#so for the last week he’s been making jokes that I’ll become his daughter in law and he was serious about it

[saltyfilmmajor]

Literally everyone in my house does not give a fuck if I’m uncomfortable hosting a missionary

[myladysapphire]

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

 Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.  

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.  

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.         

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

“why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.                                                                                                 

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes”  you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

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[starkwlkr]

Is there coming a part 3, then maybe where Charles becomes worldchampion? And celebrates with his daugther Ruby and his wife yn?

cool dad | charles leclerc

more baby leclerc content!! manifesting this happens irl if not i will be jumping off the nearest cliff 😝🫶🏼

Ruby couldn’t contain her excitement. She danced around in the hotel room to music coming from her mom’s phone, Y/N making sure her phone was locked before leaving it around Ruby.

“And I am a material girl!” Ruby jumped in the bed as Y/N finished her makeup in the bathroom. Charles was already gone. He was nervous, anyone could tell. Today was the last race of the season, the race that would determine if by the end of the night he was going to be world champion.

“Mama! Play it again!” Ruby said as she continued jumping.

“Ruby Jules, did you find the dress you want to wear?” Y/N asked. Recently Ruby was going through that phase where she didn’t want either of her parents to dress her, she wanted to do it on her own. Her clothing hooves mainly consisted of mix matched socks, bright colored shirts and once she even wore her fairy dress that she always wore on her birthday to the Spanish Grand Prix.

“I want grand-mère to dress me.” Ruby stopped jumping.

“Oh, okay. She should be here soon so just pick out your clothes and she can dress you when she gets here.” Y/N said and grabbed her phone from the night stand. She hoped Charles wasn’t too busy to answer her call.

“Yes, my lovely wife that didn’t give me a morning kiss.” Charles spoke into the phone.

“You’re so dramatic, Perceval. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ll be at the paddock in an hour. You have everything you need, right? You’re not missing anything? Lucky socks? Lucky shirt?” Y/N listed off as she continued her makeup as she put the phone on speaker.

“Just my lucky wife and daughter.” Charles replied.

“Aw that’s cute. Didn’t know you had another one. Is she cute?” Y/N joked. From a distance she could hear Ruby talking to herself about which dress she wanted to wear.

“Yeah, Pierre is cute, but not as cute as you.”

“Mama! Grand-mère is here!” Ruby yelled as Pascale opened the door to the hotel room, Lorenzo, Arthur and Carla entered behind her.

“I have to go, Love. I’ll see you soon, world champion.” Y/N said.

“Stop, you’re going to jinx it.” Charles chuckled.

“No, I’ve been manifesting. I even went to a crystal shop before this trip. You’re going to be world champion, Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said witch much confidence.

“I love you, mon amour.” Charles replied. He hoped his dream would come true. It would mean so much to him seeing his daughter watch him become world champion.

“I love you the most, Perceval.” Y/N said then ended the call. Ruby then ran into the bathroom to show her mom a dress that Pascale has bought her so she could wear it to the race. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

“That’s what I told grand-mère!” Ruby smiled and ran back to the room. It was still too early, but there was no stoping the little girl.

Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, all dressed up and ready to go. “Hi, how are you?” Carla asked, kissing Y/N’s cheek to greet the mom.

“Nervous, but excited. Ruby’s even more excited.” Y/N nodded as she went up to every single member of the Leclerc family and kissed their cheek.

Pascale chuckled. “Did you see the dress I got Ruby? I saw it last week in the store and I just knew she would love it!”

Everyone looked at Ruby who was still jumping on the bed, but this time she had the dress in her hands.

“Ruby, careful. Come on, you said you wanted grand-mère to help you put your dress on. We have to go see papa race.”

Ruby took Pascale’s hand and led her grandmother to the bathroom so she could change. Carla and Y/N catched up on their lives while the two Leclerc men kept up with pre-race interviews on their phone.

“Y/N, they’re asking Charles about Ruby.” Arthur showed the phone screen to his sister-in-law.

“You’ve got a little girl, Ruby Jules-” Charles interrupted the interviewer.

“Right. But everyone knows her as baby leclerc and she loves the name. I was the one that gave her that.” Charles smiled proudly.

Charles had spoken to Y/N after Ruby’s whole instagram live video. Of course everyone knew Ruby’s name by now and that was something Y/N never wanted to be out in the first place. She at least wanted her daughter’s life to be private since hers and Charles was far from it.

“And is she excited about today? Does she understand that her dad could be world champion?”

Oh, Ruby understood more than that. In school, she had told her friends and teachers that her dad was already world champion. Of course that wasn’t true, (Not yet at least) but the little girl was so proud of her dad that she knew he could be world champion.

“Yeah, she has watched most of the races. She knows quite a few things actually, which surprises me because she mostly watches cartoons and listens to pop songs. But yeah, she even caught on with the whole forza charles and says it to me before every race even if she’s not here she makes her mother call me.” Charles explained.

“Forza Charles or Forza dad?”

“A bit of both. Charles when she’s excited so mostly I hear forza Charles coming from my daughter. It’s funny.”

The first time Ruby ever said that to her dad was in Silverstone. After hearing his daughter say those meaningful words, he pushed through and ended up on the podium.

“Mama! Look!” Y/N stopped looking at the screen to turn around to see her daughter in her new dress. Ruby twirled and did a pose which caused both uncles to take their phones out and snap photos of their niece.

“Where’s your grand-mère?” Y/N asked when she noticed Pascale wasn’t out of the bathroom yet.

“She wanted to ask you something. I think she wants to borrow some makeup.” Ruby ran to tackle her uncles by jumping on them.

Y/N nodded and went into the bathroom to see Pascale waiting for her. “Ruby said you wanted to ask me something.”

“Yes, I know I shouldn’t have looked around but Ruby wanted a little makeup from the bag so I grabbed some of yours and I found this.” Pascale handed her a pregnancy test that had the words positive on the little screen. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you wanted me to find out.”

“Pascale, don’t be sorry. You had to find out sooner or later. I put it here because Ruby knows not to touch my makeup bag.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m planning on telling Charles after he becomes world champion.”

“And he will.”

Charles would think that the two mothers made some kind of magic to make him win or that Y/N was actually serious about using crystals. Whatever it was, he was grateful because it got him an unforgettable moment.

“Charles Leclerc, you are world champion!”

Fireworks went off making Ruby cheer at the bright colors. She pointed at the right lights in the sky as Lorenzo held her in his arms. She was amazed until Lorenzo pointed at the Ferrari crossing the finish line that belonged to her father.

“That’s papa!” Ruby screamed.

Charles couldn’t wait to hug his family. After years and years of hard work, his dream of becoming world champion had finally come true. This moment was for him, for his father, for Jules, for Anthoine.

“When can I see papa?” Ruby asked her mom, who was standing beside Lorenzo.

“I’m not sure, chérie. Papa has a lot of people congratulating him. We’re going to see papa celebrate.” Y/N explained to the girl.

The family walked to get a good spot to see the podium ceremony. Checo was given his third place trophy while Max received his second place trophy. Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for, Charles receiving his world championship trophy. Lorenzo raised Ruby a bit higher so she could cheer for her dad. Arthur made sure to capture everything on video.

That night hearing the Monaco national anthem was something special. This was different. A good different.

Y/N stared at her husband with proudness. He worked extremely hard every year just for that moment. She clapped alongside everyone as Charles celebrated. Y/N wiped away a tear once Charles spotted his family. He blew several air kisses to where they were.

