucks the strawberry off the top, popping it into her mouth.

You take your lemonade glass and raise it.

"To Ellie on her birthday," you say with a grin. "May your coming year be full of adventure."

Ellie smiles with a shy tilt of her face into her shoulder. You're surprised when you see Joel raise his own glass.

"And less joke books."

Ellie sputters a laugh at this, head back her shoulders shaking. Joel chuckles at her and once again you feel like you're witnessing something sweet without being left out. Like they're letting you peek into their secret selves.

“So was this an okay birthday dinner?” you ask.

“My first real one,” Ellie shrugs. “So it’s a good one for me. Plus I don’t actually know my birthday. I just decided I liked November so…”

She shrugs trailing off, her eyes stuck on the cake like she’s ashamed. You dart a look at Joel to see him similarly surprised at this admission. How could he not know? You glance back at Ellie who looks somber.

“I love that idea,” you enthuse. “I never liked my birthday. I think I’ll move mine to the summer so it’s always sunny when I celebrate. I guess you’ll have to make me a cake for mine, Ellie, so you better start practicing.”

Ellie grins over at you as you stick a fork into your piece of cake, the tension broken. The three of you are quiet as you savor the burst of flavor on your tongues.

“This is so good,” Ellie enthuses. “Way better than anything in the dining hall.”

You smile into your cake, flushing at the praise.

“So aside from a tattoo what would you want for your birthday?” Joel asks Ellie, his soulful eyes sincere. In moments like this you can see so clearly that he is a father, and a dedicated one at that. If Ellie asked for the moon you have no doubt he’d manage it.

“I wanna see a dinosaur,” Ellie replies seriously. “Or see space like in those books you got me.”

"Time travel," Joel nods, grinning. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of you chat casually about things in town, about Ellie and school until your plates are empty and Ellie is announcing she’s full after her third piece.

Before you can start helping with the dishes she has your wrist in your grasp and is announcing to Joel that you and her are going to do girl stuff so he needs to leave you both alone. Joel hides the amusement in his features, nodding as you’re dragged away.

She pulls you into her bedroom, closing the door and motioning for you to follow her. You smile at her, feeling a bit of that sisterly affection flow through you as you watch her pace around her room, looking for something. She moves things on her shelves as she talks to you over her shoulder.

"Are you going to the party with that guy you're always with?"

"Luke?"

"Yeah that sounds right. Is he your boyfriend?"

Your eyes fly wide before you give an awkward chuckle.

"No. Not my boyfriend."

"But you want him to be?"

"I don't really know," you answer honestly, fingers trailing along the edge of her desk. “Jennifer keeps trying to get us alone together.”

Ellie makes a face at this, halfway between exasperation and disgust as she throws back the pillows she moved. It makes you giggle but then feel guilty because Jennifer is truly one of the best people you know.

"Why do you dislike her so much?"

"I dunno," Ellie shrugs her left shoulder. "Just think she's phony is all. Just like Diana."

"I used to think that too," you tell her honestly. "Jennifer suprised me though. I think you'd like her if you gave her a chance, Diana too."

Ellie just shrugs again, hands in the pocket of her jeans in a way that is all Joel. So much of her is, from her scowl to the way she sticks her lower lip out in thought. She looks over at her dresser, eyes brightening.

“That’s where I left it.”

You watch as she pulls out a dark blue ribbon holding it in front of her.

"I never pictured you as a ribbons in your hair kind of person," you tell her honestly.

"I'm not." She hands the ribbon to you. “It’s for you. It’ll look nice in your hair.”

You’re touched by this, taking the ribbon, fingers dancing along the frayed edges. It’s a midnight blue, the deep of an ocean. You smile at her gratefully before pocketing it.

“Thanks Ellie, but it’s your birthday you’re the one that should be getting presents.”

“I got enough tonight,” Ellie says, looking away from you shyly. She strides over to the bookshelf, bringing out a book you didn't see during your last visit here. She holds it up to you as you approach.

"Did you ever read this one? Joel says it's a good one."

Charlotte's Web.

You feel your stomach churning the longer you look at the title. The pale watercolor girl and pig.

"Yeah," you say in a quiet voice. "It's a good one."

Ellie nods, looking back at it before tossing it onto her bed, obviously her evening reading. She's quiet for a few moments, contemplating something before gazing over at you.

"Don't tell Joel I'm thinking of going to the party. He'll just make a big deal about it."

You smile, touched by her trust in you.

"Our secret."

///

When the moon hangs low in the sky and the world feels quiet you find yourself under the big window in your bedroom sitting under a knitted blanket, eyes wide. Your pupils look like little moons themselves, eclipsed when the reflection is shifted as you tilt your head.

You've always loved looking at the moon. Unlike the sun that can be harsh and unforgiving, the moon is calm solemnity. It's quiet and forgiving. It bathes you in a soft glow and your neighborhood in a quiet still.

You realize that being with Joel is like being exposed in the sun. Often harsh, unforgiving rays that burn your skin, but when it's warm and gentle attention is on you it's so enticing you want to bask in it. It's not as if you actually enjoy his company. He's fucking insufferable. It's because he withholds so much that when he finally relents and allows a bit of softness to trickle through it's like a stream you want to drown in.

You were always been the one who wanted to befriend the feral cat, to earn their affection, to let them know you could be trusted. You suppose that must translate into this life now, a desire to tame the wild.

And now you sit in the night, gazing at darkness, lost in thought. Tonight is one of those nights, the kind where your mind won’t quiet and the world seems more confusing than normal.

Sometimes on these nights under the moon you watch people wander up and down the streets. The night owls that aren't bidden by a clock like the rest of the town. But it’s almost three in the morning and the streets are empty.

It leaves you with nothing but your increasingly frenzied thoughts because if you focus you can still feel the sensation of Joel’s wide fingers buried in your cunt, the rasp of his warm breath on your neck, the husky urging of his rumbling voice telling you to come for him.

I know what you feel like when you're close. Don’t fight it.

Be a good girl and do it.

Give it to me. S’mine

You could write it off as nothing but lust but then dinner with Ellie? It had been a softening, a sweetness you peeked through the cracks of his hard planes. You’d seen love in his eyes for her, compassion for you. And above all you’d felt safety there in his home, a brief flash of it before your past memories caught up with you, nipping at your heels. Then the sensation of his hands moving your hair over your shoulder, the touch all tender and asking nothing in return but your honesty.

Joel Miller confuses you.

And then like some phantom you see him.

He’s there amongst the dreary wet snow, walking – well, stumbling slowly towards your home. He must have been at the Bison – he has the look of a man who’s had one too many, something you’ve never truly witnessed in him before.

You tense up, watching him in your window, knowing he can’t see you in the darkness but still paranoid he’ll sense you. With the moon high in the sky you can see him perfectly, the blue-black shape of his broad body and soft curls. You see when he comes to stand in the center of the street and you inhale softly when his eyes fix on your bedroom window.

He stands there for several minutes just staring, sort of wobbling from foot to foot. For some reason his presence compels you into pulling on a robe and rushing downstairs. Your blood is roaring in your ears and you know your pulse is doing its own little tap dance but it doesn’t stop you from jerking open the door.

"Joel?"

Joel is standing on your porch now with his dark eyes squinting against the light from your home shining out behind you.

"Joel, it's three am."

Joel just stares at you, a long lingering thing. Something about the intensity of it makes any further remarks die on your tongue. Why did you come down here? Why did you open the door? Why did you invite this awkward moment into your life?

Joel stands there with glassy eyes fixed on your face. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and for a moment you worry something might actually be wrong. You pull your robe tighter around you before you take a step towards him.

"Joel are you-"

You go silent when he holds up a hand in front of him, palm facing you, silently asking you to stop talking.

"Just ..." he trails off, voice thick with sleep and alcohol.

He makes no move to come closer, no attempt to touch you. He just stares at you a few more minutes and then with a satisfied little nod to himself he walks off your porch and into the night. You watch him trail down your steps and then his long legs carry him in the direction of Rancher Street.

------------------------------------------

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177 notes · View notes

littlexdeaths · 2 days

Text

sweet child o’mine - e.m.

eddie munson x pregnant fem reader

warnings: none, just some tooth rotting fluff

a/n: in honor of father’s day, here is a little repost of an old blurb of mine. enjoy xx.

Lazy sunday’s with Eddie were always your favorite.

He didn’t have to go in to work at the shop with Wayne, the cars could wait for a day. He had been picking up more hours lately, due to the little miracle you were growing in your belly. Eddie was so concerned about having everything you both needed that he was going a little overboard.

Or as Wayne so lovingly liked to call them, new dad jitters. So you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like, but sunday would always be your day together. The tv was on the in background, re-runs of an old show neither of you were watching. He was currently sitting in the la-z-boy recliner in your living room, guitar perched on his lap.

You were sprawled out on the sofa, watching him fondly as he played around with the chords. Eddie wasn’t playing anything specific, just singing quietly as he attempted to work out this new melody floating around in his head. Your hands were resting lightly over your bump, tapping along to the beat when you felt it.

A little kick.

You sit up immediately, gasping in surprise. Eddie’s head snaps up, nearly dropping the guitar in his rush to get to you, concern lacing his features. But he is relieved when he sees you smiling, kneeling next to you on the sofa.

“They kicked,” you hum as you gently grab his hand and slide it beneath your sweater, placing it on your bump. But the kicking had stopped, much to both of your disappointment.

“Come on little one, do it again,” Eddie pleads softly to your belly, causing you to giggle.

You run your fingers through his shaggy curls as the other caresses over the back of his hand that was still resting on your bump.

“Can you sing for us, Ed? See if they’ll kick again?”

Your boyfriend just grins, nodding as he starts humming the opening chords to Sweet Child O’Mine. He keeps his palm resting on your belly, knotting your fingers together with the other.

“She's got a smile that, it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories. Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky…”

His voice is soft, husky as he sings right to your baby bump. The moment is so sweet it brings tears to your eyes. He stops once he hears your soft sniffles, but you nod for him to continue. Eddie just smiles that goofy grin you adore, pressing a kiss to your joined hands before continuing.

“Now and then when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place. And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry…”

The tears are steadily rolling down your cheeks now, as you feel another small kick. It surprises you both, but soon a look of absolute wonder crosses over his features. You can tell just how much this moment means to him as the tears begin to fill his waterline and slip down his cheeks. Eddie gently wipes them away with the sleeve of his shirt before he rests his head on your belly.

“Whoa, oh, oh… sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh… sweet love of mine.”

Another kick, but this time it seems to hit him right in the cheek. Eddie looks a little shocked and the both of you burst into a fit of giggles as his warm palm caresses the area once more. He lifts his head then, chocolate hues flicking up to meet yours.

You’ve never seen him look so happy.

“Sorry little one… daddy’s big head was in the way,” his tone is teasing as his nose nudges the swell of your tummy.

You can’t help but giggle again, motioning him over to press a soft kiss to his lips. He does so without hesitation, kissing you sweetly before he leans his forehead against yours.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad, baby…” you hum, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

#the freak writes 🫧#the freaks blurbs 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #dad!eddie munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson

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thebiggerbear · 3 days

Text

Thankful

Summary: It's Father's Day again and you have an extra special present for Ben this time around.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Happy Father's Day to those who celebrate! I think this was just my excuse to spend some more time with these two. 🤷‍♀️ I definitely took inspiration from a particular Jensen Instagram video for one of the scenes. 😉

All unbeta'd.

Prequel 1 | Prequel 2

Warnings: smut-ish (18+ - minors DNI); explicit dirty talk; breeding kink; language; a little fluff; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; Ben is one kinky motherfucker (or is it me? 🤔)

Word Count: 7135

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

Hearing giggling and running around in the other room, you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Ellie, Lilli,” you called. “Keep it down, please. Daddy’s still sleeping.” The girls giggled again which made you shake your head as you focused on plating the scrambled eggs you had just made.

Warm arms suddenly snaked around your waist and gently pulled you back into a solid chest, making you gasp quietly. “Daddy’s already awake,” a deep voice grumbled into your ear before lips were pressed to your skin underneath. You shouldn’t be surprised that you never heard him coming. Damn Supe skills.

You set the pan down onto the stove and rested your head back against Ben’s shoulder, hugging his arms and closing your eyes. You let out a sigh of contentment as you enjoyed the kisses he was placing to the side of your neck and your smile grew. “Mmm, how’d you sleep, baby?”

“You know,” he murmured against your jawline, making you laugh.

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck, seeing the dirty smirk on his face. “Can’t say I’m sorry about that.” You lifted up on your toes and kissed him with everything you had. You weren’t the least bit surprised when his hands began wandering with one ending up taking residence on your ass and the other at the back of your neck to push you further into him. You couldn’t help but moan as his tongue mercilessly plundered your mouth, bringing back memories of him kissing you this deeply last night after he’d brought you to orgasm with his fingers alone for the first round and you just had to have a taste. The thought of that, of everything his body had done to yours following that kiss, had you suddenly aching with want and need — always need. You didn’t think you would ever get enough of this man.

His hand had just lowered from your neck to grab hold of your breast when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Daddy!” Your daughters yelled excitedly in chorus.

You both immediately broke away from each other, gasping for air. “Shit,” Ben muttered under his breath as he quickly moved his hands to more respectable areas on your body. You shot him a look and he gave you a half-hearted shrug. While he was better about the language these days, that didn’t mean he still didn’t let certain words fly every now and then which your girls would suddenly pick up and make their favorite word of the day.

Ben seemed more concerned with something else right then, though, and hurriedly moved you in front of him before turning to face a beaming Ellie and Lilli. You could feel something beginning to poke you in the back and you had to bite your lip to keep from snickering. “Hey, how are my princesses this morning?”

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Ellie yelled.

Not to be outdone, Lillian (or Lilli as you all usually called her) yelled even louder. “Happy Fahdder’s Day!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your youngest daughter. She was only three but she definitely took after her father in the competition department.

“Awww thank you.” Completely forgetting his predicament, Ben crouched down and held his arms out, the girls running willingly into them. You smiled as you watched them kiss his cheeks and then squeal in laughter as he tickled them. This right here was your family and you couldn’t be more grateful. Who would have imagined when you had sought out Soldier Boy for protection once upon a time that it would lead to this? That he would one day become the most important man alive to you? That he would become the father of your children? Not you, that was for sure, but you couldn’t be happier with how things had turned out.

When Ben let up on the tickling, Ellie informed him breathlessly, “Daddy, we got you a present.”

“You did? You know I love presents.” He smirked up at you, full implication in his eyes, and you rolled yours. Yes, Ben loved getting presents. Christmas was a thing and you made sure to go all out for his birthday every year. You always gently teased him that he was high maintenance but you knew it wasn’t really about anything materialistic.

He had gone overboard on Ellie’s first couple of birthdays and Christmases and it had worried you because you didn’t want her getting spoiled. You didn’t want her getting the wrong idea on what those days should be about. They should be fun and full of joy, yes, but twenty two presents for a two year old? Really? She couldn’t even count yet how many boxes there were. What would happen when she could? Would she start keeping track, always expecting more with each year? Would you be raising a version of Dudley Dursley then?

After a pretty hefty argument the night of Ellie’s third birthday party while you were both cleaning up, you finally got it out of him why he went overkill on the gifts. Not only did he enjoy seeing her face light up when she opened up one of the boxes but he never had that growing up. Even though his family was well off, he received one single gift a year for Christmas and it was always something that was appropriate for his age but not a toy. For example, when he was ten, he received a tie. The same went for his birthdays. Though his mother always did something special for him on the side, his father couldn’t be bothered. The tough son of a bitch had even had the nerve to tell Ben that Santa Claus wasn’t real after he heard his son answering his mother on what he wanted from the man in the red suit that year. Then he had the nerve to insinuate that Ben was stupidly naive for believing such a “silly little story”. Ben was five.