“Mama, he saw us!” Ruby excitedly said.

“And for the last time this year, the celebration!”

Les Toreadors started playing as all three drivers grabbed their bottle of champagne and started spraying each other. After a few seconds, Charles made his way to where the Ferrari team were and sprayed them.

“Is that juice?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, but it’s the kind that you can’t drink.” Arthur tried explaining.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for adults.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

Having Arthur around was like having another child. At least Ruby didn’t get bored with her uncle Arthur.

It felt like hours trying to get ahold of Charles since everyone was congratulating him on his championship. Ruby was the first to hug him since she ran to him at full speed.

“You did it, papa!” Ruby smiled brightly at her dad as she hugged him.

“It’s because of you. You gave me forza, remember? This is all you.” Charles hugged her tighter as he walked to his family waiting for him.

“Forza papa!” Ruby yelled. Charles set the girl down.

“mon beau garçon!” Pascale cried out as Charles hugged her. “Your father is proud of you forever.”

Charles couldn’t hold his tears in. This special moment was supposed to be celebrated with his whole family, but one special person was missing.

“Congratulations, little brother!” Lorenzo joined in on the hug as well as Arthur, Carla, Y/N and Ruby.

“Ice cream after?” Ruby suggested making everyone laugh. The hug was broken up, but Y/N still held onto her husband.

Pascale knew what the woman was going to do so she whispered to her sons and Carla to let them have a moment. “Come, Ruby, let’s go find ice cream.” Arthur grabbed Ruby’s hand.

The couple stayed in each others arms for a bit. Charles certainly didn’t want the night to end. He eventually let go of his wife to kiss her lips. “I did it, mon amour.” He said after kissing her.

“I’m beyond proud of you, Charles. Everyone is. You deserve this more than anyone.” Y/N kissed Charles once more.

“This feels like a dream.” Charles admitted. “Be honest, on what lap did you take out your little crystals to make me win?”

Y/N laughed and playfully smacked his arm. “I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t need any type of crystals to help you win. You’re Charles Leclerc, you’re world champion.”

“That sounds so beautiful coming from you.” Charles whispered as he grabbed ahold of her waist. “Would it be bad if we leave Ruby with maman and you and I can properly celebrate?”

“Calm down, world champion. If we go out, I probably won’t be much fun.” Y/N said. Charles raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Just to remind you what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas.”

“I am still trying to understand-”

“I’m saying Ruby might fight her new sibling over the baby leclerc title in nine months because I’m pregnant.”

“Oh!” Charles understood.

“Yeah, we are never going back to Vegas if it ends up with me being knocked up.”

“It’s Vegas, baby!”

[drabblesandimagines]

Hitched

Leon Kennedy x fem reader, established relationship Couple of swears, mentions of blood

The sudden noise behind you sends you spinning on your heels to confront it. Your pistol is raised, finger slightly squeezing the trigger in preparation to blow the next monstrosity’s head off only to see Leon’s alarmed face, his hands up in surrender, gun dangling from his grip.

“Whoa, baby, it’s just me.”

You exhale in relief, immediately dropping and holstering your weapon. “Sorry – jumpy. You okay?”

You look him up and down, looking for injuries after you’d been separated a little while ago. It felt like every other mission these days led to the two of you working your way through underground caverns, as evil scientists seem to just love setting up their bases there, with ill-maintained wooden walkways that collapsed below your feet. Leon had gone toppling down the last one, reassuring you he was fine - he did always manage to forward roll his way out of taking any impact – and said by the map he’d pilfered from one of the supply rooms, it looks like your paths would cross again eventually and it meant the two of you could cover more ground until then.

“I’m fine. You, however…” He steps forward, grasps you by the elbow and pulls it up gently in front of you to reveal a nasty slice across your forearm, dripping blood on the dirt.

“Slashed out at me as I took it out. Misjudged the space. I blame the moody lighting.” You joke, but Leon doesn’t respond, inspecting the damage.

“I’m okay. We should keep moving, we can’t be far from-”

“Uh-uh. Come on, there’s an alcove just back this way to provide us some cover whilst I see to this.” His grip is still firmly on your elbow as he tugs you back the way he emerged from.

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna leave a blood trail if we don’t. Besides, as your fiancé, I insist.”

The fiancé card is not one that Leon pulls out often on a mission, but has started to do so considering how long your engagement has been. He’d proposed two years ago, literally the moment he got you within eyesight as he returned from a solo mission to Spain to rescue the President’s daughter. He didn’t have a ring – later rectified – but just dropped to his knees and asked you to become his wife. It wasn’t like you hadn’t started wedding planning. There was a folder of brochures under the coffee table, half-drafted emails to venues and caterers on your laptop, saved photos of wedding gowns and centerpieces… But it just felt impossible to ever truly put a plan in place, nail down a concrete date, you didn’t know where the two of you were going to be one month from the next. Sorry, terrorism, could you wait a week or two for the Kennedy wedding to pass first?

“Okay.” You concede and allow him to guide you back a few hundred metres to the alcove – it’s more a deep crevice in the wall, but it won’t be obvious the two of you are hiding in there if anyone or anything was to stroll by.

“Sit.” He points to the space furthest back and you drop down, crossing your legs beneath you so he can crouch down in front. You lay your wounded arm out in front of you with a slight wince. If you were being honest, it did hurt.

“Here, chew this. It’ll make you feel better.” He passes you one of those stupid green herbs from his supplies. The man swears by them as a natural pain reliever – useful in a bind, he claims.

“Ugh, really? But they’re so bitter.” You shake your head, “I’ll be fine without.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, pulling out a roll of gauze from one of his pouches to begin to dress your wound. “Sweetheart, either you chew it, or I will go mamma bird on your ass, chew it for you and then kiss you so hard you’ll have no other choice but to swallow.”

You laugh, dryly. “I think that might be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Chew.”

Again, you concede. Leon won’t stop at anything to ensure you’re taken care of. As his gentle fingers begin to wrap the bandage tightly around your wound in an effort to stem the bleeding, you crunch the herb between your teeth. It’s scratchy, horrendously bitter, makes you want to gag almost. You can’t chew fast enough to get rid of it. He is right about them, though – a moment or two later the stabbing, stinging pain in your forearm where the creature slashed you dulls to a low, much more tolerable ache.

He has a smug look on his face, knowing your tells too well.

“Told you it would make you feel better.”

He finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm and ties it off with a tight knot, slicing the excess off with his knife. He puts away the roll before he turns and sits down besides you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, kissing your crown. You can feel his heart pounding beneath your cheek – he was worried about you. He knows you can take care of yourself, you’ve been through as much hell as he has, but seeing you injured always sets him off.

You know you should press on – BOWs wait for no man - but it’s clear the two of you need a moment to catch your breath, take stock of what’s occurred, work out how you’ve ended up here - again.

You begin to fiddle with the engagement ring that hangs around your neck. Too much risk wearing it on your finger when out on missions, but it felt odd and wrong to leave it at home on your dressing table, so you’d settled for having it like this, tucking it away on a chain out of sight, but playing with it had soon turned into a nervous habit.

Leon clocks your fidgeting immediately and takes your hand, lacing his fingers through. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“About?” He probes, gently.

“What we’re doing here.”

“You forget the brief?” Leon teases and you elbow him lightly in the stomach – not that you’d manage much damage given how muscular he is.

“Like, is this just our life now? Every couple of months, another set of BOWs appears, we deal with and eliminate - rinse and repeat.”