Sometimes you wished you could bring his old man back and kill him again when Ben eventually disclosed things to you like this. Sometimes you also wished you could go back and shake his mother by the shoulders and ask her what she had been thinking by staying with a man who treated her and their son so poorly. Now being a mother yourself, as much as you loved Ben (and you loved him deeply), if he ever started treating your children or you in a similar manner or worse, you’d do whatever it took to get all of you away from him. You often had to remind yourself that it was another time when these things occurred and your husband hadn’t been born only four decades ago though he appeared as if he had been. You kept your thoughts to yourself, of course; you knew how much Ben had loved his mom. He had named your first daughter for her after all.

When he was done speaking, he still wouldn’t meet your eyes (something that usually happened whenever he shared his past with you like this) and you could see he was about to change the subject or make light of it with a badly timed joke. Anything to keep him from feeling vulnerable for too long or appearing weak in your eyes as he had once put it (and you’d done your best to kiss that silly notion right out of his head though it hadn’t worked). So instead, you immediately kneeled in front of him and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Baby,” you gently said. “I get why it matters to you, I do, but we just need to make sure as her parents that we do the right thing, raise her the right way. So, how about we cut the amount of gifts you get for her in half? At least for now. Just until Ellie is able to count that high. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to raise Kidzilla. Besides, Operation Terrible Twos was more than enough, don’t you think?” You nearly shuddered at the memory. You loved your daughter with everything you had, but whoa, that had definitely been a challenging time for all three of you.

You smiled when he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got a point. Almost lost the war on that one.”

“What’s this? Soldier Boy admitting he was almost defeated in battle? By a two-year-old?” You teased.

“Hey,” He picked you up and set you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “You almost didn’t make it through that battle, either.”

This time you did shudder. “But I did. We both did.” You nuzzled him and whispered, “Ben, I’m proud of you. I don’t think I tell you that enough, but I am. You’ve been through a lot, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve come out the other side and you’ve made major strides. I know you said you would do things better than your father back when I first got pregnant, but you really do. Every single day and I am so beyond proud of you. Ellie and I are very lucky to have you, baby.” You placed a kiss on his nose; you had meant every word.

His green eyes stared into yours and for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t immediately read him. You saw the love and adoration you always saw whenever he looked at you or Ellie but this time, it took you a minute to determine that what you were seeing was something similar to awe or reverence. And that shocked the hell out of you.

But you didn’t have too much time to think about it because right then he leaned in and kissed you, ripping your clothes from you with one swift tug, and stood up, turning to carry you to the bedroom and ignoring your irritated huf into his mouth from yet another outfit you would need to replace. It was obvious that he had decided the cleanup from the party would have to wait until the morning and you weren’t exactly complaining.

You had been a little more gentle with him that night and provided whatever comfort and silent reassurance you could. Your touches were tender, soothing, and loving. You were convinced that Lilli had been conceived that evening; she had arrived nine months later, almost to the day.

The same daughter that now had her hands all over her father’s face, trying to smush it in different directions for some reason. You watched as Ben patiently (and quietly) let her do what she wanted and this time, you were the one staring in awe. Ellie then asserted herself and hugged Ben closely, interrupting whatever playing around Lilli had been doing, which caused your youngest daughter to immediately yell out the demand, “Kiss, Daddy!”

“Okay. Kisses for my princess,” he laughed, and kissed her head before turning and kissing a frowning Ellie’s. “And kisses for my other princess.” Ellie’s frown immediately turned upside down and she hugged her father again. It was too cute and you swore it made your heart grow three sizes in a matter of seconds. Whenever you thought back to how you almost hadn’t escaped Vought’s clutches when a price had been put on your head, rather than let it paralyze you with dread as it had back when Ellie was born, you now let the gratitude wash over you. If they hadn’t, you would have never met Ben and you wouldn’t have the family you did now. You weren’t sure if there was a higher power up there watching over all of you or not but regardless, you were thankful all the same.

You may have also snuck a quick picture of the scene on your phone before quietly clearing your throat. “Alright, how about you guys go get your present ready in the living room and give me a minute to talk to Daddy?”

“Okay, Mommy.” Ellie eagerly nodded and let her father go, hurrying out of the room. Lilli did the same, determined to get to the present first. You shook your head, smirking as you watched. That competitive drive was going to be a problem when they got older if you didn’t find some way to nip it in the bud and soon. But for now, it was harmless and damn cute to boot.

Ben took a seat at the breakfast counter and gave you a nod of thanks, sipping the coffee you had just placed in front of him. “So what did you need to talk to me about without the girls around?” He waggled his eyebrows in suggestion.

You stood before him, leaning against the counter and gracing him with a knowing smile. “I have a gift for you, too.”

A salacious grin formed on his handsome face. “Oh, I know you do.”

“Nope, not that. That comes later, if you’re good.”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Actually, you’ll be coming later, if you’re good,” he promised in that deep tone he knew did things to you. Sure enough, you could feel that all-too familiar need begin to throb through you once again and you ruined your panties for the second time that morning. And the bastard knew it, too, because his nostrils momentarily flared and his grin immediately grew. He moved a little closer, like a panther closing in for the kill, and murmured, “I can still smell us. You’re leaking a little of me out of you right now, aren't you?”

His words had your body involuntarily clenching down on nothing as you tightly held onto the counter in front of you. If you had some of Ben’s strength, you were convinced your fingers would have dug into the marble. You pushed out a tiny breath and your body then relaxed, immediately releasing more wetness into your underwear.

“Ben,” you choked out in a whisper. “Oh my…God.” You quietly gasped as another gush escaped you, fully soaking you.

His nostrils flared again and in an instant he was by your side. “Fuck,” he growled into your ear when his hand skirted past your sundress and into your panties to confirm that he was right. “I hope this is my present. You know what? Fuck that, I’m going to give us both a present. I’m going to fill you back up and you better not let me leak out this time, dollface, or I might just take it as a personal challenge to our record. Then we’ll be pushing double digits no matter how much you might want to tap out.” Ho-ly fuck, double digits? Was he crazy? You’d have to wear a damn diaper for the next two days not to mention how sore you would be. But you had to admit, the thought was an extremely hot one for a second.

One hand of his was gently urging you down onto the counter while the other was quickly undoing the drawstring on his sweatpants, the hem of your dress lifted above your ass and your panties ripped off of you. One more second and he would be deep inside you, rutting into you fast and hard, and making you cry out as he sped you towards your release.

You still had enough presence of mind to remember that you had two little ones in the other room waiting on you and now was definitely not the time for you and Ben to get into an all-morning fuckfest. As much as it pained you to do, your brain cleared some of the lust fogging it up and you used your hand to push back at his waist. He immediately froze, his hand wrapped around his dick, and looked up at you.

“Not right now,” you nearly squeaked out, making you clear your throat. “The girls are waiting on us.”

He glanced in the direction of the living room, back at you, your ass, his dick, you again, and then back to the living room. “Fuck,” he hissed, slipping himself back into his sweatpants, tying the drawstring and adjusting himself as much as he could. “Okay. You’re right. I lost my head for a second but you’re right. I’m glad we didn’t…” He didn’t finish the thought and he didn’t need to. You didn’t want to think about what your girls might have walked in on if you hadn’t stopped him. How would you ever be able to explain that one to your six-year-old and three-year-old? That Daddy and Mommy were just playing a new game? Or he’d found a new spot to tickle you in? Tickling you…inside… Fuck. No, you weren’t going to think about that last part.

Ben gently cleaned you up with your torn panties, forcing you to bury your teeth into your lip to keep a moan at bay. He then tossed them into the trash and lowered the hem of your dress down, and carefully picked you up and placed you back on your feet, turning you to face him. He appeared a little troubled and you knew he was beating himself up much like he had back when Ellie had walked in on you when she was three.

You were pregnant and you were horny; Ben…Ben was always horny. He had you on your bed, near the edge (in more ways than one), and he stood over you, grunting with each slow, hard thrust into you. He controlled himself every time you two had sex so he didn’t hurt you, especially when you were pregnant, but you also liked a little roughness and he liked seeing you take what he gave you. You loved watching the muscles underneath his skin move as he fucked you like this (as you repeatedly told him, he had a body that was built to fuck to which he cockily told you he already knew that and proceeded to go about proving his point) and he loved keeping his eyes on yours with neither one of you looking away. The exchange would sometimes be so intense as he worked you both up to that edge that not a word was said, not a sound was made other than his grunts and echoes of the slams of his hips against your thighs and ass, and usually your orgasm would take you by complete surprise when it hit.

And it just so happened that this time around, your daughter had woken from her nap earlier than expected and climbed out of her bed to come find you. Because you and Ben were in the zone, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door open a little wider. Even your husband’s Supe hearing had missed it, his intense focus on you and what he was doing to your body. He had your legs up over his shoulder and he grunted particularly loudly on one rough shove into you and you couldn’t help but let out a cry. He smirked and began to pick up the pace, slamming into you faster, knowing you were close. The bed was creaking so loudly it sounded as if it were about to break. It wouldn’t have been the first time. You gripped onto the sheets and held on, biting so hard into your lip you could taste blood. Your daughter was still sleeping and you couldn’t afford to yell out a litany of expletives as the pleasure continued to swell inside your body. You were going to have to hold a hand over your mouth when you came. When suddenly, both you and Ben heard a crying sound that neither of you made.

You both turned to see your daughter standing there, tears streaming down her young face and looking frightened. “Mama,” she sobbed. You had never moved so fast in your life, immediately pushing Ben away and grabbing his t-shirt off the floor and throwing it on. Ben muttered a curse and quickly covered his lower half with the blanket that had been tossed aside. You had hurried over to Ellie who was a hiccuping, sobbing mess and held out her arms to you. You picked her right up and began speaking to her in soothing tunes, telling her everything was alright. You briefly glanced back at Ben before leaving the room, seeing the same disturbed expression on his face that you were seeing now. After that incident, he hadn’t touched you for at least a week and he blamed himself for not hearing her little feet pattering down the hall to your room. No matter how you tried to reassure him that it was a blameless accident and Ellie would be fine, telling him you doubted she would remember anything since she didn’t understand what she had seen, he still kept his hands to himself for a while. And it took a few days for him to be able to look your daughter in the face again.

It also took him a little while after that to relax back into sex with you and be fully present, not half listening for any sounds of your daughter waking up at night and wandering down the hall or him insisting that your body be covered in some way in case he needed to quickly move away from you. You understood his concern, his guilt, his shame, his mortification even, so you were patient with him and did everything he asked to help him feel more comfortable. Once it became apparent that your daughter wasn’t going to wake up in the middle of the night or if she had a nightmare he would hear her cries first, he eventually ripped your nightie off of you and went to town.

“I fucking missed these,” he growled, making you laugh, before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

So, remembering all of that, you decided to lighten things up. “I’m going to need that one in writing.”

He arched a questioning brow down at you.

“I’m right? I don’t think you’ve ever said that. I want it in writing.”

Ben smirked and tenderly rubbed his nose along yours, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. Crisis averted. “Good luck getting it because it’s never happening.”

“Oh, it will. Especially when I show you the present I have for you.”

He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “That really wasn’t my present?” He murmured, sounding disappointed.

You couldn’t help but smile. “No, that’s your later present. But this,” You reached behind you and grabbed something you had hidden under a newspaper. Yes, Ben still insisted on reading actual papers, and yes, you actually paid a few hundred dollars a year for the subscription. Well, the CIA did to be more precise but you still thought it was ridiculous. Though right now, you couldn’t care less; you were focused on Ben and this private moment between you. “This is your present from me.”

You urged him to open his hand and you placed the little device into it. His eyes widened when he saw what it was and glanced up at you to be sure.

You nodded, smiling. “Happy Father’s Day, baby.”

He tossed the positive pregnancy test onto the counter and picked you up, making you squeal as he hugged you tightly to him. You had just managed to wrap your legs around his waist when he began kissing you nonstop, smiling as you laughed in between kisses. Eventually, you both needed air. “How long?” He panted.

“Not sure. A few weeks? I have to call the doctor tomorrow to make an appointment.”

His lips covered yours once again. “Christ on a cross, we’re having another one.” He froze then and pulled back, staring at you. “Christ on a cross, we’re having another one,” he repeated, this time his tone sounding a little more daunted.

You playfully slapped at his shoulder. “Yes, we are. Don’t act like this is a surprise to you, buddy. This is what you wanted. We’ve been trying to knock me up for the past two months and we know just how potent your sperm can be.” Once Lilli had turned three, you agreed to start trying for another baby and Ben held you to it. If he could get five kids out of you, he would. Considering you were the one carrying all said kids and actually pushing them out of you, you compromised to three, four at the most. He hadn’t liked that of course, but you told him after your possible fourth kid (more like your third), if he wanted to go shack up with another woman and get her to carry more of his kids, he’d be welcome to it. He’d scowled at you but pulled you close, making you sit in his lap with a blanket covering you both as you watched Band of Brothers on Netflix.

“Well, this is boring as shit. Thank Christ they sent me over when they did, where the real fighting was,” he muttered in your ear a couple of minutes later, placing his drink on the side table. You were about to correct his skewed perception of the popular TV series when he lifted you up a little, yanked your yoga pants down, and urged you to sit back down on him (his fly now miraculously open). You did and the feeling made your eyes roll back into your head, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. “Fuck,” he groaned into your neck. “As if I would ever leave this pussy. It’s mine, it will always be mine, and I belong right here.” He thrust his lips a little for each word and you gasped, reaching back to hold onto him. “You got that?” He growled. You eagerly nodded and attempted to turn your head to kiss him but he moved away. “Uh uh. You’re going to sit there, full of me, and you’re going to think about what you said.”

“About the kids?” You gasped when his hips slightly bucked into you at the word. “I’m not backing down on that.” It had been hard enough to get him to agree to a three year spacing in between said kids. If he could have his way, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant every chance he could. You had to explain to him how that wasn’t good for the female body and how doctors were now recommending spacing out pregnancies to give women time to recover. He hadn’t liked it but he had begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to do anything that might cause you harm, though he still thought sometimes that the doctors were full of shit. “Population control. That’s all it is. Guaranteed.” You had simply rolled your eyes at that one and took the win.

“No. The other thing you said,” he murmured, glaring at you before taking a sip of his drink.

“About finding someone else to knock up to get your other fifteen kids? I wasn’t kidding.”

The scowl deepened and he bucked his hips a little harder, making you gasp again. You laid your head back on his shoulder and attempted to kiss him once more. He leaned in as if he was going to give in but then quickly turned back to the TV. “Like I said, you’re going to sit here and think about that for a while.” A few minutes of tense silence later, he finally broke it. “You’re the only one I want to knock up with my kids — three, five, ten — doesn’t fucking matter. I told you I’d stick around the first time and I meant it.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

You suddenly realized just how callous your words had been however unintentional. At face value, you had half been kidding, half been serious. You didn’t really want Ben to go off and have another family with someone else, for various reasons. You always got an unpleasant gut clench anytime you noticed Ben checking out another woman when you were out and about, young or old. He’d give you a smirk and say “Just looking in the store window, doll. I’m not planning on going in and buying anything.” To which you would shoot him your most lethal glare and not allow him to touch you that night. Eventually, he stopped looking — or at least didn’t make it so obvious — and those arguments soon dissipated into the past. Now, your words had not only unintentionally brought it all back up but you had also unintentionally reminded him about a part of his past that he didn’t feel represented who he was anymore. Sure, he’d told you about the fuckboi phase in his life, sometimes in excruciating and unwanted detail, but he had also told you that once he settled down with you and started building a family, he was eager to leave those days behind him. Much like the moniker Soldier Boy. He didn’t mind it when you mentioned it in jest like you had earlier, but other than that, he didn’t like you using it period. Well, not until you introduced one very sexy night of roleplay where you were the damsel in distress turned thankful rescued party who was willing to do anything to show her gratitude and he was the superhero doing the rescuing and benefitting from that gratitude. Thankfully, Elena and Maggie had agreed to watch the girls that one weekend because it certainly had been loud and rough and dirty. But other than joking or sex, you were asked not to call him by that name, especially in your girls’ hearing. Not until he deemed them ready to hear about his golden superhero days.