“I…” He sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I hope not. I’d like to think that one day we stop them all and we get a pretty sweet retirement package.”

“I want to get married.” You say, softly.

“Hey, I’m the one who did the proposing, you’re the one who said you wanted to wait until-”

“I know, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t keep holding off for a big event that I’m not sure we’ll ever get to have.” You pause a moment as you sit up, turning to face him head on. “The second we are out of here, I want to marry you.”

“Seriously?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously. Registry office. We’ll wear what we’re wearing – blood splatters, camos, bruises, all of that. I don’t care. I just want to be your wife already.”

“My wife, huh?” He grins at the idea. “Yeah, I want that too. I can’t lie, though, I was looking forward to seeing you in a wedding dress.”

“You will. We’ll do that later – a party or whatever, something that can be rescheduled easy enough if the world goes to shit. But this, this can just be us, huh?”

“Just us, baby.” He places a hand on the side of your face and guides you in for a heated kiss, teasing your bottom lip with his teeth until you permit his tongue entrance and the wrestle for dominance begins. After a moment or two, you place your palm flat on his chest and push back.

“We’re getting distracted, Leon.”

“We sure are.” He gets to his feet and offers you his hand, pulling you up with ease. “Come on, let’s go kill these bastards and get hitched.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, handsome.”

--

“Okay, Leon said it was casual, but I didn’t picture this casual.” Hunnigan appears behind you in the restroom mirror, dressed in her usual work suit, albeit with a paper bag in hand. Leon had radio’ed in as soon as your objective was clear – DSO teams swooping in to clear up and confiscate and destroy the weapons retrieved – and asked Hunnigan to get them into the registry office today.

“Yeah, we were going for work casual, but we had to leave the weapons in the SUV.” You shrug, washing the grime off your face in the sink. You supposed you should at least prep that much. “Thank you for getting us in.”

She shrugs, “It was one of Leon’s easier requests, funnily enough.” She holds the bag in front of her in offering. “For you.”

“Just me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t think Leon will like it as much.” You take the bag with a smile and place it down on the counter to open it – a small bouquet of white daisies within.

“Just so I can catch the bouquet, obviously.”

--

Hunnigan acts as the witness, of course, as you find yourself standing in front of the officiant. He barely batted an eyelid at your attire and you think he must’ve seen all sorts come through the door in his time, so the couple who decided to get married in tactical gear, bruised and bandaged, is just another day.

“Do we have rings?” The officiant questions and before you can say no, Hunnigan steps forward again, handing over a box.

“Should’ve known you’d have our ring sizes on file.” Leon laughs.

“Had a suspicion it might come in handy one day.” She smiles, taking her place back in a seat behind the two of you. The officiant opens the box to reveal two simple gold wedding bands.

Leon takes your hand then – his leather gloves removed for the occasion – and smiles. He’s got a bruise blossoming on his left cheek, his hair’s a beautiful mess, but he’s here and you’re here and it’s perfect.

“If you’ll repeat after me.” The officiant looks at Leon, who continues to look lovingly at you, biting his lip in an excited smile. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy…”

He wets his lips with his tongue and squeezes your hand. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy….”

The vows are over before you know it. You feel giddy, a combination of exhaustion and love, surely.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. It gives me great honour to introduce to you,” he looks at Hunnigan, “the new Mr and Mrs Kennedy. You may now kiss the bride.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, pulling you in close and into a bruising kiss, dipping you back a little before returning you to your feet. “Just a little show for our guest.” He whispers in your ear, nodding his head over at an applauding Hunnigan.

“Dare I ask about honeymoon plans?” Hunnigan comments as the three of you exit the registry office. “I’m expecting the two of you back in HQ tomorrow for a debrief, after all.”

“I don’t know. Any ideas, beautiful?” Leon brings up your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss across your knuckles, the gold band sitting snugly on your ring finger.

“Yeah, I have one.” You nod. “I wanna burger – a real greasy one – and fries. And a beer.”

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” He drops your hand and wraps his arm around your waist and slips another under your knees, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms and you squeal.

“Gotta carry my beautiful wife over the threshold of the nearest diner, don’t I?”

You grin. “That is the tradition. Oh, and speaking of traditions…” You toss the bouquet over Leon’s shoulder into Hunnigan’s arms. “Look who’s next!”

“On second thought…” she walks over to you and places them back into your hands, “keep it. I might as well wait for the redo. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. As a wedding gift, I won’t expect you in until the afternoon.”

“Too kind, Hunnigan.” Leon smirks as she waves over her shoulder and heads towards the parking lot.

Once she’s out of sight, you grab the back of your husband’s head, pulling him down into a chaste kiss and smile up at him. “I love you, Leon.”

“I love you too, Mrs Kennedy.”

--

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[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible string" | part 7

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f! reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count: 7,8k>

warnings: none but, angst, mentions of bruises, and FLUFF

a/n: Hello, hello! chapter 7 is here! The next one may be the last since it's time to say goodbye to this silly fic, by the way, I hope you like this one because I added everything I could and it's kinda cute. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 Remember my dm and asks are always open for you if you wanna talk.

dividers by @/saradika.

Joel

I miss you; I haven’t seen you in a week!

You thought that by now, Joel would have begun to behave very differently from the teen boy trying to win your heart back in time, that in your 30s he was going to find different ways to show affection, but he still got the boyish smile on him all the time he saw you, as if you hang up the moon. He still got the dirtiest jokes about salad dressings, and most importantly, he still got your heart in the palm of his hand, but this time he was taking care of it as if it were crystal, and you were so grateful for his actions, talking louder than his promises.

You loved him; he still made you feel like the only girl in the room.

You

Well, sorry for being on a job trip.

I miss you too, but I’m back tomorrow!! Don’t be so needy.

Joel

A delicious dinner will be waiting for you at my house when you arrive.

And well, me.

You

I have a daughter to go see first!

Joel

I will be waiting for the both of you then.

You chuckled at Joel's response; his enthusiasm was evident even through text messages. Despite being apart for just a week, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment you would be reunited with him.

You adored the way he always had the time to make you feel special, but he also made his time to include Tara too, as if she were a tiny extension of you to love and take care of as if she were his own daughter.

He was behaving like the father Tara needed.

And you didn’t know this, but Joel was starting to love Tara as if she were his daughter. He knew you and her, plus he and Sarah will become a family soon.

When you arrived again on Tuesday, you made your way to your mother’s house. You couldn’t wait to see Tara. She had been staying with her grandmother while you were away, and you missed her terribly after seven days apart.

As soon as you stepped through the door, you were met with your mother’s smile, welcoming you to enter the house; however, she stopped you for a second.

“Tara seemed to be bothered by something.” Your mom warned.

“What do you mean? Did Dwight do something?” Of course, Dwight was the first person to put the blame on him since he was going to have a day with his daughter because you allowed him to see her once this week while you were away.

“I don’t know, but she was really upset today, and she doesn’t want to talk to me,” she said, her voice tinted with worry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it,” you assured her, with determination in your voice. You knew that Tara often kept her feelings bottled up, especially with all the drama between you and her father.

Heading towards Tara's room, you knocked softly on the door before gently pushing it open. Tara was sitting on her bed, her gaze fixed on the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

"Tara, sweetheart, hey!"" You greeted her, approaching her carefully.

“Mom, you’re back,” she said, stepping up from her bed and welcoming you in a tight hug. You knew her so well that you noticed something was off with her. 

You held her close, feeling her warmth and the familiar comfort of her embrace. "I missed you so much," you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Is everything okay? Your grandma mentioned you seemed upset."