And now, he was mad at you. You let out a quiet sigh and then performed an around-the-world spin that would have made your old horseback riding coach proud. Well, maybe not in this situation. You grabbed Ben’s chin and forced him to look up at you. “I know you’re not,” you assured him. “I just meant I can’t have a dozen kids, Ben. I want to give you the family you want, that we both want. I do, but we have to be realistic here. That’s all I meant,” you finished in a whisper, pecking his lips. “I don’t ever want you with anyone else. You said this is yours?” You ground into him to make your point, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Well, this,” You clenched down tightly on him, making his breath hitch and his hands fly to your hips. “This is mine. You got that?” You finished in a growl.

His eyes darkened considerably and you knew there was no way now that you were making it through the episode you had been plodding through earlier; you knew what was coming next. That look said everything.

Sure enough, “Yeah, I fucking do,” rumbled out of his chest and in the next second you were on your back on the couch with him pounding away at you. Things had gotten a little…primal that night, to the point where he even told you “If you were a Supe, this house would no longer be fucking standing, I’d make sure of it”, but you had given him your reassurance, he was no longer mad at you, and you were back on the three kid goal with a possible fourth.

So, this was now your third pregnancy. You knew his heart was set on a boy; for his sake, you hoped this one would be the one he wanted so badly. While you had said you might be open to a fourth kid down the line, you had to wait to see how this pregnancy went first. The one with Ellie had been pretty much what was expected for a first pregnancy. Lilli’s, though, it had been a rough first trimester but thankfully it began to ease up near the middle of the second trimester and then was all smooth sailing from there. But the morning sickness had been horrible, almost violent even. There were many days you were down for the count where Ben had to pick up the slack with Ellie and you’d even had to call in Elena and Maggie as reinforcements, much to Ben and Maggie’s chagrin. So, needless to say, you wanted to see how this pregnancy, labor, and delivery went first and how juggling three kids under the age of ten between you and Ben would go.

“I know,” he groaned, bringing you back to the present, and dropped his head down to your shoulder. “Just…three kids.”

“And you wanted ten,” you laughed.

He lifted his head and smirked right at you. “Still do. But I know we agreed to four—”

“Three, with a possible fourth,” you corrected.

“Four—”

“Ben, I swear…”

He chuckled and cupped your cheek, kissing you. “I’m just happy, sweetheart.” As if that was a valid explanation for him continuing to troll you on this topic.”Guess we don’t need to worry about you leaking me after all.”

“Oh no, we still need to worry.” You quickly glanced down underneath you, hoping nothing had dripped out onto your kitchen floor. Not to mention, Ben might need to change his pants now. “We actually need to change really fast before we go in to see the girls because you need new pants and I am not walking around everywhere like this, making a mess.”

Ben turned with you in his arms and headed towards the hall. “Mmm, I like it when you make a mess. All fucking over me.”

Your cheeks heated and you blew out a harsh breath, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of your face. “Ben,” you hissed. “You’re not helping.”

He laughed and made a right turn into your bedroom, carefully depositing you on your feet. His eyes darkened as he watched you slip a fresh pair of panties on underneath your dress. You turned to find he had already changed and naturally, he was already tenting them. “Oh my God, Ben, you have got to get that under control. You can’t go out and see the girls like that. Jesus.”

“You could help with this, you know.” He pointed to his crotch. “It’d be faster.”

You shot him a glare. “Seriously? Didn’t we just go through this? Besides, I’d tell you to think of your grandmother in the shower, but knowing you…”

He made his way over to you, a roguish smile on his face. “I’m kidding, doll. Relax.” He slapped your ass, making you squeak in surprise, and grasped it tight in his palm. “I fucked another baby into you,” he boasted proudly. “I got to be honest, right now I don’t know whether I want to fuck you some more or I want to hold you.”

You arched a brow up at him. “Hold me?”

“I don’t want to take my fucking hands off of you,” he elaborated, a hand sneaking down to your still flat stomach, rubbing gently, and the other gripping your chin and staring into your eyes. “This is the best fucking Father’s Day gift you could have ever given me, doll. Thank you.”

You could see that he meant it. You knew he would be happy. You could also see the familiar fire burning in his eyes that you’d seen the other two times you had been pregnant. Nothing put him in a perpetual state of constant arousal than knowing he had been successful in knocking you up. The guy had a serious breeding kink but truthfully, so did you. Which had worked in both your favor twice now (Ellie hadn’t been planned, not officially anyway). You knew exactly what he was talking about with the hands thing, though, because you usually wanted your hands on him some way a lot of the time and even more so when you were pregnant. Which is why the next ten to twelve hours were going to be beyond difficult, especially if Ben was intent on teasing the crap out of you. But you had no choice but to get through it.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You quickly kissed him and then stepped away, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers. He went to speak when you held your free hand over his lips. “Don’t. Elena and Maggie are visiting Elena’s father today. It’s a two hour drive, each way. We’re not calling them.”

His shoulders slumped slightly and he frowned in disappointment.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout staring back at you. “We can do this. Tonight, you’ll have me all to yourself and as a Father’s Day bonus, I will call Elena tomorrow and see when she’s free.” You shot him a wink and just as you’d hoped, the dirty smirk was back on Ben’s face.

“Hope she’s free for the next two days because you won’t be,” he growled and playfully slapped your ass again.

“Uh huh. We’ll see. Now, seriously, we’ve got two other kids waiting for us and they’re excited to give you their gift. What do you say we go in there and see what they made you?”

He stopped short. “They made me something?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, leading him out of the bedroom. “They worked really hard on it, too.”

“It’s not going to be some fucking cheap shit from Ellie’s school, is it? Something I’ll have to hang on the fridge and pretend to like every time she’s in the room?”

You dropped his hand and swatted his arm. “Ben! Don’t be such an asshole,” you hissed. “Your daughter loves you and you should be honored if she did.”

“I know she does but that fucking hippie school she’s in doesn’t.”

“It’s a perfectly good— No, you know what? I’m not doing this with you again.”

Ben slowed half a step and his eyes immediately glued to your ass. “Good because I’d rather be doing something else with you again, doll. You have no idea how fucking hard I want to ride you right now. Love that ass.”

You ignored him and his chuckle when you hurried your steps before the predictable slap could happen and silently flipped him off before entering the living room. The girls glanced up, their young faces brightening when they saw Ben appear behind you.

Ellie and Lilli both held up a sign they had made touting Ben as the Best Daddy Ever. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!”

“Best Daddy!” Lilli yelled.

And just like that, Daddy Ben was back, grinning wide and gathering his girls up in his arms when they ran over to him to give him a hug. You watched with a smile as Ellie read something she had written in class with her teacher’s help about her daddy being her hero. You pretended you didn’t see Ben’s eyes glistening for a brief moment. You held a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter when Lilli handed him a drawing she made him that had lines and all sorts of shapes in different color markers. He barely kept his expression in check.

“Uh, what’s this, Princess?”

“Daddy!” Lilli pointed to the picture and beamed.

Ben’s eyes briefly snapped to yours and you crossed your arms, arching your brows expectantly.

“I love it, Princess,” Ben told Lilli. “I can’t wait to hang it up on the fridge. But you know what I love even more than this drawing?”

“What?”

“You,” he growled before picking her up and covering her face in kisses, making her giggle. Ellie rushed over and threw herself on his back, hanging from his neck. He carried them over to the couch and started tickling them. Their giggles were loud and their joy apparent, and Ben’s laughter was deep as they attempted to tickle him back and smother him with their own kisses and hugs. At one point, he managed to glance over at you and you gave him a warm smile before turning to leave.

“I’m going to finish up breakfast for Daddy. Do you girls want pancakes or waffles?”

“Both!” Ben and Ellie answered simultaneously, making you laugh and the girls giggle again. You quickly looked back over your shoulder and it didn’t surprise you in the least to find Ben’s eyes trailing after you or when he said a moment later, “Girls, I think we should go keep an eye on Mommy. You know she can’t be trusted near any open flames. What do you say?”

“Yeah!”

“Mommy!”

You rolled your eyes at his open flames comment but your smile also grew; you knew what he was up to. Sure enough, after you had set Ellie and Lilli up with easy tasks and you were mixing the pancake batter, arms wrapped around you from behind and warm hands rested on your stomach. Ben buried his face into your neck, your skin being softly tickled by his beard. You reached a hand up to run your fingers through his hair and he let out a small sigh, hugging you even tighter.

Eventually, you had to move away to wash your hands and check on the girls, but he went with you. He only broke away to flip the pancakes for you and handle the waffle iron so you wouldn’t have to. When you were pregnant with Ellie, that kind of overprotectiveness used to drive you up a wall but by this pregnancy, you were used to it. It made him feel better and it helped you out; that was fine by you.

When you all sat down at the table to eat, he pulled you into his lap, ignoring your glare, and dug in. While you all discussed what to do for the rest of the day, you felt Ben’s hand back on your stomach, his fingers gently caressing the area. When he said something that made the girls laugh, you smiled. This was your family, right here: the two beautiful little girls who watched their father with such adoration as he talked, the man who was currently rubbing your stomach and winking over at you with that smirk, and the little one inside you who you all would meet in the next year. As you took it all in, you couldn’t be more thankful for breaking out of the Vought fold and seeking out its spurned OG superhero when you did. You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you hadn’t; none of you would be. Your hand gently covered Ben’s and it prompted him to look over at you. You leaned down to place your forehead against his, closing your eyes with your smile in place as you felt him place a kiss on your nose. More than thankful.

#thebiggerbear writes #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys fic #jensen ackles character fanfiction #jensen ackles character #jensen ackles character fanfic #jensen ackles #scheduled post #sequel to you're safe now I'm here #thankful

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poppy-metal · 3 days

Note

i just saw your ask w angelplummie with daughters bsf art and respectfully i must ask your thoughts on dad’s bsf patrick

hhh gonna kill myself because imagine being arts daughter,,,,, growing up with patrick in your life hes like the fun uncle in your memories, dunking you in the pool, taking you on a ride in his truck, giving you noogies - it isn't long though before your thoughts aren't innocent anymore and he's not an uncle at all to you - he's a man. and you've watched him grow too, art being a teen dad - you remember him when he had no scruff on his chin - you watched him fill out - become more rugged, lose the boyish quality of his 20s and become the man you know today. hes still the same person at his core, impulsive, your fathers polar opposite in every way - fire to his ice.

your relationship shifts when you enter high-school. if only because you experience your first rebel streak. art is a good dad, but hes nervous and tight laced. the thought of you seeing boys or drinking and staying up late getting rowdy,,,,, it'd send him into cardiac arrest.

but you know patrick gets it. he was like you when he was your age, a free spirit. he still was, because thats not something that dies. and maybe that's how you develop feelings for him beyond that of a family friend. when you see a kinship there. a shared soul. you're soulmates, you're sure of it. meant to be. cut from the same cloth.

it happens in tenth grade. its not your first party but its the first time you get reckless. drink too much. things stop being as fun when boys grab at your hips and leer at you, and you feel sick. you want to go home but you know you cant call your dad. it'd break his heart to see you like this. the lecture alone would make pound against your head. you dont want to deal.

so you call patrick zweig. in your phone as 'Ricky 💗' only you were allowed to call him that. special. soulmates. he'll get it. hes been here, you're sure of it. and he wont tell. countless times he was drunk and lied to his parents about it, you bet.

you call him. he comes.

and you were right about the not telling but what you dont expect his quiet anger. you can feel it in the stillness of the car. when he pulls up to pick you up and his jaw is tight and hes tapping on the steering wheel. you think if you were more sober you'd care more about pissing him off. all you can think about is how pretty he looks in the moonlight.

"thank youuuu." you slur to him when you tumble in.

patrick flicks a look at you you're too drunk to decipher - he was smoking with his elbow propped outside the window while he waited for you. he flicks the ash out the window and turns the ignition on. "put your seatbelt on."

woah. thats gonna be a new fantasy, you think. that authoritative tone. you fumble with the belt, but your fingers look fuzzy and keep missing the hole. "no clicky." you complain.

patrick huffs and then he's leaning over his center console - his arm reaching over your body. it happens in slow motion in your head. you look down at his arm stretched out across your waist, notice the veins in his arms, the dusting of hair. thicker than when he was younger. filled out. your lips part.

he tugs the seatbelt from your fingers and clicks it into place. tugs the belt securely over your chest and his knuckles brush over your chest for the briefest moment. you inhale. exhale.

he pulls back. starts to pull out of the driveway. you say, "thank you." a full minute later, your voice small and soft.

he doesn't look your way. thats okay. you can watch his hands on the steering wheel all you want this way. the smooth glide of his palm over the wheel when he makes a turn. the idle rub of his thumb over it when hes going steady.

"how wasted are you?" he asks eventually.

you take a moment to think. try to count the alphabet backwards... yeah, no.

"pretty wstd..." you mumble. then you giggle. "wasted." you sound out the word.

patrick breathes deeply like he's purposely staying calm. "jesus." he looks at you again, a quick up and down assessment. "art cant see you like this. he'll lose his shit."

"he'll..." you hiccup. "he'll ground me foreverrrrrrr."

"your ass should be grounded." patrick snaps. "i mean, what the hell?" he says your name all disappointed and it shouldn't make you feel things but it does.

"you were doin worse at my age." you tell him.

at this, he finally laughs. more of a chuckle. a huff of amusement. his lips twist wryly. "kid, what i was doing at your age would make -" he pauses, thinks better of whatever he was about to say. "- lets just say nobody should be doing what I was doing at that age." he looks at you, "fucking especially not you."

your lips purse. "maybe i wanna be like you."

he shakes his head. "no, hun - you dont. trust me -" he grins but there's a kind of.... morose? tone to his voice. wistful almost. "you don't wanna be like me."

you frown, lips tugging down. you twist in your seat as much as your seatbelt will allow. his side profile really is something. you see hair at the nape of his neck is slightly damp - curling at the ends. he must have been taking a shower when you called - or quickly took one before he came to get you -

"i think i already am like you." you tell him honestly. the alcohol loosens your tongue. makes you more bold than you would be normally. "like, right here." you thump a hand against your chest. "on the inside." your teeth dig into your bottom lip. "i feel it. that.... thing we have."

"its called stupidity."

you shake your head. hard enough to make your brain feel knocked around.

"no, dont... dont diminish it. its not that - its like. you wanna be free - like... you were born a wolf but raised as a sheep. and you just wanna get out - run into the forest and be wild. you have that. i can see it. you try to push it down, but i see it. i see you, ricky. and i think you're cool as fuck. dont let -" you swallow. "- dont let anyone make you feel.... like you have to - have to - conform. i like who you are."

its quiet after that. patrick doesn't say anything. you watch your words run through him. see his adams apple bob. his lips work from one side to the other. hes chewing on it, you think. on what you said.

eventually he looks at you. his eyes are dark from it being night outside, but you can still see their green. his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

"you're drunk as fuck."

but he says it like his voice is ran through gravel. rough and soft. you think what he really means is, thank you. i see you too.

you fall back against your seat and nod. you're getting sleepy.

"yeah." you agree. "i am that."

you hear him sigh. "I'll take you back to mine - tell your dad you got caught in a storm and couldn't make it all the way to his." his voice does that authoritative thing again, "but dont make this a habit, im too old for this shit."

"what're you gonna do? spank me if i misbehave again?"

he says your name in warning. once. clipped and short. so serious.

"I'll try." you tell him. "but no promises."

"you're gonna give me gray hairs."

"tuck me in when we get to yours?"

"dont fucking push it."

#ask #tw: stepcest #even though it hasn't happened yet bc ur a minor..... its brewing..... the stirrings.....#patrick zweig x reader

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bored-trans-orchidsexual · 1 day

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Ratfish Musings

Absoultely loved this 2-parter finale. Was initially sad to not see the survivor premise be an every finale thing, but how appropriate to the spirit of game changer to make different finales, based on different reality game shows they like. NGL had never even heard of the circle before, binged a few seasons of it while waiting for ratfish pt 2.

The original show is... all right, it's a bit stereotypical, but a nice enough experience. Based on dropout's take, however, I'm trying to organize making a game out of this on discord and it could be fun, this is something we as fans can pretty easily replicate for ourselves on social media, and a pretty good finale for the season.

Like with many others I'm seeing on here, I found the ratfish character to be the weak part of the episode. Dropout on the whole, and that drag show in the first ep of thousandaires, is *really* building up a brand of personality with it's extended cast. Who these people are, how they make each other laugh, and the memories they make together in the experiences these shows provide, really creates a fun, wholesome, and engaging experience that just keeps building on itself. I think this is where the magic of dropout content can be found and when building on it, it just keeps getting better, but this ratfish idea... didn't land. I even saw a post from what I presume to be a fan of this guy, who found how little he was used annoying and that, not seeing the cast's reaction to him at the end, felt like a disappointment, so I have to ask 'why was this guy chosen'? His dry, kind of uninterested vibe didn't really add much to the experience, the amount of power he had over the game felt a little off putting, and even people who do like him, probably felt his minimal presence was a waste of whatever they like about him, it's not like he got a chance to *Shine* here. With this as my only exposure to this guy he seems kinda boring. What was the intent with this? Why did he have so much influence on a game that *heavily* relied on this group of co-workers and friends reading each other through the bits? Also it feels like Rekha got *snubbed* Like not only did she manage to land everyone's identities *before the final round*, without a reward of any kind and in fact, ended up with 2nd place because despite her skill the *ratfish* arbitrarily picked Katie's art (love to katie, not her fault) but also in the talkback portion it never even got brought up. She mentioned it to brennan's face and no reaction. Solving the game entirely *before it's over* should have been a bigger deal.

#ratfish spoilers #game changer spoilers #dropout #game changer

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fishsinsareacknowledged · 2 days

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Lost conversations —Konig x Reader -Sfw/Some cursing/mentions of fucking.

Drunk König who's infinitely calmer than his usual.

"Schatz?"

He asks, waiting for a response. His head lolls on your shoulder, brain full and stuffy. Thinking of everything and nothing at once.

"Hm?"

You respond, your voice filling his brain and echoing off the walls of his thick head for a moment before he actually processes it.

Well. Better now than later.

"Marry me."

A pause. Then two. Maybe kidnapping you would be quicker.

"König, you're drunk."

"Ja and?"

He knows you would, maybe someone's forcing you not to. He'd kill them if that's what it takes.

"I have known you for years by now Schatz."

"You...you just confessed to me a week back König."

Oh, is that it?

Should he get you a diamond ring? Maybe moissanite, he's heard it shines brighter.

"...What about the wedding. Do you even want one?"

Ah, you're actually considering it.

"Ja, not if you don't want to of course."

"So just what? Make me sign the papers hm?"

Oh, you're just entertaining him. He'll take that.

"And a ring, anything you'd like."

"Make it all shiny and expensive yeah?"

When did you start carrying him? Ah nevermind, his quarters were close either way. He shouldn't lean too much but his shoulders felt heavier than usual.

"Only for you."

"I'm a fucking colonel Schatz if the higher ups knew I was trying to fuck they'd congratulate me on finding a hobby."

"What about a necklace instead hm big boy? Can't really be caught out here fraternizing can we?"

What a fucking joke. Getting married to you is much more important than those people.

That earned a laugh out of you, you always liked it when he was brutal with his words. Fuck, he had to have you.

"So what? That's it? A ring and some papers, doesn't sound very romantic does it?"

Romantic, what a rip off. He'd kill himself and the whole base if you'd ask him to and you were asking about how romantic it is. fine. He'll be romantic.

"Flowers."

He manages to groan out, women liked those right? Something about the symbol of romanticity, probably even a word but who cares? His Oma always loved the flowers back home, maybe you did too.

"Vows, I'll speak my vows. I'll sign them on paper, record them if you must but they will be. I just- marry me please Schatz I need-"

"Ah of course flowers, a woman's dream. What says I couldn't buy myself flowers hm tough guy? Anything to counter that or are you too wrecked?"

The main event of a wedding were the promises right? And the bride of course. Mostly promises.

A stumble and he's grunting off the floor right infront of you, he would be much more embarrassed if he hadn't already thrown up on your feet a few years back.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Is all he hears before he blacks out, a forgotten conversation yet he knows it's a memory he can feel. A memory that he can't even remember clearly but can feel. He just needs to marry you Schatz.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Masterlist

#cod #call of duty #hcs #konig x you #konig x reader #cod konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig

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kaeyx · 16 hours

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Happy birthday Dazai!

Dazai x afab!gn!reader [wc:2.8k]

Content/warnings: 18+, couch sex, humping, unprotected sex, more of a dom-ish reader, Dazai is called princess, y'all skip work but that's always morally correct

Notes: I began this bitch over a year ago as a joke and it's finally out. Dedicated to the lovely @sproutzai because I love him and also because he made the pretty layout!

All things considered, it’s not that big of a surprise that Dazai ends up in your bed. Your job is filing reports, the pay isn’t good enough to justify any wild clubbing, and there’s something in his pretty eyes that’s been promising you a lot of things ever since you joined the agency. It feels like you’re a puzzle he’s been trying to crack, poking and prodding and letting his hands ghost over your back whenever he walks by; high enough that it’s not off putting, low enough that you want to yank him closer by the lapels of his stupid coat and tell him to just commit already, damnit.

His sweet, singsong voice is low, purring in your ears while his hand cradles your face. His fingers are long and boney, cold, circling behind your neck to pull you into him. The door to your apartment is solid against your back and his hips fit snugly in your hands.

You break away to unlock it, ignoring the man pawing at your back and mouthing at your neck in favour of getting your key in the hole. Fuck, you can’t believe you’re skipping work for this guy.

Sunlight falls across the floor of your apartment, dust dancing through your living room. When you reach behind you to tug him inside he stumbles, his eyes dark with anticipation but the edges of his mouth twitching upwards like a giddy teenager. His already rebellious hair falling into his face, vest half undone, shirt untucked and rumpled around his waist. Your fault, not that you’re sorry about messing him up a little.

Dazai licks his lips and smiles, a little predatory, a lot daring, and you knowingly take the bait, pulling him close and grabbing wherever you can, your mouth continuing where it had last left his jaw. Two pairs of shoes are hastily kicked off, landing mingled on the floor. You should both be working, you in the office and him outside and yet here you are, grinding against each other like a pair of overeager kids, and you can’t even bring yourself to care. You can feel his bulge growing under his slacks, his hands wandering downwards to squeeze your ass and pull you in by your belt loops, drool collecting hot and heavy on the edges of your mouths.

Your blazer falls over the nearest chair as you pull Dazai backwards, making your way across the room by pure memory. The back of your leg hits the edge of the couch, cushions sinking under your combined weight as his knee lands between your thighs, his body covering yours. It’s easy to hook one finger, and then two, under the bandages on his neck and drag him down. A groan slips out of his mouth, one you quickly silence with your own eager lips. He eagerly follows your pull, crawling up to you with his hands caging you in on either side of your head.

You tug the bandage down to expose his pale neck and nip at his throat, delighting in the full body shiver that runs through him and presses you closer.

“You like that?” Your lips graze his pulse point and he inhales sharply. His throat bobs.

After a beat of silence he groans a little, and it makes you laugh.

“Answer me,” you say lightly, smiling. He chuckles.

“You’re really going to make me say it?” he pouts, adjusting himself so your eyes can meet. His hair is falling all round, framing his face and reddened lips.

“I can do a lot worse, princess.” The nickname slips out unintentionally, but you see his eyes widen a fraction, feel a twitch against your thigh and know you’ve struck gold.

He looks away first, dropping his head to your shoulder and nestling himself right against your collar before saying, “please?”

Heat spears straight through your abdomen, tugging him up by the bandages to crash your mouths together in a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue and makes Dazai whine in delight. He relaxes against you completely, held up only by his forearms on the armrest, knowing he’s got you. When you break away the sun is in his eyes, turning them sienna.

“Take that stupid coat off,” you whisper.

“Only the coat?” He’s already scrambling back, slipping his arms out of the sleeves. Bandages hide all his skin until they disappear into the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

As you sit up, reaching for his vest, he takes your wrists and presses them flat against his chest, leaning in to kiss you again. He lets his lips hover, barely brushing your own, letting his breath fan across your face. His nose is nearly touching yours. Your fingers fumble for the buttons on his shirt and vest, giving way to the rough feeling of bandages wrapped around his chest as his own cold hands make quick work of your shirt. He traces the curve of your shoulder and follows it down your arms, tossing the fabric to the ground in a heap.

“I’m going to have to iron that later,” you complain absently, but the thought of returning to work is admittedly fading from your mind with every kiss.

Dazai’s vest falls on the cushions behind him. “You worry too much,” he says, squeezing your hips to put your focus back on him.

Your hands go to his middle, fingers dancing carefully over his bandaged torso so as to not dislodge anything, feeling his hip bones poke through his slacks. You press forward, one hand splayed across his stomach until Dazai gets the hint and falls back against the other end of the couch with a spark of excitement in his eyes. His pants are easy to undo, hasty fingers tugging the fabric down to expose his hips as he reaches for your own waistband and pulls you to sit on his thighs.

“Sit back.” Your voice is a little shaky as you grab his cold, bandaged wrists and push them up by his head. He laughs, grinning at you with a spark in his eyes.

“Come on,” he whines, reaching out again. You swat his hands off your hips and he pouts, letting them fall back.

“Patience,” you say, giving him a pointed look, already back to teasing his thighs, fingers running over the edge of his bandages. You snap his boxers against his skin, making his fists clench by his head and his brows twitch, smile twitching at the edges. His stomach jumps as you watch shamelessly, your eyes on the sliver of scarred thighs and tummy, and the mass of dark hair trailing down between his legs.

“Lift your hips for me,” you instruct, hands suddenly aching to pull everything off him.

Dazai happily complies, wriggling his hips to help, sighing as his length springs free from his boxers and he kicks them off.

Palm wet with spit you reach for his cock, watching with satisfaction as Dazai’s eyes unfocus when you squeeze the base.

“What, no bandages here?” You tease, smiling up at him. He chuckles, though it sounds significantly less steady than his usual voice.

It’s not the thickest you’ve seen by far, but it’s long and twitches invitingly under your gaze, the tip flushed a pretty pink. You run your fingers up the underside and push it against his stomach, thumb rolling over the head and catching his slit, coming away stained with a bit of precum. Dazai is staring at you while you’re staring at his dick, too mesmerized to appreciate the flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked,” Dazai pouts, once again tugging on your pant leg.

“Fine, fine, greedy cunt,” you grumble, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips. It’s not bad at all to be so wanted, especially not if it’s Dazai looking at you with his twinkling eyes.

It’s not hard to shuck the rest of your clothes, finally leaving you bare before him, but you don’t let him get a good look before you’re back on top of him, straddling his thighs. Once again taking his cock into your hands you give it a few gentle strokes before carefully sitting on it and his stomach, trapping his dick between your pussy lips.

Dazai’s hips twitch up and he groans, his hands instinctively flying to your hips and squeezing the warm flesh. You take a deep breath, grinding yourself back and forth in tiny motions that make his cockhead rub just right against your clit. You’re soaked, your cunt already making a mess all over his length and even his stomach, the slick easing your movements and helping you hump him. Dazai is still holding tight onto your hips and looking up at you with wonder in his gaze, and you spy him licking his lips.

You brace yourself on his chest and roll your hips with slow, sensual movements, looking down at the man spread out beneath you. Dazai is looking back with need and wonder on his face, his hips rocking up to meet yours, his cock slotted perfectly against you. You lower your head to his and brush your lips against his, sucking on his bottom lip and trapping the soft flesh between your teeth for a second before pulling away, kissing and nipping at his chin and under his jaw as Dazai tilts his head back and whines, his boney hands tightening on your hips. Travelling further down your mouth finds his collarbones and eventually the hard nub of a nipple, hidden away under his bandages. Dazai tenses when you rub your lips against it, letting out a delicate, shuddering whine and humping you a bit faster. Smiling, you ignore the discomfort of your position and instead lavish the whole area with your tongue, flattening it and letting your spit soak his bandages.

Dazai brings his face to your shoulder, kissing and sucking, tiny kitten licks that leave behind sparks of cold. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Nimble fingers trace your spine from your neck to your hips, drawing senseless curves and circles, committing your skin to memory. It makes you shudder and him smile, adding a hint of nail to his touches that has you shivering, your hips snapping forwards involuntarily. The eager mouth on your skin falls open as you wrap your lips around his nipple and suck, his tongue lolling out and pressing flat against your collarbone. He licks a stripe up to your neck but you can feel his breath trembling against you and it makes your heart flutter.

“You like this, don’t you?” You groan against Dazai’s chest, kissing the crisscrossing bandages over his heart. He’s also curled up a bit to reach your shoulder without having to stop humping your soft cunt, and his tummy is tense.

“Mhmm,” Dazai sighs happily, relaxing against the cushions and kissing the top of your head. “And you do too.”

Your hips slow a little as you get distracted, choosing to brace yourself on the sofa on either side of Dazai’s midsection instead of on his chest, taking his other nipple into your mouth and giving that one some soft kisses too. It’s poking through a gap in his bandages, pink and swollen, delectable. Dazai wriggles his hips and tries to keep moving you back and forth on his aching cock, the head catching on your entrance a few times but sliding harmlessly away, too covered in your wetness to give any sort of friction.

“Don’t be impatient,” you chastise him without any heat, sitting fully on his hips to stop him from moving around while you explore his chest to your heart’s content.

“At least don’t leave me hanging,” Dazai whines, looking straight at you with pleading eyes and a pretty pout.

You know he’s acting but that doesn’t make him any less pretty, or any less enticing. His lips are parted and you can see his chest rise and fall, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way his dark hair is spread in one perfect tangle all over the cushion. Your cheeks feel hot, and when his long hands grip your ass and move your hips back and forth you let him set the pace without much protest.

A whiny moan vibrates through Dazai’s chest as you wrap your mouth around his nipple again, one hand coming up to toy with the other one. You flick and pinch it, rolling the delicate bud between your fingers and biting gently on the other to make him jump. He’s shaking beneath you, his movements choppy as he ruts against your slick cunt and whines shamelessly.

“Hey- I’m-” Dazai pants, trying to warn you of something in a breathy voice.

His tone makes you grin, still rubbing firm circles into his nipple as you lean up and kiss his neck. His body tenses under you and you lick the underside of his jaw, taking some of the delicate skin between your teeth and applying barely enough pressure to leave a mark.

“Go on princess,” you whisper against his skin, pretty sure you know what’s going to happen.

That seems to do it for him as hot, sticky ropes of white paint his stomach. His cock twitches against you as he cums, thick spurts that seem to go on forever. Mesmerized, you drag two fingers through the mess and smear it across his skin, even rubbing the tip of his cock to cover it in a milky sheen. Dazai mewls and looks at you with wide eyes, a half smile of triumph on his face. He seems excited, and that only grows when you begin to move your hips again. He whines and squirms but doesn’t do anything to push you off, his stomach tensing with every slow roll of your hips.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting all this time?” You murmur, reaching out to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss.

Dazai groans, trying to shove his tongue past your lips and lick the roof of your mouth. His hands find your ass and squeeze appreciatively, his hips rolling almost instinctively against yours.

“You’re- enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Dazai pants, breaking away just enough to show you a cheeky smile before capturing your lips again.

You manage a noise of assent, too preoccupied with grinding against him just right, quick and shallow thrusts that rub your clit just right without the hood getting in the way. Your heart thumps in your chest and there’s a distinct coil of need growing in your stomach. Dazai’s mouth is sloppy and eager, his kisses landing on your cheeks and chin. He’s also getting close, if his eager pace and quiet whines are anything to go by.