Tara pulled away slightly; her expression was troubled. "It's nothing, Mom," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. But you could see the sadness in her eyes; the weight of whatever was troubling her was evident in the way she held herself.

You reached out to gently cup her face, tilting it up so you could look into her eyes. "You can talk to me, Tara," you reassured her, your voice filled with love and understanding. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."

“Shouldn’t you be at Joel’s by now?” she mentioned, dismissing the topic.

You sighed softly, recognizing Tara's attempt to divert the conversation. "I was planning on going there, but you're more important to me right now," you replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "If you want to talk about what's bothering you, I'm here. But if you'd rather not, that's okay too. Just know that I'm always here for you."

Tara's expression softened at your words, a hint of gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Mom," she said quietly, leaning into your touch. “But you should go; he must miss you by now.”

“He actually wanted both of us over for dinner,” you mentioned, studying her face, which shone at the mention of Joel’s invitation, but it faded soon.

“I just... I don't feel like going out tonight," she admitted softly, avoiding your eyes.

Your heart sank at her words, knowing that Tara's reluctance to go to Joel's house was a sign that something was truly bothering her. "Okay, sweetheart," you said, trying to hide your own disappointment. "We can stay in tonight and talk, just the two of us."

“No, you must go,” she said.

You could sense Tara's insistence—her desire for you to go and spend time with Joel—conflicting with her own reluctance to join. It was clear that she was trying to put on a brave face for you, but you couldn't ignore the underlying sadness in her eyes.

"Tara, if something is bothering you, I want to be here for you," you said gently, reaching out to grasp her hand. "Joel will understand if I need to stay with you tonight. Your well-being is my priority."

Tara squeezed your hand, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. "I know, Mom," she said softly. "But I'll be okay. And I don't want you to miss out on time with Joel because of me."

You sighed, torn between your desire to comfort Tara and your longing to see Joel. But ultimately, you knew that Tara needed you more in that moment.

"Okay, Tara," you conceded, offering her a reassuring smile. "I'll go to say hi to him, but I'll be back later, and we can talk more then, okay?"

Tara nodded, her expression filled with understanding. "Okay, Mom," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

With one last squeeze of her hand, you rose from the bed and made your way to the door, feeling a pang of guilt as you left Tara behind.

As you made your way to Joel's house, your heart raced with anticipation. Despite the conflicting emotions stirring within you about leaving Tara behind, the prospect of seeing Joel filled you with a sense of excitement and longing.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's doorstep, your heart pounding with nervous energy as you raised your hand to knock on the door. The sound echoed through the quiet night, and you held your breath, waiting for Joel to answer.

Seconds felt like an eternity until you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. And then it swung open, revealing Joel standing before you, his eyes lighting up with joy at the sight of you.

"Hey," he said softly, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled you into his arms. "I've missed you."

Seconds felt like an eternity until you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. And then it swung open, revealing Joel standing before you, his eyes lighting up with joy at the sight of you.

"Hey," he said softly, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled you into his arms. "I missed you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your lips.

You melted into his embrace, feeling a rush of relief and contentment wash over you. In that moment, all the worries and uncertainties faded away, leaving only the comfort of being in Joel's arms once more.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth as you leaned into him and into his embrace, where you belonged.

“Where is Tara?” Joel asked after noticing the absence of the teen behind you.

“At my mother’s. She said she didn’t feel good, and I know she is lying, but she insisted on me coming to see you,” you said to him.

Joel's smile widened at Tara's thoughtful gesture, his eyes softening with affection but still showing worry. "She's always looking out for you," he remarked, his voice filled with warmth.

You nodded, feeling grateful for Tara's care and concern. "Yes, she is," you agreed, feeling a surge of love for your daughter. "I'm lucky to have her, but she is my priority, so I just came to say hi.”

Joel pulled you closer, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace once again. "Maybe you could ask Sarah," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe she knows something.”

“Are you sure?” You mumbled against his shoulder.

“Yes, she is inside; come on.” Joel took your hand, leading you inside his house.

As you entered the house, Sarah greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hey," she said, stepping forward to hug you. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, sweetheart," you replied, returning her embrace. "How have you been?"

Sarah shrugged with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Same old, same old," she said cryptically, her gaze flickering towards Joel before returning to you. "What brings you here?"

“Your dad is her boyfriend, and he missed her terribly,” Joel answered to his daughter for you.

You glanced at Joel; a smile creeped on your lips at his words.

A mischievous grin spread across Sarah’s face. "Is that so?" she teased, shooting a playful look at her father. "You must really like her."

Joel chuckled, giving Sarah a mock glare. "She wants to talk to you about Tara."

Sarah's grin softened into a more sympathetic expression as she turned her attention back to you. "Is everything okay with her?" she asked, her tone serious.

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at the opportunity to discuss your concerns with Sarah. "I'm not sure," you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. "She seemed upset earlier, and I can't shake the feeling that something's bothering her."

“Dad, can you let us alone for a bit?” Sarah asked Joel.

Joel nodded, but before heading towards the kitchen, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead as a sign of affection and love for you, saying he was there for you whenever you needed him.

As Joel left the room, Sarah turned her attention back to you, her expression filled with concern.

"What do you think could be bothering her?" you asked gently.

“Well, she seemed off this morning at school. I knew she was with her dad yesterday, so I guess it has to do with him,” she confessed, carefully not to say beyond what she knew; it was Tara who should tell you once she feels ready for it.

You nodded, understanding Sarah's hesitation to delve too deeply into Tara's personal affairs. "That's what I was thinking too," you admitted, feeling a knot of worry tighten in your chest. "But I don't want to push her if she's not ready to talk about it."

Sarah nodded in agreement, her expression sympathetic. "I get it," she said softly. "But maybe knowing that you're here for her, whenever she's ready, will give her some comfort."

You smiled gratefully at Sarah, touched by her insight and understanding. "Thank you," you said, feeling a sense of relief knowing that Sarah was there to support Tara too.

Sarah returned your smile, her eyes filled with warmth. "Of course," she said. "Family looks out for each other, right?"

Your heart warmed at those words, and you looked at Sarah, driven by pure adoration, and found Joel was there spying on the both of you. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Joel peeking in on your conversation with Sarah; his expression was genuine adoration. You couldn’t help but admire the girl he had raised on his own all this time.

As Sarah caught sight of Joel, she grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the playful moment. "Dad, you're such a spy," she teased, her tone filled with playful banter.

Joel chuckled, stepping fully into the room and wrapping an arm around your waist. "I can't help it if I'm curious about what you two are plotting," he replied with a wink, his gaze shifting between you and Sarah.

You leaned into Joel's touch, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you at the warmth and love radiating from your little family. "We're just talking," you reassured him, exchanging a knowing glance with Sarah.

With a smile, Joel pressed a kiss on your temple, his love for you evident in the gentle gesture. "Well, don't let me interrupt," he said, his voice filled with affection. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

As Joel made his way out of the room, you turned back to Sarah, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "He's something else, isn't he?" you remarked, feeling grateful for the man by your side and the daughter who had grown up under his loving care.

Sarah nodded, her eyes sparkling with fondness. "Yeah, he is," she agreed, her voice filled with warmth. "But we wouldn't have it any other way, would we?"

You shook your head, feeling a surge of love for your family. "No, we wouldn't."

As your conversation with Sarah came to a close, you felt a sense of resolve settling within you. It was time to return to your mother's house and check in on Tara, even if you didn't have all the answers yet.