“Again?” You ask just to make sure, reaching down between your bodies.

“One- one more,” He whines, hips bucking when your hand closes around his cock. His skin shines with sweat, almost making him glow beneath you.

His length slips inside you, hot and messy and making him buck his hips as you gasp in unison. His head falls back with a low groan, and you grit your teeth. He fits so comfortably, giving your cunt something to clench around without being thick enough to sting, a pleasant weight in your abdomen.

“Fuck- good, that’s it,” you gasp, gripping his chin again. “Look at me, princess.”

Dazais eyes are dark and flat, pupils blown, and he’s biting down on his chapped lip with a small furrow in his brow. He looks pretty enough for you to eat him whole. It only takes a few seconds of you grinding and rolling your hips before he makes a noise that’s all sorts of needy and you fight to keep your eyes from closing as your orgasm rips though you. You look down just in time to see his back arch, his mouth parting with a sweet cry, feet kicking behind you as his hands grasp the couch beside his head. Muscles tense your hips keep moving on their own, prolonging both your highs until you eventually collapse into the man beneath you.

Your legs burn when you finally stretch them out, lying on Dazai’s chest and finally letting yourself catch your breath, basking in the pleasant glow of release. He’s a bit cold to the touch but it’s soothing right now, especially when he puts one of his hands on your back. You can hear his heartbeat.

A phone rings from somewhere inside a pocket, halfway across the room. Before you can even grumble and try to get up, thin arms wrap around you and you find yourself trapped in Dazai’s surprisingly strong grip.

“Nnnnnooo…” he whines, throwing one leg clumsily over yours, “not yet….”

“Really?” You snort. “You’re going to pull a ‘five more minutes’ on me?”

He just laughs, giving you a squeeze. “I meant, I’m not done with you yet. Come on,” his voice turns a little whiny, pleading, “you’re not going to leave right now are you?”

“I guess not.”

#dazai.bsd #dazai x reader #dazai smut #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #I cant help but feel like tje ending is rushed 😭 the day i figure out good conclusions it's over for y'all

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aezuria · 2 days

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uptown girl!

"she's been living in her uptown world, i bet she's never had a backstreet guy" —billy joel

content: mortal au!leo valdez x reader

╰┈▸ info: stuck-up reader (she gets character development later), cursing, reader is ~18, early 2000s core

notes: stella finally posted a fic !? (pls tell me if u enjoy i need validation 😔)

this has got to be the worst way to start summer ever. first, your morning was ruined by a bird shitting all over your car window—not a mess you had the time nor the patience to clean. then, on your way to pick up your friends for some much needed girl time, your car had the fun idea of breaking down. great. it left you on the side of the road, dialing up your father. which, when you think about it, really wasn't your fault! your precious ride just spontaneously combusted or something. nothing to do with the fact that you've crashed the front about seven times since january. after all, you'd gotten them fixed! it should be the mechanic's fault. or maybe, this car was cursed!

but of course, your dad just had to disagree. apparently it was his "last straw."

you winced away from the phone's speaker as his voice burst through. "you have been so ungrateful lately! when you asked for that car, i bought it for you! i looked over the fact that you don't even have your license yet! all i asked was for you to take care of your things!" he cried. from the tone of his voice, you could imagine the creases dug into his forehead. okay, now you felt bad. just a little.

before you could apologize, he finished with, "you just wait until i get there, young lady."

leave it to him to take away your guiltiness.

"dad!" you watched in horror as the truck towed your light blue baby to god knows where. you turned your stricken expression on him, hoping to elicit at least a little bit of sympathy. but it seemed like his mind was made up on this one. dammit.

he crossed his arms sternly, putting his foot down. "let's go. we'll talk more in the house."

"-so you want to ship me away to some place crawling with bugs and creeps for the rest of the summer!?" you screeched along with the chair as its legs slid across the kitchen's tile floor.

your dad raised his hand in a placating gesture. "now, now, just until your car is fixed. it might not even be a whole month." he shrugged. yeah, real comforting. "and the city's a nice place. we lived there when you were young, remember?"

"no, i don't remember." you snapped. you did remember, but that brought on memories you'd rather not have right now.

he sucked in a breath. "alright then. it won't be so bad. we still have that apartment, and i got it cleaned up recently. it'll teach you some responsibility and independence." he nodded, satisfied with his decision.

you opened your mouth to snark at him again, but he continued, "and you won't be completely alone. there's a nice young man who will be fixing up your car, just down the street from the apartment building. i asked him to show you around when he has the time. and you'll have your phone, so make sure to call me, okay?" his strict behavior gave way to the soft spot you knew he had for you.

"...okay," you agreed reluctantly. once he really made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, so there was no use in arguing.

he smiled, patting your shoulder gently. "great. now pack your bags."

"be sure to buy groceries, and do the laundry, and clean every so often-" your father rambled on and on. if he was this worried, why wouldn't he just not go through with it? and why was he acting like you couldn't do basic chores!? it's not like you ever did them, but they couldn't be too hard, right?

"i get it dad." you rolled your eyes, staring out the car window. the buildings were all drab, painted in browns and grays, without a single bright color in sight, save for the red stop signs.

he pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the building. your insides recoiled. you swore it didn't look this... dilapidated all those years ago. or maybe you just had better taste now.

"we're here! looks like it's got a lot of.. character." he tried to cheer you up, but even you could tell he didn't think to check how it looked. it would've hurt too much to do so.

your lip scrunched in distaste. "i can't spend a single second in there."

"don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." with one last reassuring smile, he turned and left.

the apartment itself wasn't too bad, it was all cleaned up, just as your father had said. it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, pillows fluffed and spritzed with your room was cold despite the warmth that came with summer. the pristine sheets were unfamiliar against your skin, as if you were tucked into a hotel bed. the sound of tire rolling against pavement never ceased, people had places to go, places to be even in the dead of night. a draft through your window made you shiver. you should close that in the morning. you curled in on yourself like you did when you were little, only this time there was only the unfeeling fabric to hold you, instead of the warm, long forgotten embrace no one could quite replicate.

you cringed at the shoddy place your phone had led you to, and looked up at the peeling paint sign that read: valdez mechanics. how charming. you even debated touching the rusty doorknob, but it swung open before you could turn it. which would be nice, if it didn't almost smack you in the face.

"watch it!" you hissed, side-stepping in time to see a boy your age walking through. his hair was a mess, and there were grease stains all over his face and clothes. his fingers were tap, tap, tapping away at his leg, to the rhythm of the song blaring inside. you think he'd be cute if he wasn't so dirty.

“sorry ‘bout that!” he laughed sheepishly. he stared at you for a moment too long before asking, “you here for the thunderbird?”

“yes,” you said shortly.

he chose to ignore your clipped tone, flashing you a smile. “come on in then, yeah?”

you followed him into the tiny shop, already wanting to leave. the place smelled of oil, and you could barely find a clean place to sit on. there were tools thrown everywhere, the floor sticky with dried up grease.

“i’m leo, by the way.” his voice snapped you out of your judging thoughts as he led you to the back. you finally saw your car, propped up with the hood open.

“y/n.” you barely glanced at him as you rushed over, examining the damage. “so? what’s wrong with her?”

he gestured with the wrench in his hand—when’d he get that?—and pointed to the engine. “well that’s all busted up, so i’m gonna have to build a new one for ya. i’ll do you an oil change too and-“

“yeah um, how long will it take?” you interrupted, giving him a smile you did not want to have on.

“i’d say three to five weeks? depends if i have any other stuff that comes in so…”

three to five weeks of your summer wasted away here? when you’re supposed to be having the best time of your life before college!?

“are you serious? can you get it done sooner? i can pay you some more-“ you reached into your purse.

“whoa!” he caught your wrist. his hands were clean now, must’ve wiped them on a rag. “money won’t make me work faster, honey.” he let go and shrugged. “sorry.”

honey? “well then what will? cause i need to leave as soon as-“

“some help, maybe?”

you blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. “you want me to help you? the person who’s paying for all this?”

“technically, your father’s the one paying,” leo pointed out. “and y’know. you don’t have to help, of course. it just might make it go a bit quicker…” he trailed off, dimples poking through as he tried to hide a cheeky smile.

you huffed. “what do i have to do?”

”i am not sticking my hands in those.” you defied, shaking your head firmly.

leo scoffed, flapping the gloves around. “come on! this is the cleanest pair i have!”

"put this here?" you asked, shoving a part that you forgot the name of into an empty space.

"hm?" leo looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropping in horror. "no no no!"

"oh i know how to do this!" you exclaimed as he gave you a screwdriver. "my dad always said 'lefty loosey, righty tighty.'"

the boy nodded. "yeah! try it out." he pointed to a loose screw.

you successfully tightened it (to the right), giving him a proud smirk. "see?"

"yup." leo grinned at your enthusiasm, even though it was the most basic thing ever. "try and tighten the rest. i'll be right back."

a loud clatter made leo jump from across the repair shop. he rushed over to you, finding the parts that were supposed to be screwed together in complete disarray. "uh, maybe you shouldn't help..."

"really?" you deadpanned. "i hadn't noticed."

"sorry." he laughed. "scooch."

you pursed your lips. no one told you to "scooch" before. but you moved over anyway.

"wanna keep me company?" leo slid his gloves on and began putting the contraption back together.

no, you thought. but you didn't have anything better to do other than wander the city like a clueless idiot. and you hated looking like an idiot. "fine."

the shop was quiet, save for the occasional clanging as leo worked on the engine. his rambling was cut short as he focused on his work, something you didn't know he could do.

"nice car you got here. i've always wanted to drive one of these." he patted its side appreciatively. "where'd you buy this?"

scratch that. maybe he could only shut up in two minute increments.

"don't know. my dad bought it for me." you looked around, not even bothering to hide your boredom.

"right." leo laughed. you found he did that a lot. "must be nice."

your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "i guess?" what did he mean by that?

"i hate it here. it's so boring!" you complained over the phone. cooking dinner had been an absolute mess. “and that leo guy is so weird.”

"give him a chance, will you? he could show you around town, maybe teach you some manners…” you father muttered the last bit.

"what?"

"nothing! all i'm saying is give that boy a chance. who knows, he could be a great friend."

“‘great friend’ my… foot.”

#*ੈ✎ stories #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson

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munsonluhvr · 2 days

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HOW TO FAKE IT (PART 4)

this is the very last installment for this series. thank you all for reading and interacting with the series - I apologize for taking so long to write the last part but I am eternally grateful for your patience and kindness. I decided to make it short and sweet and only focus on the tension between the two characters.

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @frostandflamesfanfic @johnricharddeacy @yearningforsappho @marrowfrog00 @season4steve @mrssoapmactavish @definitelynotherr @micheledawn1975 @the-fairy-anon @alltoomay @plk-18 @siriuslysmoking

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The next morning, Steve woke up with a raging headache. He couldn’t even begin to think about what he was going to do as he sat up slowly from his bed, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. Instantly, he thought of you and the warmth he felt next to you as he woke up in your shared bed at the cabin over the weekend. He was almost surprised when he realized his body ached for yours next to him – nothing surprised him anymore.

After a minute, he rolled out of bed, swinging his legs to the side of his bed. He sighs, standing up, making his way towards the bathroom to brush his teeth and begin his day. Steve stares at himself, analyzing the way his bags have grown underneath his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks. For numerous hours, Steve stirred in his bed, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. The moonlight danced across the darkness, illuminating corners of his room. Flashes of his friendship with you over the years flashed in his mind, vivid memories of you laughing, the sun against the softness of your skin; all this time, Steve had been suppressing intense feelings for you.

On the other side of town, you were just as restless, and you’ve made that oh so obvious.

“Y/n?” Your mother says, her eyebrows creasing with worry. She watches closely as you lean across the tabletop against your elbow, your hand cradling your face, as you stir your cereal in endless circles, staring off into the distance. Your mind is clearly elsewhere. “Are you all right?”

You hum, shaking your head back into focus. “I am,” you say simply, not knowing how else to respond without giving away your worries.

She nods once, then turns to wash the dishes. You sigh softly to yourself, rubbing your temples with your fingertips, though the effort does not alleviate the tension in your mind.

Last night, you smiled your way into sleep, replaying the moment you and Steve’s lips brushed against each other’s. The tension was thick in the room, electric shocks invisible in the air but sharp enough for you to feel. You smack your lips together softly, remembering that when Steve leaned near, your heart pumped so hard that you began to taste metallic on your tongue.

It was worrisome, though exactly what you want, for Steve to reciprocate his feelings for you. What would happen to your friendship? You shake your head once more, knowing that it was simply a mistake and that you and Steve would return to normal shortly – it would all end fine.

You continue on your day, choosing to spend some time outside. You lounge in a chair that’s placed on your porch at the front of your house, letting your bare legs and toes soaked up the sunshine before it dips behind the clouds. Though you live on a quiet street, the few cars that pass by you bring you a little amusement, keeping you entertained as you sit outside – that is, until Steve arrives.

You see his car pull up, turning into your driveway smoothly. It’s his sunglasses you notice first, the big, dark frames taking up most of his face. Steve steps out of his car, wearing his pressed khaki pants and buttoned-up polo. “I texted you,” he said, excusing his abrupt arrival.

You shrug, lifting to show your empty hands. “I don’t have my phone, I left it inside.”

Steve nods, walking across your lawn to take a seat beside you. He pulls his sunglasses off, showing his brown eyes that dart over to you as he sits himself down. “Can we talk?” Steve asks, leaning back in the chair.

Your heart begins to beat fast; the metallic flavor begin to bud in your mouth again. “Of course. What is-” you begin to say but Steve interrupts you.

“-I love you, y/n. I’m embarrassed to say that it took us pretending to date for me to realize that, and I, of course, wish that I could have figured it out before it came to us fake dating and the whole cabin weekend.” Steve rambles, his eyes moving from you to off in the distance.

Your mouth slacks open slightly, his confession catching you off-guard. You thought that surely last night was just a mistake and that you would find a new normal after the weekend at the cabin and a near-kiss. You slump against your chair, following his line of sight. You inhale and then exhale, hoping the nerves dissipate. “Steve, I-“

“Let me finish, I have to get this off my chest” Steve says, turning back to you. “I care about you, far more than just being friends, and I sat awake all night last night thinking about you, and us, and our friendship; I-I know that being more than friends would put our friendship at risk, but I don’t think I can continue on being friends with you, knowing that my feelings for you are so deep.”

Steve takes a break, pausing only for a second before he begins speaking again. Before he can speak, you interrupt him. “Steve, I love you too,” you say, your heart continuing to thump aggressively against your chest. Nearly instantly, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders.

“You do?” Steve says, his eyebrows furrowed together.

You can’t help but laugh and shake your head. “Yes, Steve.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Steve leans towards you, closing the distance between you. Gently, his lips collide with yours and you taste his lips that rest against yours. You hum softly, leaning into Steve’s mouth. His fingers intertwine with locks of your hair, inching you closer to him. Your own hand reaches out, cradling Steve face. You lose track of time, the sound of the cars passing by are drowned out Steve’s lips wiping away all your senses.

Gently, Steve pulls away from you, his lips now hovering over yours. He had a curious smile on his face, his brown eyes sparkling against the afternoon sun. “You know you're mine now, right?" Steve says confidently, his smile beginning to grow. "Do you think people will believe we’re dating this time around?”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem

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jungle-angel · 2 days

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Hot And Bothered (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: A pretty nasty heat wave has just hit Wabang but you and Rhett will always find a way to keep cool

Warnings: Naked snuggling

Tagging: @floydsmuse @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia

You were forever and eternally grateful that school had gotten out just before Memorial Day. A heat wave had already settled over the entirety of Wyoming and Montana and was due to last for close to a month. You, yourself had worried since you and Rhett both had to take a two week long summer course work for your teaching licenses at the Amelia County Steiner School and wouldn't be able to go swimming just yet.

You were in the midst of getting some things together for the week when Rhett came stumbling through the door, his face, neck and chest dangerously red from the heat and his hair clinging to his skin as he sank to the floor.

"Rhett?" you asked him. "Rhett honey are you ok?"

"So fuckin hot," he panted, his head resting against the doorframe. "Wanna cool off so bad."

"Here, come on upstairs and we'll get you settled," you said, helping him up.

As soon as you were upstairs, you laid Rhett right down in your shared bed, wiping him down with a cold, wet rag. You unbuttoned his dark blue shirt and laid your head on his sweaty chest, his heart beating fast and strong in your ear. Rhett gently stroked your hair as you listened to the bathtub filling up, neither of you daring to move until you needed to go and shut off the water.

You helped him strip off his sweaty clothes, throwing them in the laundry hamper and helping him into the cool bath. "Thank you baby," he sighed, kissing your lips.

You giggled a little as you helped him wash all that sweat and grime off of him, gently washing his hair and squeezing out the water and soap. When you could resist it no longer, you stripped off and got in with him enjoying the little afternoon cool-off, made even better when you and Rhett crawled into your shared bed together, naked and eagerly exploring each other's bodies.

"Nice and cool now cowboy?" you chuckled.

"We'll have to do this again tomorrow," Rhett yawned. "Heard it's supposed to be fuckin hot all month and into July."

You laughed a little as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You couldn't wait to do it all again the next day.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range

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veninorchid · 2 days

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Bridgerton S3 Review

Dearest gentle reader, I am disappointed, sadly.

And as I respect your opinion, so too, shall you respect mine. I'm not here to bash on #Polin fans and the fact that they enjoyed it, but what -was- season 3 of Bridgerton truly?

I love the Mondriches, but do they really need so much screen-time? What did their own ball add to the story exactly? Had the same feeling about the Dankworth-Finch ball at the end, but at least that one proved its necessity as -the reveal all- ball. Because there was of course no Duke of Hastings (Simon) to host it, so they improvised.

This season had too many stories going on at the same time which were all fighting for the spotlight when it should've focused on #Polin, cause that is what was advertised/hyped. It did not deliver…

Season 1 - Daphne and Simon They had the most screen-time and all other stories got a little bit of shine. But even then some of those had either Daphne or Simon in the picture/background. (Marina-Colin, with Daphne as chaperone is one of the examples) None of the other stories distracted from the main focus.

Season 2 - Kanthony Same here. While there was a lot going on in this season with Anthony courting Edwina and going all the way to the alter with her (creative license, since it didn't happen in the book) and then on the other hand we were seeing the other side with his having the thickest desire and longing for Kate. You could cut that shit with a knife, I tell you. But no side stories were overpowering. It was 90% lead character -stuff. Season 3 - Benedict---, I mean #Polin -minus the actual #Polin Were their (the directors/screenwriters) initial thoughts that we've been seeing them for 2 seasons, so we don't have to pay that much attention to the leads? Wrong! That was friendship, this is love, longing and passion. So much new ground to explore for these two. Little scenes like dancing in the church, stealing loving glances is cute and all, but we got nothing more than that. Nothing memorable.

No wait, we got carriage frolicking in part 1 and a mirror first time in part 2. You're right, I apologize. Anything else? Name any other thing you remember from this whole season. I'll wait, seriously.

Did maybe the night scene come up in your memories? Where they had an angry make out and he once again let his hand venture below? I felt the anger/passion in the coming together and pushing her against the shop, sure. The quick flash of him reaching between her thighs was more of a recycled scene from episode 4 or even from S03 Kanthony. I mean honestly. Was there really even a chance he'd take her in the streets? It felt unnecessary and forced. The dialogue was good and would've been better at their home where it's believable they could enter an intimate scene that -could- be finished if they so wanted it. Or not if his anger won over his desire. Did I mention they were both drinking before they met? I didn't say drunk, I said drinking.

I guess they improvised the whole Mme Delacroix scene (before the angry make out) with her offering advice and booze just to give Pen a reason to drink and coincidentally be in Colin's path for the scene? Wasted screen-time. Do I also need a drink to feel the -love- this season?

First part, Colin helping and chasing Pen. Second part, let's ignore and distance myself from her. They really stretched out Colin's pulling back from her because of the whole Whistledown thing, when they could've done fast forwards, saying things like 'Colin, it's been weeks. Or it's been so long, can we get passed this' just to show the time frame. But instead we get long minutes of silence and ignoring each other. Filming Colin from the back, zooming in. Then from the front zooming in. Then him watching her leave the house, slowly getting up from sleeping on the sofa, walking towards his desk. Lifting and opening and reading her old letters. Do you have any idea how long that feels? When she exited the bedroom and delivered her dialogue he could've already been behind his desk. Did we see Simon (S01E02) walk into the room, open his father's desk, take out the unopened letters etc.? No, the flashback ends with him already seated and holding the letters. Same thing could've been done here.

Oh, let's not forget side character-stuff. Let's talk more about that.

Again, I cannot stress it enough. Mondriches. Duke of Kent stuff and moving up, is fine. Seeing them struggle constantly onscreen is not. Wasted screen-time. You can easily have us hear about that in conversation. How miserable and sad he is because he had to close the bar when he became part of the ton. So many ways to handle that. Moving to part 2. Why did we have to get the whole preparation for their ball? What did it add to the story exactly? Just let everyone arrive at the ball and let that be the first we all see of the decorations. Did we see Lady Danbury prepare for the huge conservatory ball in S2? Lady Trowbridge's ball in S1? All of Her Majesty's balls? No, so it was wasted screen-time.

Francesca's story was sweet, bless her, but also unnecessary detailed. Was it the autism angle they were trying to push forward? I'm all for it, but only when you have a series with more than 8 episodes. (God, I miss 22 episode series) Because she is still a side character in #Polin's book, no matter which way you turn it. At Francesca's wedding we had the whole vows scene and everything and the two LEADS!!!! were stealing glances at each other while standing behind the whole ass family. You're the leads, act like it! It felt like S1 and S2 with them being in the background.

We all know Bridgerton's known for taking liberties with the wardrobe. The tailored waists for Pen enhance her body beautifully, but Cressida's wardrobe is bordering… scratch that! has taken a 250 MPH free-fall, into ridiculousness. I also absolutely did not care for -seeing- the reasons behind Cressida claiming to be Whistledown. Should've just kept her as a bitch. That's what we enjoyed about her. Fine, you decided on that development for her character, so here's an idea. She was so chummy with Eloise. Could've just had her tell Eloise that she was being pressured by her parents to marry and then being send to the country to live with a horrid aunt. Wasted screen-time. You only have 8 episodes to work with for crying out loud.

And then there's the side character of all side-characters. Benedict. Didn't they make the very -deliberate- decision to push back Benedict and Sophie's story in favor of #Polin as S3? To then give me so much useless Bentilly sexy time; Time that could've easily been given to #Polin things. If you can make up stories about him being confused as to his sexuality, you can just as easily come up with new, none book, stories for the actual leads. Could've left everything they forced on us about Benedict for his actual season. What's gonna be left for his own season? Wasted screen-time. Should've made him absent, continue the art-school in the background, anything. I mean, an extended honeymoon for Kanthony instead of a forced story to have them onscreen. Do the bloody same for Benedict and focus on #Polin. Every time we saw Benedict, he was playing twister with Tilly and later with what's his name (don't even care) It's not relevant, it's wasted screen-time.

I'm gonna end my review (rant!) with one last thing.

Shallow kisses. Heck it's acting, so you don't have to shove your tongue down your co-actor's throat, but keep your lips open and hollow out your mouth to at least make us think you're playing tongue-twister. As soon as their lips touched, they closed their mouths and it became a fervent peck-fest. Like kissing air and practicing in front of a mirror. Yes, they look good kissing each other, but the kissing itself was bleh.

First kiss in part 1 was going the right direction and was pretty believable, but after that… shallow as f*ck. And to think they were supposed to be increasing in passion after that first kiss. All of them were closed-mouth pecks, I'm sorry. Was it the height-difference that didn't allow them to actually suck each other's face off? ---------------

I will not do a TL;DR, because if you skip this review/rant, you will not have missed anything. Have a great day people.

Yours truly, Venin Orchid (aka Lady Regency-nerd) PS: did anyone notice the nice touch at the end? The Whistledown Silhouetted lady on the top of the page had been changed to look more like Penelope. You're welcome <3

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #kanthony #regency #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton season 3 spoilers

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blingblong55 · 8 hours

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LOML -Simon "Ghost" Riley

Photo credit: @ave661 ---- F!Reader, angst, breakup ----

The love of your life is something so beautifully tragic that the beginning seems as if it's haunting you. Two thousand one hundred and 90 days where the rollercoaster of him made you feel a wave of emotions. Who would've thought that now all you can think about is waltzing to his arms, to revive the death of something that can't be brought back to life? It's so beautifully dead.

But who can stop you from not trying to bring it back to life when you know all the steps to resuscitatesomeone...something?

As you sit by the window, you watch the wind guide the willow tree branches as if another sign of a haunting memory.

"What are you doing lovie?" Simon says as he rests his head on your shoulder. You sit there, embroidering his and your initials on a jumper. "Just something to wear when you're away or when I'm away," you mention so casually as you can feel his gaze on you. Isn't it so tragic how his gaze spoke with so much love, how his hands held you and caressed your body but now all you feel is the ghost of his love just watching you from a corner as you cry in bed to the wall?

You and he were so young when this love affair started, matured together, experienced trials and tribulations and now you're there, holding a piece of something he'll never come back for.

He always told you that he wanted you for the long run and it's stupid how you laugh at that as tears run down. Who was going to tell you the road was short? Not your foolish heart, it was never going to let you know of the 'Dead End' signs. You told him each time, "I don't mind it, it takes time and I'll wait, Simon." Oh, what a fool you must've been back then. You look at the jumper with a haunting laugh that tells you of all the failures you made. But for a moment, you felt safe, you were taken hostage to his failing love and even if you were blinded it was a safe place for your hopeless romantic heart.

The feelings he gave you were never this way before and they won't be the same since the day he left.

Oh, but a fool can hope.

A fool can picture the life that was never given. A fool falls so deep down this Alice in the wonderland-like place that when reality comes back, the world turns dull.

Who is to be loved again? Why must his arms, his laugh and those inside jokes no one will understand feel like bullets that will never be extracted? This is a bleeding heart.

When can you stop mourning a dead love? You went from him kissing you with all his might to picturing him waiting for you down the aisle. Will it ever stay alive after this heartache? When can you bury the dead love that never bloomed into the happily ever after? When is the right time to host a wake for it? Can it be buried so easily? And if there is a wake for this love, will he be there? Will he wear a suit and tie and watch as you cry, as you wear all black, as you throw flowers at the casket?

Why must he be so cruel!? He told you truths, right? Your fingertips run over his initial, "You said I'm the love of your life about a million times," you say, reminiscing on the death of something so... captivating.

"I love you, Y/N."

"i LOVE you, Y/N."

"i love YOU, Y/N."

"Love you, lovie"

"I love you"

"I loveeeee you!"

"LOVE YOU!"

"i love you."

"I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!"

"God you're the love of my life, lovie."

"You're the one for me, Y/N"

"You're my lifeline, you know that, lovie?"

Who was to scream in your face the truth and nothing but the truth? Who was to inform you of its death? When the oh-so-expensive paintings he hung up on the home you shared turned out to be fake, who was going to say the love he held high was to be long-lasting? And if it wasn't long-lasting, then who was going to argue against the counterfeit feelings a con man gave you?

It was meant to last for centuries but instead, all the love he gave you and the life he threw away would only turn out to be folk stories that will be told to some fools as warnings.

When all goes from colour to black and white like the films he oh so enjoyed alongside you during winter storms, who will save you and bring you back to life?

---- "Lovie, I'm home," he says as he drops his bags on the floor by the door. "Y/N?" He calls again and you creep from the stairs with caution. Once your eyes meet him, he smiles and walks up to you, engulfing you in his arms. This is all you need, all that a hopeless romantic like you needs is him and his sweet words.

---- "I'll marry you, I swear that I will and when I do, I will do anything to keep you," he says before kissing your forehead.

---- At dinner he holds your hand under the table, and watches as his mates talk but when he looks at your adorable face and then he leans in and kisses your cheek.

----

Were there signs all along?

You can see it, the piano plays, and he waits for you as you walk to him in a dress that calls for you to become the centre of attention. You can nearly hear the vows he'd say. The nervous glances he'd steal and how he'd smile from how anxious and excited he was to finally say he has a woman like you turned into his wife and his forever best friend.

You shut your eyes, wishing to forget about all the times you were so close to being his missus. God, why must forgetting him be torture? You almost had it all with him. Picket fence, family dog, children's laughter and him chasing the kids around the backyard.

----

"Simon!" you laugh as he carries you to the kitchen. Three hours of laughter, cooking, wine-filled glasses, kisses, side hugs, words of affirmation and yet, no one but you was more love-struck in that moment. Looking back, you have second-hand embarrassment from all the times you swore he was your all.

----

Your sobs shut the memories down.

Three days passed, and he never came back for any of his belongings.

One month of staying in your home. One whole fucking month where all you did was walk around the walls you once saw the love drip down from. One month where all you did was stay in bed, barely eat and stay in silence when all the tears ran out whilst the numbness fills your soul.

Is it time to move on? But to move on from the love of your life is the toughest thing one weak heart can't do so easily. The counterfeit feelings died...so why are you still staying at the cemetery?

Oh darling, don't lift that shovel. You can't unbury and check the pulse of someone...something that died three months ago. Let it rest, the road is dead and so is it. But if you look at the headstone maybe it'll bring some relief.

----

"Don't leave, okay?" you ask through teary eyes after waking from a terrible dream. "I'll never leave, lovie," Simon says as he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

----

What a stupid fucking goodbye. Why must it be so colourless? But then again, he loves black-and-white films.

----

"But...you promised, Si," you ask through teary eyes. "I'm sorry, lovie– Y/N," he corrects himself. "Simon you said you'd never leave, what happened?" you ask and by then, all he knew died and he looked at you with cold eyes. "Never mind all that," he grabs his coat and you watch him leave.

----

That day, that gloomy day will be engraved in your memory. Even now when you sit by that same window you still see it. Simon Riley was the love of your life and now, he is the loss of your life.

Y/N & Simon

2018-2024

Lovers, friends, a peaceful place where two people hid.

A tragic Shakespearean story that now is buried under a weeping willow tree.

Tags: @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @Ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @ikohniik @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @nobodys-coffee @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate @azkza

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moodymisty · 14 hours

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Hi i have a request yandere lorgar x f reader (9 ,47,45,42)

Reader decides to support lorgar more after seeing the mental state of him after the burning of monarchy,lorgar starts to become more and more obsessed with her to the extent of treating her like a goddess , he wants to always have her by his side he doesn't want to lose more things in his life.

( idea inspired by roroco316's recent drawing https://www.tumblr.com/roroco316/746301636466589696/the-annunciation-warning-very-hereical-yes-the?source=share )

Sorry for the bad English I'm using an online translator.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: I love that art so much, so I hope this in a way provides a similar vibe?

Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Tokophobia, Pregnancy, Does it still count as breeding kink if you’re already pregnant and he gets off on that?, Possessive, Praise Kink, Overstimulation

"Lorgar?"

You cautiously walk into his study and gently call out, peeking your head into to see where he is.

A few moments later you notice him on the far side of the room, looking out one of the large windows at the darkness, spattered with only a few stars. He turns shortly after hearing your voice, and gives a small, pained but pleased smile.

"Ahh, my little goddess. What are you doing up?"

Having successfully tested his mood and found it safe you come in, the door closing behind you. Your more casual, plain nightclothes are at odds with his decorated study, even if it pales in comparison to the one he had on Monarchia.

But that's nothing but ash now. All of those tomes, scrolls, tapestries, memories, gone.

The Fidelitas Lex is now your permanent home, after everything.

"I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to come see you."