Turning to Joel, you reached out to take his hand, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "I think I should head back to my mom's house now," you said softly, your voice filled with determination. "I want to see how Tara's doing."

Joel nodded in understanding, squeezing your hand gently. "Of course," he replied, his gaze filled with warmth and support. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."

You leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, feeling a rush of affection for the man who had stood by your side through thick and thin. "Thank you, Joel," you murmured against his lips, savoring the closeness between you.

With a final smile, you pulled away, reluctantly releasing his hand as you approached the door. As you stepped outside, you paused momentarily, casting one last glance back at Joel, looking back at you with bright eyes and mouthing “I love you”.

You made your way back to your mother's house, your mind buzzing with thoughts about Tara and what could be bothering her. When you arrived, Tara greeted you at the door with a warm smile, ready to go back home with you.

Since you and Dwight ended your marriage, you stayed at your mother’s house for a day until you found an apartment that was perfect for you and Tara to live together.

"Hey, Mom," Tara said, wrapping you in a quick hug before grabbing her bag. "Ready to head back?"

You returned her hug, giving her a reassuring smile. "Yes, let's go."

As you drove back home with Tara in the passenger seat, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease about her. Finally, you turned to her, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

"Tara, sweetheart," you began, your voice gentle. "I know something's been bothering you. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Tara glanced out the window, her expression troubled. "It's just... I don't know, Mom," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I guess I've just been feeling really confused lately."

You reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering her a reassuring smile. "It's okay to feel confused, sweetheart," you said softly. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. You can talk to me about anything."

Tara nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered, leaning into your touch. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," you replied, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for your daughter. "We'll figure this out together, okay?"

"I love you too, sweetheart," you replied, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for your daughter. "We'll figure this out together, okay?"

She nodded. “You know you deserve all the best in the world,” she said to you, her voice cracking a little bit.

“Do you think so?” You asked playfully, your eyes still focused on the road.

“Yes, and my father never deserved you,” she finally said.

You felt a pang of sadness at Tara's words, knowing the pain she must have been feeling about the situation with her father. But you also felt a sense of pride in her strength and honesty.

"I appreciate you saying that, sweetheart," you replied, your voice soft with emotion. "But he's  still your father after all. What’s between us is just between us; don’t hate him just because he wasn’t a good husband.”

And hating him won't change the past or make things better. It's okay to feel hurt or angry, but holding onto that resentment will only weigh you down."

Tara nodded, her expression thoughtful as she absorbed your words. "I know, Mom," she said quietly. “I just see Sarah and Joel, and sometimes I wish he was my father.”

Your heart ached at Tara's words, understanding the longing she felt for a stable and loving family dynamic. You reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering her comfort and reassurance.

"I understand, sweetheart," you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. "But “what you have left to say was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing as if Joel sensed his name being mentioned; he was the one calling, “Oh my god, I’m going to dump him.”

Tara laughed at your words, encouraging you to answer the call, so you put your phone on speaker.

You glanced at Tara, sharing a laugh with her before answering the call. "Hey, Joel," you said, trying to hide the amusement in your voice.

"Hey, Doe," Joel replied, his voice warm and familiar. "I was just thinking about you. How's everything going?"

"We're on our way back home now," you replied, glancing at Tara as you drove. "I just had a little heart-to-heart."

"Everything okay?" Joel asked, his concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you reassured him. "Just some family stuff. How about you? How's your evening going?"

"It's going well," Joel replied. "Sarah and I just finished dinner. She's upstairs doing homework now. I miss you, though.”

You smiled at the warmth in Joel's voice, feeling a surge of affection for him. "You just saw it like an hour ago.”

“I know, but still,” he said. “However, I was calling you for another reason.”

“Oh?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows.

"I wanted to ask if Tara would like to join Sarah and me for lunch tomorrow after school; I’m taking the afternoon off," Joel said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

You glanced at Tara, who perked up at the mention of her name. Tara's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes, I would love to!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a tint of enthusiasm.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at Tara's eagerness. "You heard her," you confirmed to Joel, a sense of gratitude washing over you for his thoughtful invitation.

“Great!" Joel replied, his tone filled with genuine pleasure. "I look forward to it. See you tomorrow, then.” He paused, “Please tell your mother she is pretty and that I love her.”

“Bye! I love you,” you said on the phone.

You loved the way he had been including Tara in his life since you had returned to his, making an effortless attempt to make her feel loved and included in every single aspect of your now-joined lives.

The next day, Joel led the way to their table, his smile infectious as he engaged in playful banter with Sarah and Tara. The three of them seemed to hit it off effortlessly, their conversation flowing smoothly as they shared stories and jokes.

Throughout the meal, Joel made sure to include both girls in the conversation, asking about their interests and sharing stories from his own life. Sarah and Tara seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, their laughter ringing out amidst the bustle of the restaurant.

Tara hadn’t felt this loved by a paternal figure since she was nine, and she couldn’t help but feel the beating of her heart increasing, knowing that this may be her reality for the rest of her life.

Tara found herself opening up to Joel in a way she hadn't with anyone else since her parents' divorce. His kindness and attentiveness made her feel seen and valued, filling a void she hadn't realized was there.

Unbeknownst to them, Dwight was nearby, observing the scene from a distance. His heart clenched with jealousy and bitterness as he watched Joel bond with his daughter. He had always believed that he was the only father figure Tara needed, but seeing her smile and laugh in Joel's presence made him realize that he had been wrong.

Dwight's resentment toward Joel only grew; the man hasn’t only kept the hold of his heart in the palm of his hand, but now he is stealing his daughter from him, and his mind is swirling with thoughts of how to regain control over Tara's affections. But little did he know, Tara's heart had already begun to open up to Joel, and there was no turning back.

As Joel led the way back to his truck, Sarah and Tara chatted animatedly behind him, their laughter ringing out in the crisp afternoon air. But their jovial mood came to an abrupt halt when Joel suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he examined the side of his truck.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

Joel crouched down, inspecting one of the truck's wheels. "It looks like we've got a flat tire," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Tara peered over his shoulder, her heart sinking as she saw the damage. "Is there anything we can do?" she asked, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over her.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'll need to call for a tow truck," he replied, his tone resigned. "It looks like we're going to be here for a while."

As Joel pulled out his phone to make the call, Tara glanced at Sarah, her mind racing with thoughts of what could have caused the flat tire.

But a few seconds later, Joel came back. “I called Tommy; he is going to take the both of you home while I stay here waiting for the tow truck, okay?”

The teens nodded as Joel made the arrangements, and Tara and Sarah exchanged glances, silently communicating their concern. Despite the unexpected turn of events, they knew they could count on Joel to take care of the situation.

"Thanks, dad," Sarah said gratefully as Tommy's car pulled up beside them.

"Yeah, thanks," Tara echoed, offering Joel a reassuring smile.

Joel returned their smiles, though there was a hint of worry in his eyes. "No problem, girls," he said. "Just make sure to get home safely, okay?"

"We will," Sarah promised, giving Joel a quick hug before climbing into Tommy's car.

Tara followed suit, offering Joel a hug of her own before joining Sarah in the car. As they drove away, Tara couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Joel's kindness and reliability, even in the face of unexpected challenges.

After the girls were out of sight, a voice interrupted Joel’s solitude.

“First, now, are you trying to steal my daughter too?”

That voice. Joel knew that voice that damn well, and he was getting exhausted from hearing it.

Joel's jaw clenched as he turned to face the source of the voice, his expression a mix of frustration and irritation. "Dwight," he said evenly, his voice tinged with disdain. "What are you doing here?"

Dwight's lips curled into a sneer as he approached Joel, his eyes flashing with anger. "I saw you with your little girl and my daughter," he spat. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

Dwight scoffed, his gaze cold and accusatory. "Right, like I'm supposed to believe that," he retorted. "You've been trying to worm your way into their lives ever since she came back and got to know my daughter.”

Joel's temper flared at the insinuation, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I care about Tara,” he said firmly. "And unlike you, I actually want what's best for her." He accused,” You saw her here, and you waited for her to go instead of saying hello to her, just to come up at me just like the pathetic loser you are.”

Joel's words struck a nerve with Dwight, his face contorting with anger. "You think you're better than me, huh?" He snarled, taking a menacing step closer to Joel. "You think you can just waltz in here and take over my daughter's life?"

Joel stood his ground, refusing to back down in the face of Dwight's aggression. "I'm not trying to take over anything," he said, his voice steady. "I just want to be there for Tara, to support her and care for her like she deserves."

Dwight scoffed, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don't know the first thing about being her father."

“And you do?” Joel asked, but the answer he received was Dwigth’s fist directly in his face.

As Dwight's fist connected with Joel's face, the impact sent a shockwave of pain through him. Joel stumbled backward, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his throbbing eye. Anger flared in his eyes as he regained his balance, his jaw clenched tight.

"Is that how you fix your problems?" Joel growled, his voice laced with defiance. Despite the pain, he refused to let Dwight intimidate him. "You think you can just throw a punch and scare me off?"

Dwight's expression twisted into a snarl as he lunged forward again, this time hitting on Joel's jaw, causing him to bleed, but still, with a swift motion, Joel sidestepped Dwight’s attack, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.

“I’m not going to hit you, not because I can't, but because I have respect for Tara,” Joel said, letting Dwight go from his hold.

Dwight's expression softened slightly, though suspicion lingered in his gaze. "You think you're some kind of hero, huh?" He muttered, rubbing his sore arm.

Joel shook his head, his expression serious. "I'm not a hero," he said.

Dwight regarded Joel for a moment longer before finally turning away, his footsteps heavy as he retreated. Joel watched him go, his jaw still throbbing from the impact of Dwight's punches on his face.

After receiving a call from Tommy about the altercation between Joel and Dwight, you knew you had to go check on Joel. Despite the late hour, you made your way to his house, your heart heavy with worry.

When you arrived, you felt an uneasiness before knocking on the door. When Joel appeared behind the door, you took a look at his appearance. His purple eye and swollen jaw made your stomach twist in pain.

His eyes softened at the sight of you, but the tension on his shoulder told you he wasn’t pleased at all.

“Who told you?” he asked, not a greeting, nor a hug, nor a kiss.

"Tommy,” you replied carefully, studying his subtle behavior.

As you spoke, Joel's expression tightened, mixed frustration and resignation crossing his features. He didn’t step aside, and he didn’t invite you into the house. He just stood there with a weary expression.

“Are you okay?” You asked again.

“Let’s see. I look like an idiot with this on my face; I can’t go to work like this, and I feel tired of your ex-husband.”

You winced at Joel's words, feeling the blame on his words. You couldn’t help but feel guilty; after all, Dwight had appeared in his life because of you. You wished you could take away all this, but you knew that wasn't possible. Instead, you feel small in front of him.

Feeling the weight of Joel's frustration, you took a step closer, wanting to offer him comfort despite feeling somewhat responsible for the situation. "I'm sorry," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine remorse. You lifted your hands to cup his face delicately, but Joel grabbed your wrists before you could feel his face on your palms.

Your breath left your lungs, and your heart sank.

You could feel the tension radiating from him; his eyes were dark and unreadable as they bore into yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation hanging heavily in the air.

"I appreciate your concern," Joel finally said, his voice strained. "But right now, I just need some space."

His words stung, a sharp pang of hurt shooting through you as you withdrew your hands from his grasp. You nodded silently, feeling a lump form in your throat as you struggled to contain your emotions.

"Are you putting the blame on me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You needed an answer before breaking down in front of him.

Joel's expression softened slightly at your question, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. He hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice tinged with regret.

"No, I'm not blaming you," he replied, his tone softer now. "I just... I need some time to process everything that's happened."

You nodded, understanding his need for space but unable to shake off the hurt that lingered within you.

“Go home, Doe,” he whispered.

With a heavy heart, you nodded in response to Joel's words. His request for space was clear, and though it pained you to leave him in such a state, you knew that respecting his boundaries was crucial in this moment.

"Okay," you whispered back, your voice barely above a murmur. "Take care of yourself, Joel."

Turning away, you walked slowly back to your car, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. As you drove home, the silence of the car mirrored the heaviness in your heart, your thoughts consumed by the turmoil of emotions stirred up by the encounter with Joel.

It felt like the night he didn’t fight for you when you left him.

Arriving home with a heavy heart, tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you stepped through the door. Tara, ever-perceptive, noticed your somber expression immediately.

"Mom, what's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice as she hurried to your side.

You tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it faltered as the weight of the day's events pressed down on you.

"It's nothing, sweetheart," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "Just a long day."

Tara studied you for a moment, her gaze searching yours for any sign of what was truly bothering you. Seeing the unshed tears in your eyes, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, offering you the comfort of her presence.

"Is it about what dad did to Joel?” She asked, waiting for your answer.

Your heart ached at Tara's question; her perceptiveness never failed to astound you. You pulled back slightly from the embrace, meeting her concerned gaze with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

"How did you know?" you asked softly, impressed by her ability to see through you. 

Tara sighed, her expression filled with empathy. "Sarah”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, grateful for Tara's understanding. "Of course,” you said. “Yes, it's about that," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel so helpless, Tara. It’s all my fault for thinking we could be together again.”

“I don’t want you to say that ever again, mom,” Tara said, her tone clear enough.

Tara's words struck a chord deep within you, her unwavering support providing a glimmer of solace in the midst of your turmoil. You looked at her, your eyes brimming with tears, and felt a surge of gratitude for her strength and wisdom beyond her years.

"I'm sorry, Tara," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I just... I thought I could make things right, but instead, I've only caused more pain."

“I bet Joel wants space tonight, but that doesn’t mean anything bad.” She reassured me, “The way he looked at you, mom, He wouldn’t lose you over the prick of a father I have.”

Tara's words brought a small glimmer of hope to your heart; her unwavering faith in Joel's feelings for you offered a sense of reassurance in the midst of your doubts.

"Thank you, sweetheart," you said, your voice soft with gratitude. "I hope you're right. I just... I hate seeing him hurt because of me."

“He is not hurt because of you.”

Tara's reassurance was like a balm to your wounded soul, her unwavering belief in Joel's love for you providing a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of your doubts.

"You're right," you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Thank you for reminding me of that, Tara. I needed to hear it."

As the night wore on, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake off the nagging feeling of unease that lingered within you. The thoughts of Joel consumed your mind, his bruised face haunting your thoughts.

Despite Tara's reassurances, you couldn't shake off the guilt that weighed heavily on your heart. The urge to reach out to Joel, to check on him and apologize for everything, gnawed at you relentlessly.

You glanced at the clock beside your bed, its hands ticking away the seconds of the sleepless night. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, the temptation to call Joel becoming too strong to resist.