There's a myriad of reasons you could blame for your inability to sleep; The only just concluded razing of Monarchia and your sudden transplant onto the Word Bearers flagship, or your growing child; Which has constantly caused you to feel ill up until recently. You absentmindedly brush your hands over your still somewhat subtle belly at the thought.

“I thought maybe seeing you for a bit help.”

You keep shaking and your mind is still racing even days later; It’s preventing you from getting much rest at all. Lorgar softens at your comment and beckons you closer with a hand.

"Come here then, I'd love for nothing more than for you to sit with me for bit."

You walk closer and he moves to sit down on his large chair, lifting you into his arms and sitting you in his lap sideways. It lets you rest your back against his right arm, legs going across his lap.

Taking his left hand he gently brushes it over your shoulder before he rests it on your belly, silently thinking. During it all however, he consciously avoids your arms, and his brow furrows for a moment when he sees your sleeves have ridden up to expose more of your skin.

Your arms and hands still have burns on them from when the invading Ultramarines set the entire palace ablaze, intent to smoke out anyone inside.

They'll heal, its the mental wounds you're far more worried about. For Lorgar more than yourself.

Apparently Lorgar had been not unlike a raging beast when he realized you were still trapped inside, and only managed to calm himself when you'd return to him, Word Bearers at your side. They’d hauled themselves through flames to get you if not only to then plead for their primarch to retreat; as even their legion mother was not worth losing their primarch and everything he had built.

Lorgar speaks up; His voice is quiet, but you can hear it fine in your little bubble.

"To think I almost lost you... Both of you," Lorgar moves his hand from your stomach to cradle your jaw. "I don't know what I would've done. You are my guiding light."

His grip is firm, holding you close as if afraid you'll leave, or be nearly ripped from his arms again. You gently touch his arm.

"I was afraid I was never going to see you again."

Lorgar's face softens, looking down at you.

"Don't worry. I will never allow that to happen again." You grasp at his clothing and pull yourself upward, him leaning down to gently press his lips to your own. The angle is still awkward with his height, but you just manage it.

The look in his eyes is dark when he pulls away, staring down at you as you lay so small in his lap. His tone of voice seems to change as does is attitude; He’s been even more mercurial as of late, to at least given circumstances it isn’t entirely surprising.

“They were all jealous of me, you know that?”

You at first don’t know who he means by that, but his latter statement adds some clarity. “They were all jealous of the world I built, the things I wrote, created,” Lorgar removes his hand from your jaw with a gentle caress, before trailing downward.

“They were all so jealous I found you, someone so beautiful, who understood me,”

His hand rests on your thigh and grabs the fabric of your dress, pulling it upward. Thankfully any cuts and bruises there have healed, since Monarchia. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you shiver from the air against your once covered skin, and Lorgar puts his warm palm against your thigh.

“Perhaps if they weren’t so intent on killing one another, they would have found love.”

You sense a subtle jab at Guilliman, who had not only been one of the more vocal Primarchs against Lorgar having a lover so close and intertwined with his legion, but as well as having tried to kill all that he loved by razing Monarchia.

Lorgar's hand slips between your legs, spreading your thighs across his own as his right arm still cradles you close to him. His fingers brush over your outer lips and instinctively your knees try to close, but you can’t with his large hand in the way.

“You’re already so wet,” He mutters as if in a way teasing you. “I know I haven’t been accommodating to you, as of late.” Your bed has been quite cold without him, too busy commanding his legions movement after the Ultramarine’s devastation and his newfound disgust for the Emperor.

But he still had you, he had said; All to himself. The news of you being with child had still been fresh in his mind happening only days before Monarchia was up in flames. It only seemed to further his possessiveness of you.

"I have always thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world," Your hands grip his clothing deathly tight, trying to hold yourself steady. "But something about you and our child, you keep getting more beautiful by the day."

His index finger slowly sinks into you, curling upward as he fully sheathes it inside of you. The way you’re sitting sideways, you don’t have much options to move, and so you’re stuck writhing in his lap as he has his way with you.

"Lorgar..." He makes you feel good, you want more, but you can't help but feel as if something is off. Nothing you can speak of to him, as you lean into his arm and your heart hammers against your chest. Your thighs quiver and shake as he slips a second finger into you, stretching you just enough to get the friction you needed.

You've been so sensitive since getting pregnant, it's not long before he makes you cum on his fingers. You cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your noises despite the room being empty apart from the two of you.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, but doesn't completely remove his hand from between your thighs. Instead as you feel your muscles twitch from the aftershocks he presses his finger against your clit, causing your hips to jerk from the suddenly overwhelming sensation. Within moments you're whining even louder than you had been earlier, the sudden overstimulation nearly too much for you to handle.He gently rubs, slowly pressing and rolling with his fingers before he eventually decides to slip them back into you, but he doesn't get much farther beyond just barely pressing against your entrance.

A firm knock on the door startles you, but Lorgar almost seemed to have been prepared for it. Perhaps he heard them coming, long before the knock.

“...Primarch Lorgar? You’re needed on the bridge.”

Lorgar pulls his soaked hand from between your thighs, and wipes it off on his clothing as he turns to look over his shoulder at the still unopened door. His other arm still holds you closer to him.

But while he is irritated by the interruption, you know that Lorgar enjoys the suffering, in a way. You know once his duties are done he’ll find you again and finally satisfy himself, after he’s waited so long it aches.

“Very well. I will be there in a moment.” Lorgar gently ushers you to your feet, hands hovering as if doubtful you won't fall.

“I can walk still, Lorgar.” You joke at him, and he smiles back.

“I know, I only worry.” His hand drifts across your jawline, before he stands fully upright; You notice him softly adjust the fabric of his trousers.

“I will finish with whatever they have for me, and then I will return to you. Get some rest in the meantime, I urge you.” You nod, crossing your arms gently.

Lorgar’s eyes are soft, but there’s a darkness in them you catch.

“But do be ready for me by then.”

#Lorgar x reader #lorgar Aurelian x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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itsmewillful · 12 hours

Text

I will Always Find You

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist:

(Vox x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5782 (i got too carried away)

Outline: You, the wife of the infamous media overlord Vox, falls from Heaven and you find yourself in a chaotic new world. You meet the Hazbin Hotel crew, but most of all, you met him. Your long lost love.

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, language, etcetera.

A/N: Heyy guys, I totally was not gone for an entire year. . .but, I'm done with High School now so I will probably start posting a little bit more often. . .*no promises though. my memory is absolute garbage*

Also, why am I obsessed with a TV?

Story below the cut:

Heaven.

The place all virtuous and 'perfect' people ascend to after living the life every good person is meant.

You don't even know how you got here. You always thought that you would go to Hell. (Not to put it lightly) Perhaps it was because you were widowed at a rather young age. Perhaps it was because you were murdered by your late husband's arch rival. Or maybe, it was a bit of all.

Your life on earth wasn't bad per se. In fact, you had a very happy life. You got married at the fruitful age of 20, to your best friend, and lived in a very comfortable home. Your husband, Vincent Holland, was a big-time news reporter in your hometown.

But, why was it in Heaven that almost all your memories regarding Vincent were blurry? As if someone with significant power was preventing you from reminiscing on your past life?

You could barely remember his face; his award winning smile. His sapphire blue eyes, and his dark hair.

You hated this.

You couldn't even remember how long ago you died.

Hell, you couldn't even remember how you died. Just that you were murdered one day and your body was left to rot in a random alley.

A hand waving in front of your face interrupted your sad train of thoughts, and your attention immediately shifted back to your friend. Or acquaintance, you weren't exactly sure where your friendship status lay.

"You alright there, partner?"

You sighed slowly and nodded your head in affirmation. You weren't sure if you were doing it to convince them that you were okay, or yourself.

"I'm alright, Kai, just a bit tired ," you mumbled pathetically. Kai was a very beautiful shark-like angel. You met them some time ago and instantly clicked with one another. But, Kai was one of those people that had a tendency of gossiping with their girlfriend Molly. And you were never comfortable sharing anything beyond your life in Heaven.

Which was a pity because you were sure if you shared it, you wouldn't feel so fucking stressed out.

The shark angel let out a small laugh and gently patted your head.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say m'lady. You know if there's anything bothering you, you could always talk to me or Molly, right?"

You again nodded your head, even though you probably would never take up the offer.

"Hey you guys! How are you both doing?"

Speak of the devil and he shalt appear.

"Hey Molly! I see you're finally off of work?"

"Yup! And I brought a treat for you both!" Molly said in a sing-song tone of voice. Kai smiled with a nearly evil-like grin and made grabby hands at their girlfriend.

"Gimme, I can smell the baked goods!"

You chuckled at Kai's antics and stood up from the chair you were sitting in. Kai raised a brow at you and you motioned with your hand that you were going to get another drink. You picked up your now empty whisky bottle and began to head over to the bar where you and Kai find yourselves frequently whenever you both have had a long day at work.

The bartender, Mr Smiles (as Molly so lovingly named him) greeted you with a very drunken smirk when you arrived at your favourite destination.

"Hello there, Mrs. Holland. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You rolled your eyes and sat down on one of the barstools, placing your cup down and sliding it over to the bartender.

"Another, please." you said simply. Mr. Smiles blinked at you before grabbing your cup and pouring more of the golden liquid into it.

"The 'Another' for the lady." he said cheekily, to which you giggled. You snatched the cup up from the table and practically downed the strong liquid and forced back a gag when it burned your throat. The bartender chuckled at your silliness and leaned over the bar so you could hear each other better over the loud chatter of the Cloud Nine bar. (You and Kai always found the name of the bar to be hilarious)

"So, you never drink this much unless you have something to spill. Need to talk about something sweetheart?" he asked with a patient tone of voice.

You sighed dramatically and leaned back against your chair, deep in thought.

"I just. . ." you trailed off in thought before sighing again in annoyance at your capability of explaining your biggest problem.

"You just?" he tried to urge you to continue, but was rudely interrupted when a flock of angels came bursting into the room.

"His Holiness, Archangel Michael needs to discuss important matters in Town Square. Everyone present is required to make an audience immediately."

Murmurs began to fill the room in confusion of the sudden announcement. You raised your brow at the bartender, quietly asking him if he knew what all the commotion was about. He shrugged before continuing on with putting the remaining glasses away.

"Hey, partner, we need to head out to Town Square." Kai said, putting a webbed hand onto your shoulder. You nodded and stood up, following close behind your two buddies. Molly, like always, had a small hop to her step as if she was always happy and excited about things. Her partner smiled at her giddiness and soon began to also skip along with her.

Oh, how much you missed being able to have someone to be close with. And once again, your thoughts began to turn back to your late husband, Vincent.

You missed him so much.

And you were fully aware that your beloved Vincent was in Hell. The place you were also sure to go to when you kicked the bucket. But alas, here you are, in the city of silver and gold.

You stopped abruptly when you reached Town Square and noticed how big of a crowd was already there. Thousands of angels and souls alike, all stood cramped up around a huge balcony that belonged to Archangel Palace.

The chatter began to quiet down when the all-loved Archangel Michael stepped up to the balcony and waved to the crowd to silence their speech.

Kai bent over to you and whispered about how interesting things were going to get. You didn't respond, but instead gasped when a photo got projected onto the side of one of the Palace's huge spires. It was a really bloody scene: demonic-like creatures were sprawled all over the ground, torn to shreds from what you could tell. What made you feel faint, however, was the carcuses of angels. What the fuck were angels doing in Hell?

It seemed that a lot of other people were questioning the same exact thing, and Michael, once again announced order from the crowd and the only sound remaining were the hushed whispers.

"It has come to my knowledge that a secret organisation has been founded without my permission. Adam, the first man, and Sera, have been discovered sending down angels every year to kill them." He stopped mid explanation and waved his hand over to an angel that stood close to him. A scroll was placed into Michael's hands, and he unscrolled it and began to read whatever was written onto it.

"According to the words of Sera: Hell has become too overpopulated, and a risk of war could arise. Exterminations have been a necessity, and is, therefore required to keep balance between Good, and Evil." Michael immediately crumpled up the scroll, and threw it back at the poor angel that was beside him to catch.

"This is all tyranny, of course. Me and the Council did not agree to such lunacy, which is why, we are going to have a public vote as to whether or not Sera should be ex-communicated from Heaven."

A loud gasp came from the crowd.

Especially from Molly, who also seemed to begin to tear up.

"That means she'll be thrown to Hell!" she choked back a sob in surprise. Kai patted their girlfriends back to try and sooth her large and soft heart.

You, however, were enraged from the idea of angels going down and killing people. Your beloved Vincent was down there. What if he was killed?!

And like always, your spiral of thoughts was interrupted when Michael began to speak again.

"Just to be absolutely clear, this is never to be discussed with anyone ever again. After the vote is casted, anyone caught discussing this topic will immediately be casted from Paradise, and into the pits of Hell for treachery. I cannot be clear enough."

Murmurs filled the Square as everyone agreed to Michael's proposal.

"Great! Well, everyone better head off to vote now! Have a great day everyone." And like that, he vanished in a cloud of golden smoke.

You didn't realise your jaw was hanging open until Kai mentioned that you looked like a venus-fly trap waiting for a bug to land in your mouth. You clamped it shut instantly and glared at them.

"Chill! It was just supposed to be a joke!" They huffed in faux offence. Molly giggled at her partner's antics, and gently rubbed her fingers in between Kai's fins that decorated their body.

"Calm down, love. We need to head to a voting booth so we can cast votes. I know what I'm voting for."

"Yeah, I can't believe such a thing was happening behind our backs! Who knows how long it has been going on?"

Molly sighed and rubbed her fuzzy face for comfort.

"I don't know, but I hope it wasn't for too long. I believe some of my family is down there."

"Yikes, that's tough. I'm sorry for that." Kai said with sympathy laced in their voice.

You blinked back tears that were forming in your eyes. You would not cry over the possibility that your Vincent was double-dead.

You were strong.

+++

You sighed heavily when you arrived at your small apartment later that evening.

"What a rotten day," you mumbled to yourself. As if on command, your pet land-shark Vark came running into the foyer. You smiled instantly and picked up the little creature and began to pet him between his eyes.

You and Vincent loved sharks. It was a shared passion you both had that made you best friends instantly. When you first got married, you both always joked of getting a shark and naming it Vark.

Well, you had the shark, just not Vincent.

You were thinking about him again, and it was making you feel bad once more.

Why couldn't you remember some things? Who or what was making you forget?

You placed Vark back onto the ground, who of course, whined with the lack of affection from your part. You stepped over the land-shark and headed over to your balcony, that had a perfect view of the Embassy of Heaven. The place you go to whenever you have questions regarding the after-life and anything else.

Maybe there you would find answers.

With a new destination in mind, you grabbed Vark's leash and hooked him up to it. Vark began to wag his tail (well, his fin) in excitement about where you would be taking him. You smiled again at your pet's adorable-ness and began to head back outside once more.

The streets of Heaven were very peaceful. Just about no soul was out and about. It made sense since it was rather late. Around eleven o'clock actually.

Soon, the golden pillars of the Embassy came into view, and you let out a sigh when you realised it was still open. You approached the heavy double doors and swallowed back a scream when they opened up automatically. Vark found it hilarious however, when you just about died a second time from a mini heart attack.

You huffed at your shark and headed inside the golden-themed building and found that it was practically empty. I mean-duh it was empty, it was basically in the middle of the night.

A Cherub, from the looks of it, approached you and gave you a rather judgmental look over.

"Honey, I'm sorry to say this but no pets are allowed." the Cherub said with an irritating tone of voice.

You stared at the flying goat-creature and rolled your eyes.

"Vark, is a service pet. I am afraid you can't throw him out." you lied with a fake smile. One thing that Vincent taught you to do well, was fake things. You were especially good at putting on a fake show. One of the things that, once again, surprised you that Heaven looked over.

Wasn't lying a big sin?

The Cherub interrupted your thoughts when she cleared her throat rather obnoxiously.

"Alright honey. Whatever you say. To what do I owe the pleasure of assisting you with this evening?"