But as your fingers hovered over the dial button, doubt crept in. What if he needed space? What if he was still angry?

With a frustrated groan, you set your phone aside, resigning yourself to the torment of your thoughts. Sleep remained elusive, the weight of guilt and uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

Just as you resigned yourself to the torment of your thoughts, your phone vibrated with the arrival of a notification. With a flutter of anticipation, you reached for it, your heart racing with hope.

The message was from Joel.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read his words, a mix of relief and apprehension flooding through you.

“Are you awake?”

You typed out a simple "yes,” and just seconds later, he was calling you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you answered Joel's call, the sound of his voice washing over you like a balm. "Hey," he said softly, his tone carrying a hint of weariness.

"Hey," you replied, unable to mask the relief in your voice.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Joel spoke again, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I just wanted to hear your voice," he admitted, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his confession, dispelling some of the tension that had been coiling in your chest. "I'm glad you called," you said softly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How are you feeling?"

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I just want to say sorry for the way I acted, and I wanted to remind you that I love you so much, Doe.”

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with tenderness. "More than you'll ever know."

“Go to sleep now, love,” he said, knowing you finally felt at ease. He would never repeat the same mistakes with you again.

The next day, you found yourself standing in front of Dwight's house, your heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and determination. You took a deep breath before raising your hand to knock on the door.

After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Dwight's girlfriend, his mistress. Her expression hardened when she saw you, and she spoke with a hint of disdain in her voice.

"My daughter is here," she stated bluntly, her tone bordering on hostility.

You held your gaze, refusing to be intimidated by her. "I didn't come for her," you replied evenly. "Where is Dwight?"

Her eyes narrowed at your question, and for a moment, she seemed to consider whether to answer. Finally, she stepped aside, allowing you to enter the house. "He's in the living room," she said tersely.

“Can you tell him to come outside?” you said, not showing emotion.

“Okay”

As Dwight stepped outside, closing the door behind him, you couldn't contain the surge of anger that coursed through you. Without a word, you lifted your hand and delivered a sharp slap across his face.

"Ouch, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dwight exclaimed, his hand instinctively rising to his stinging cheek.

"You know damn well what's wrong," you retorted, your voice laced with frustration and indignation.

Dwight's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I don't have to listen to this," he snapped, turning to walk away.

But you weren't finished. "Oh no, you're not getting away that easily." You grabbed him by the neck of his shirt. 

As Dwight attempted to walk away, you couldn't let him escape so easily. Fueled by anger and frustration, you moved swiftly, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt to prevent him from leaving.

His eyes widened in surprise as you held him firmly, your grip tight and unwavering. "Let me go!" he growled, struggling against your hold.

You tightened your grip, refusing to back down. "No," you replied firmly, your voice dripping with determination. "We're going to have this conversation, whether you like it or not."

“Listen to me now. Joel didn’t press charges against you, but I will if you don’t stop acting like this.” Your grip on his shirt left him speechless. “I’m tired of you trying to ruin my happiness when you know damn well what you did, and not only that, but acting like a bully when you’re pushing your 40s is pathetic; you may be older than me but not wiser.”

Dwight's eyes narrowed as he listened to your words, a mixture of anger and resentment flashing across his face. Despite his attempts to break free, your grip remained firm, holding him in place.

“Are you threatening me?” he spat.

You met his glare with steely resolve, feeling fury and disgust towards that man. "I'm not trying to dictate anything," you replied, your tone unwavering. "I'm simply telling you how it's going to be if you don't change your behavior."

He didn’t say a word, inviting you to continue.

“Tara doesn’t want to see you, but I told her you’re her father, and what happened between us should define her relationship with you, but if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll make sure you will never see her,” you stated firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't hesitate to protect myself and my family from your toxicity, so you will take a step away for a while; you will change your behavior and start acting like a man; and once you’re ready to be a father, you call me, and we can arrange a meeting with Tara.”

He gulped. “Okay.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, and he averted his gaze, seemingly unable to meet your eyes.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice lacking its usual bravado. "I'll stay away... for now."

You nodded, not entirely convinced of his sincerity but determined to hold him to his word. "Good," you said firmly. "And remember, this is your chance to make things right. Don't waste it." You paused, “Now I want you to get on your knees and promise me you will never go for Joel like that.”

As you waited for Dwight's response, he hesitated for a moment, his expression conflicted. But eventually, he let out a heavy sigh and slowly sank to his knees before you, a begrudging acknowledgment of your authority in this situation.

"I promise," he muttered, his voice strained with reluctance. "I won't go after Joel like that again."

You watched him carefully, your gaze unwavering, as you waited for him to finish his vow. Once he had spoken the words, you nodded, satisfied that he understood the gravity of his promise.

"Good," you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Go to be happy with the family you choose; you have the chance to be a good father for that little girl of yours. And you will let me be happy with a daughter and the man I love.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, ashamed for the first time, but you didn't want to buy his act so easily yet.

You observed him silently, your resolve unwavering as you awaited his apology. When he finally spoke, offering a half-hearted sorry, you shook your head.

"Say sorry when you mean it," you replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for ambiguity. "And remember your promise."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Dwight kneeling on the ground behind you, you were determined to protect your family and ensure that Dwight stayed true to his word.

When you returned to your apartment, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed Joel standing by the door, a concerned look etched on his face. His eyes softened when he saw you, and he took a step forward, his expression filled with worry.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, stepping back at the sight of him, still carrying the colored traces of Dwight’s fist on his face.

“I wanted to see you, but nobody opened the door, so I was leaving,” he said, his voice laced with concern as he noticed a somber demeanor on you.

“Yes, Tara wanted to spend the day with my mom, so she left earlier and I was doing something,” you informed, stepping forward to open the door.

Joel followed you inside, his gaze lingering on your face with a mix of concern and curiosity. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what was troubling you.

"Is everything alright?" he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal about your encounter with Dwight. But seeing the genuine concern in Joel's eyes, you knew you could trust him with the truth.

"Not really," you admitted, your voice tinged with frustration. "I went to Dwight's.”

Joel's expression darkened at the mention of Dwight's name, his jaw tightening with anger. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous.

You shook your head, offering him a small smile to reassure him. "No, nothing like that.” You paused, “It was actually me who slapped him on the face.”

Joel's eyes widened slightly in surprise at your revelation. "You slapped him?" he echoed.

You nodded, feeling a surge of empowerment at the memory of standing up to Dwight. "Yeah," you confirmed, with a hint of pride in your voice. "He had it coming."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Joel's lips. "I wish I could have seen that," he said, a touch of amusement in his tone.

You laughed softly at his comment, “Well, we also talked, mostly me, and I think it's all okay.”

Joel's smile softened at your words, his eyes reflecting his relief. "I'm glad to hear that," he said sincerely, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "You're incredibly brave, you know that?"

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’m not”

“Yes, you’re. You stood by yourself, and that’s always brave,” he reminded you, pulling back slightly. He cupped your face in his hands and met your gaze with all the love dancing in his eyes.

You smiled at him, lifting your hand to caress his face, where his eye was still bruised as a violet. Your heart ached for him, for love, and for the memories he always brought with him.

"This reminds me of something,” you murmured softly, your voice filled with a tint of amusement at the memory.

He chuckled softly, a fond smile playing on his lips as he recalled the same thought in his mind. “And I always get the girl,” he said.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as Joel's words echoed the sentiment you were about to share. "Yes, you do," you replied, your voice laced with affection. "But don't think you can use those puppy eyes to get out of trouble every time."