"Oh, well. . .I am not so sure how to explain it." you answered truthfully; slightly cringing at your lack of effort of just telling her.

The Cherub pulled out a clipboard from thin air you assumed (since she most certainly wasn't holding one earlier) and began to scribble something onto it.

"Well, Mr. Heart will be able to assist you with whatever, 'complicated' issue you have got going on." She handed you a piece of paper that had practically illegible handwriting on it, and pointed to a corridor that led to a couple of office rooms.

"Hope you find what you need, honey. Good night." and like that, she sauntered off to what you assumed to be her office. What a weird person, you thought with a click of your tongue.

You began your tread to Mr. Heart's office, and stopped when you reached the door. You lifted your hand to knock but stopped when the door was flung open and a rather energetic angel stepped out of the room.

"Hey there! You must be one of the 'poor souls' Chili sent to me! Come on in!" he moved aside and held a hand out for you to shake, to which he practically tore off yours when he shook it rather rigorously.

"The name is Heart! What's yours m'lady?"

You mumbled your name back and he let out a very loud laugh.

"Why, Mrs. Holland! Quite the pleasure to be meeting you!"

You nodded your head and held back a gasp when he pulled you by the hand into the office.

"So, tell me what has troubled you enough to venture here so late in the night?"

You opened your mouth to begin speaking, but clamped it down when you couldn't find the right words to say. Damn it, you were nervous. You couldn't, however, pinpoint if it was from the very very close proximity of the Angel, or the lack of knowledge of how to explain your memories being jumbled up.

You could begin by telling the angel to take a few hundred steps back.

"Sorry, but um, could you step back a bit?" You asked with a shaky breath. The Angel smiled with pearly white teeth, but didn't seem to move an inch.

"I can't hear you clearly if I am too far back. It is best if I stay here." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. (or Heaven)

You nodded, even though you doubt that was the truth. You mentally noted to never come back here again once you're down getting some answers.

"So, I have a question." You began.

"Everyone that comes here has questions. But I can't exactly be sure that your question is legal to answer or not."

Your eyes widened in curiosity. Some questions could be illegal to ask? Flashbacks from today's event clouded your thoughts, but you immediately shook them away. A traitor is how you would be viewed if you discussed with anyone about today. And you would be quite foolish to bring it up with an official member of the Council.

"So, you were saying, Mrs. Holland?"

"Why am I not able to remember some things about my life on Earth?" You may as well pull off the bandage and stop dancing around the bush in fear of being judged. Your worries worsened when the Angel's eyes seemed to darken a little.

"Whatever do you mean, darling? What memories?"

"That is the whole point! I know that I can't remember some things! I just don't know what." frustration was very clear in your voice at this point.

Mr. Heart laughed wholeheartedly as if your 'situation' was the funniest thing anyone has ever told him.

"Well my dear, no need to get all fierce with me! I only want to assist you. And it seems that you are treading on very dangerous waters. I would watch out if I were you."

You swear your eyes became fire. How dare he act as if your troubles were something scandalous! Vark began to lick your leg as an attempt to calm you down, which worked for a moment until the 'ever lovable' Mr. Heart reached a hand out and began to rub your shoulders as if he had any right to touch you.

Vark, being the wonderful pet he is, noticed this and bit his leg. The angel howled in pain and kicked your beloved baby and he began to wail in pain. At this point, all you saw was red as you lunged onto the man and began to beat him up with what some people would call a 'mother's fiery.'

Some raised voices from outside of the office eventually joined the chaos of the room, and you were dragged off the very-much battered up Mr. Heart. Well, Mr. Heartless to you.

"Mrs. Holland! How dare you strike a Seraphim! That is considered treachery to the Hierarchy of the Council!" the same Cherub from earlier screeched at you in a high-pitched tone.

"Well I'll be damned! He touched me without consent and kicked my pet! I was defending myself-"

"You lie! One sin after another! How could you!?" you felt yourself being picked up from two service angels, and being dragged to another room, your shark following you right behind.

"Where are you taking me?" You shouted, attempting to pull off the two angels that were holding you roughly.

"We're not taking you anywhere. You are going to be sent somewhere." the Cherub said with a malicious tone of voice. You bit back a sob when the words processed in your head.

They were going to send you to Hell

You eventually approached a door that read 'Employees Only' and met a room that had an arch that took up the entire floor.

The portal to Hell. The place they were going to toss you into for something utterly stupid. How hypocritical of them. Heaven, the place of love and peace? My ass!

The Cherub flew over to a panel on the side of the wall, and loud sirens were heard throughout the room. Hell, you bet the entire 'cloud kingdom' could hear the loud blaring the room was making.

A red coloured portal began to appear on the ground within the structure of the arch. You gulped and felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes.

This was it.

Good-bye Heaven. Good-bye Kai and Molly.

You could hear Vark wailing from the loud noises and you attempted at twisting around to look at him. Your last attempt at begging for your shark's mercy was cut off when you were tossed into the portal.

You fell for a moment.

Then everything went dark.

+++

What awoke you from your 'dreamless sleep' was the feeling of something wet being dragged across your face. You moaned in pain when everything came crashing down on you. Literally.

Your back hurts, your head hurts, hell, even your face hurts.

You opened your eyes and noticed your beloved land-shark was on top of you, licking your face. You didn't feel anything but pure joy at that moment when you realised your shark wasn't going to be left all alone up in Heaven.

"My baby! I thought I wouldn't see you again!" you cried aloud and clutched the shark tightly against your chest. Vark seemed to love the attention and began to get all giddy from your loving embrace.

You pulled away from him after a few minutes, and began to observe the scenery around you. You appeared to be in some sort of alleyway, noting that there was garbage and other things that you didn't care to find out what it was exactly. You stood up slowly, and nearly fell back to the ground when you felt your knees shake.

Damn, you fell hard.

(Not as hard as you fell for Vincent though)

Vark noticed that you were in pain, and began to lick you again as a way of comforting you. You smiled softly and patted his smooth head in reassurance that you would be alright. Vark got the memo, and jumped from your arms. You attempted to stand again, and lent against the wall for support.

"Vark, I need you to do me a small favour." You said with a small voice. Vark wagged his fin and his tongue poked out of his mouth in anticipation for what your next words would be.

"Can you go up ahead and see if there is anyone that can help me? I don't think I'm going to be able to get around."

Vark tilted his head to the side in slight confusion to your words, to which you sighed heavily.

"I'm hurt Vark. I need help." You said a bit more simply. Vark recognised the phrase from when you trained him years ago, and immediately ran around the corner of the alleyway in search of some suitable help.

Who are you kidding? This is Hell. Why would anyone want to help? You sighed and placed your fingers on the bridge of your nose to attempt to relieve some stress that was building up.

What a rotten day.

+++

Minutes turned into hours, and you began to grow weary that something had happened to Vark. That is until you heard the familiar pat pat of Vark's fins.

You looked up from the corner you were hiding in, and noticed a very tall demoness was approaching you with Vark and-was that Molly?

"Oh my gosh! Are you alright?!" The demoness exclaimed with pure worry in her tone. You smiled weakly and shook your head.

"No, I-I'm sorry if I'm a bit of an inconvenience. You see, I was kinda kicked out of Heaven? And I'm injured from falling. . ." You babbled on. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.

The demoness held a sympathetic gaze in her eyes, and she looked over to her companion who was observing you as if you were an anomaly.

"Wait, you're from Heaven?"

You nodded your head, and the fellow seemed to get all smiley. Why? Who knows.

"That's crazy toots! Ya know, my sister is up there, I wonder if you eveh got to meet 'er."

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I didn't meet much folk up there. I'm not much for socialising."

The spider-like dude nodded his head in understanding.

"'Tis fine, we are all different. Anyway, the name is Angel Dust, and this is her majesty Charlie." He pointed to himself then waved one of his other arms to the blonde demoness, who you now know as Charlie.

She was beaming with complete and utter joy. Why do they both smile so much when they are in the fiery pits of inferno?

"You need to come back with us and tell us EVERYTHING! You could be so helpful for my hotel!" Charlie began, but then immediately stopped once she noticed you were very much lost.

"I'm so sorry for being so direct with you! I'm Charlie, as Angel said. I should've asked if you wanted our help first. I mean, of course you want my help! I mean, do you?" She awkwardly trailed off when she noticed that you were staring at her as if she had grown another head.

Hotel? What does she mean by that?

"What she is trying to ask is if you needed a place to stay?" Angel asked, brushing his hands through his hair (was it hair?) and smoothing it over. His hair (it was definitely not hair but you didn't know what else to call it.) reminded you of Molly, and your heart ached at the thought of Kai and Molly going to your apartment and not finding you there.

You felt tears welled up in your eyes, but you tried hard to not look like you were about to burst into a puddle of sadness and utter hopelessness.

Charlie noticed this, however, and she crouched down to your height and engulfed you with the warmest hug you've ever received in a long time. You felt the dam break, and immediately you began to sob. At this point, you don't even know what you are crying over.

Maybe it's for everything that has happened over the past-decade?

Decades?

You were not entirely sure at this point honestly.

You both eventually entangled each other from the hug, and she offered you a hand to help you up. You took it gratefully, and stood up slowly to prevent yourself from falling back over. Charlie smiled at you softly, to which you grinned back.

"Alright now, are we headin’' back to the Hotel?" Angel asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. Charlie nodded her head, but looked back at you to make sure that is what you wanted. You properly smiled that time, and they both took the answer as 'yes'.

+++

The hotel was nothing like how you imagined. You learned on the trip there that the hotel was a place where sinners dwelled to try and redeem themselves to earn salvation.

That was the most wholesome thing you thought you would ever hear in Hell. There's hope for you yet.

You were currently in the lounge of the hotel, where a lot of 'group activities' take place on a daily basis. You were and Vark were on top of a very comfortable couch that was tucked away in a corner. You were honestly so comfy, that you felt yourself dozing off. Until you heard a voice that made you want to rip your ears off.

"Why, hello! I didn't know our beloved Charlie had once again found another unfortunate soul to try out her silly project!"

The man's voice sounded muffled, almost as if he was speaking through some sort of antique microphone from ages ago. You made eye-contact with the looming figure, and noticed he reassembled a deer in a strange way.

Who the Hell was this man? And why is he so-red?

If if he could read your mind, he shoved his hand in your face to shake and practically announced to the hotel who he was.

"The name is Alastor! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" You smiled meekly and shook his hand, and sighed when you realised he wasn't about to break your hand like the other guy. Mr. Heart or whatever his name was.

That stupid prick.

"No need to frown, dear! Smile some more! You're never dressed without one!"

This Alastor was starting to get on your nerves. And he seemed to be a staff member of the place, which only meant you would be seeing him a lot. Also, his own smile was slightly unnerving. . .not to mention kind of creepy.

"Alastor! Leave the poor girl alone." you heard Charlie call from another part of the lounge. Alastor rolled his eyes before he turned hot on his heels to argue back that he was simply 'introducing' himself.

Whatever, you didn't really care.

You stood up from the couch, Vark following closely, and began to sneak away from the chaos of the Hotel. You eventually found yourself on the sidewalks of the busy street of some part of town.

One thing you noted was how many bright neon lights decorated the sides of buildings and billboards. Vark seemed to be lost in the flashing colours and noises of the advertisements playing on TV's.

There were so many TV's. Which triggered a long lost memory that you never remembered from your time in Heaven.

It was a year or so after you and Vincent got married. He had just landed a job as a news reporter for a small company that was local to your hometown. You were aware that he loved all the new technology that was being released too quickly to follow up on. But you never expected him to one day bring back an extremely expensive TV for your living room.

"Vincent! What on Earth did you get this time?"

He rolled his eyes and rolled a portable box TV into the kitchen for you to examine.

"I got us a TV. It's especially for you so you can watch me when I'm on the afternoon news." He said with a cheeky smile. You chuckled at his antics and headed over to him to give him a hug.

"You're such an attention seeker, and you're also adorable."

He only laughed at that, and hugged you back just as tightly as you.

"Only for you doll, only for you."

The memory faded, and it left you standing idiotically in the middle of the sidewalk. That was new, and not to mention, so heartwarming.

You missed Vincent. A lot.

Vark began to bark at an advertisement when you noticed a man with a TV for a head appeared on one of the TV's close to you. He was talking about some sort of security set-up. But you didn't care. What you did care about was how familiar his grin was to you.

That wasn't a coincidence, was it?

Vark distracted you from your thoughts when he began to run away when the scent of seafood was recognised. You called after him and began to spring after the shark.

How does an animal run with fins?

You once again got lost in your thoughts and didn't notice that you and your runaway shark were headed towards a huge crowd that was forming in front of a building nearby. Vark, being so small, ran in between the demons of all sizes and continued on his way. You were about to do the same until you ran into someone and knocked yourself and the stranger down.

"Woah! Careful where you're running off to!"

"I am so sorry!" You squealed when you realised that you had unintentionally caused a scene. You had landed on top of a complete stranger; in front of a huge crowd; and it was the same man with the TV head.

Ah, what luck you had. Your thoughts were cut off when the TV headed man began to look you up and down, which made you very...uncomfortable? But his gaze felt familiar, as if instinct was telling you you knew this strange man.

"You look familiar, do I know you?" He began, but you cut him off when you scrambled to your feet when you noticed Vark returned to you with some fish in his mouth. Or what you assumed was fish.

"Vark! You are in so much trouble!" You announced, bending over to pick up the mischievous land-shark that has caused oh-so-many problems with you today.

You heard people around you murmur, to which you raised your brow to, but decided to ignore. You turned back around to again apologise to the man you so rudely knocked over, but found him staring at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

What was his deal?

You heard him mumble your name, which definitely made you jump a bit.

"What was that?"

He rushed over to you instantly and immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into the building, completely ignoring all the commotion that began to arise outside.

You both eventually reached a secluded corridor, and you found yourself standing in close proximity with the man.

Who even is he? And what the fuck gave him the right to drag you around like a doll?

He called your name again, and you felt his hands gently cup your cheeks. You met his digital gaze, and you all but gasped when it all finally clicked.

Vincent Holland. Your long lost and beloved husband.

"V-Vincent?" You stammered, completely bewildered that you had somehow found him in a city with millions of people. Maybe luck was truly on your side.

"H-how?" You started, but got cut off when a pair of digital lips met yours in a sweet kiss. Your eyes widened in shock: you were kissing a TV. But this was also your husband. (Who had a screen for a head somehow…)

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, humming softly when he began to bite and suck at your lips. You pulled away, however, when Vark began to cry from the lack of your attention.

"Vark! Stop it!" you scolded him. Vincent chuckled at the interaction to which you raised a brow.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. I also have a land-shark named Vark." he stated as if it were the most obvious thing. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, doll. I got him as soon as I found out you could have one. And I named him Vark because, well, we always joked about it."

You smiled so sweetly at this. You and Vincent coincidently having a pet shark and naming them the same was just too adorable to you. You pulled him back into another kiss, to which Vincent smiled.

You pulled away after a minute when your lungs burned for air, and noticed Vincent was staring at you adoringly.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I thought I would never see you again. You don't know how much I've missed you. I looked for you everywhere as soon as I was able to to it safely. Even though it didn't happen as fast as I wanted, I knew I would always find you." he whispered. He kissed your head gently and gave you a familiar-loving smile.

You felt your heart ache a little, when you realised that he probably didn't get to live in an oblivious bliss to your absence. A perk of living in Heaven, you supposed, was the lack of memory of anything that could make you wish the fiery pits of Inferno.

"Me too Vincent, me too. I'm so glad that I found you again." you placed your forehead against his (screen), and shared a loving embrace.

You and your beloved Vincent, was once again, united.

I want to make a part two, but knowing me I would forget about it half way through and feel sad.

also, i love vark. he carries this story ngl.

But I still will because this story felt very. . .rushed. even though it's so DAMN LONG HOLY SHIT.

-will

#x reader #x y/n #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x yn #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader

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