He stole a kiss from your lips and pressed his forehead against yours. "I still have the ring," he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's words, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you gazed into his eyes.

“Then, ask me,” you whispered back, your voice filled with love and certainty. You didn’t care about rushing things anymore; you knew that, for a marvelous reason, what had made you separate for thirteen years was the same reason that brought you back together, this time older and wiser, and you wanted to dive in, not hold back anymore.

Joel's eyes widened slightly in surprise at your words, his breath catching in his throat as he processed the depth of your request. But beneath the surprise, there was a glimmer of joy and a spark of hope that ignited in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your eyes for any hint of hesitation.

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips as you met his gaze with unwavering determination. "I've never been surer of anything in my life," you replied, your voice filled with conviction.

“Well, I don’t have the ring with me right now,” he warned, embarrassed.

Your smile widened at Joel's words; his concern about the ring only added a touch of genuine joy to this. "That's okay," you reassured him, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand.

“I’m doing this anyway,” he said, getting on one knee and causing you to chuckle, hiding the emotion in your throat.

As Joel kneeled before you, your heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and joy. Despite the playful chuckle and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over, you allow him to continue.

"Will you marry me, Doe?"

a/n part 2: Before someone says the last part may be stupid, let's clarify this is fiction.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99 @lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick @sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx @luvwanda @sarahhxx03

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul- Part 12

Cillian Murphy x OC

Author’s note: please please forgive me for taking so long to update this little story, hopefully I’ll get on posting more frequently ✨ I hope you still like this couple, there’s a lot in the store for them 🥰

Series Master list

Song: Alone by Heart, the Royal Philharmonic Orchest

Word count: 2,938

“That was great!” The director called enthusiastically just as Cillian finished his lecture.

An assistant emerged from the shadows in a heartbeat and asked if he wanted something to drink.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He gave her a small nod.

“Let me take this off.” A tech approached him and pointed at the microphone attached to the nape of his jacket.

“Oh, sure.” Turning around, Cillian lifted the back of his jacket so the man could undo the clip holding it together.

Someone else offered Cillian another folder with another part of the script. Something happened in that very moment, the paper felt heavy, not because it was a ton of papers, but because of the character, what this opportunity could mean.

“Are you sure you can’t push your other commitment?” The director finally reached him with a long face. “Your screen tests is fucking amazing.”

Cillian clenched his jaw for a moment. Thinking of the play, all the hard work they’ve been investing daily, the rehearsals, the way it had helped him with the pain and loss of his wife. And then, in the back of his mind, Marianne’s face appeared flashing him.

This was probably one of the greatest opportunities in his career…

****

“How’s little Miss Hanna?” Marianne asked over the phone as she finished washing the dishes.

She could feel her best friend smiling as she made a sound to her daughter.

“Getting bigger every minute.” Her friend Anna replied. “Do you wanna FaceTime?”

Marianne made an excitement sound and pressed the green button on her screen. “Oh look at you princess! You’re so pretty.”

“She was sick last week, and now I’m starting to feel ill, it sucks because I won’t be able to take any medicine.”

“Ow sweetie, try to get some rest at least.”

“The sleeping schedule it’s a mess she wakes up in the middle of the night every single day, we’ve tried soft music, dark room and now Evan is sleeping in the guest room because he needs to get up early the next day.”

“Wish I could be closer to help you during the day at least.” Marianne felt sad for the miles keeping them apart. After years of friendship seeing her best friend become a mother hit different, maternity gave her this beautiful aura and she seemed to have special super powers to balance motherhood, her business and everything around the house without breaking a sweat. It was admirable.

“I’d love that! But enough of diapers… tell me! How’s it going over there?”

Finishing with the dirty dishes, she took her phone with her to sit on the couch, pausing the movie she wasn’t even watching.

“Oh! It’s been good, lots of rainy days. I was working on an essay for a project but words won’t come out as they should, it doesn’t makes sense so I’m taking a break from it and I’ll start it over later.”

“I wish I could help you but… nope.” Anna stated firmly and then cracked a smile, she was over college papers now. “Have you been out meeting cute ginger Irish boys?”

Marianne laughed. “How do you know?” She joked, her schedule was hectic most of the time, that was the last thing on her mind.

“Ugh of course you haven’t.” Anna rolled her eyes, she knew her too well.

Suddenly Scout did a big stretch and decided to join her, demanding some petting like she did whenever he was close.

“Who’s that?” Anna asked with interest.

“Scout. Say hiya.” Marianne moved her phone closer to show her friend the black lab. “I’m puppy sitting him, it’s adorable.”

“And the owner is…?”

“He’s part of the cast of the play.” Marianne pretended to give Scout a smooch on the head, but she was able to feel her friend’s gaze on her.

“Okay… is he single?” Anna went immediately in for the important details.

“Widowed.”

Anna’s jaw dropped, she grabbed her phone excitedly while whispering because Hannah was now taking a nap on her other arm. “Spill the gossip.”

“Stop, there’s no gossip.”

“He’s widow, has a dog that clearly likes you. What else?”

“Anna relax.”

“No. Don’t tell me to relax, tell me the dirty details.”

Marianne felt mortified, in the past Anna tried to be a matchmaker, introducing her to several friends, and her husband’s friends, even a cousin, but it didn’t went further than a date.

“Look-” but her words got cut when she got a message from Cillian greeting her and to ask how Scout was behaving.

“Is that the dog’s Dad?”

“No, it’s Mum I’ll give her a call.” She felt bad for lying to her best friend, but she didn’t feel like there was something to tell. “Love you, call you later.” She rushed to hang up.

***

Cillian strolled thru the busy platform at the tube, it was starting to get packed, close to rush hour. He remembered this all so well from the years he lived in the city, eager to get a better opportunity in the industry.

He waited patiently minding his own business just like everyone else… people from different places, backgrounds and mindsets crossed before him not giving him a double look. He liked that, it was awkward to be stopped by a stranger to praise about his work, he felt extremely grateful without a doubt, but he sucked at the taking compliments part. He never knew what to say or do.

He felt thankful for the walk he was taking, he had a lot of things on his mind, he just got off the phone with one of his kids, they were just finishing their homework and decided to help grandpa set up a dvd player. Cillian strolled through the busy street now, deciding to go straight to his hotel room, he could always grab something from the mini bar to have dinner.

The beep on his phone announced a new message and it changed his whole mood.

Sleeping (he’s snoring).- Marianne wrote him and added a photo of Scout peacefully sleeping on her lap.

A stupid smile appeared on his lips, he couldn’t stop it.

Looks like you’ve got the magic touch. He wrote back, but deleted it before sending. Looks like he’s having a blast. He typed instead. Can I give you a call?

As he stepped inside his room, Cillian took off his shoes and jacket, Marianne didn’t reply but called him directly.

“Hey how’s it going?” He asked walking around the room.

“Oh my! You should’ve seen Scout, he jumped and stormed off towards the door when he heard you.” Marianne explained that she had the call on speaker.

Cillian chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Look I’m going to put you on video.”

Staring at his screen, he pressed the green button and soon an image of Scout wagging his tail and looking at the door filled his phone.

“Talk to him.” Marianne proposed crouching down to get closer.

“Hey buddy, over here.”

Scout turned around a started stomping his front paws.

“See? He misses you.”

Cillian saw her hand caressing Scout’s head.

“What was the other photo you sent me? Earlier.”

“Oh! That was us going for a walk.” Marianne explained going back to sit on the couch, still pointing her camera towards the black lab.

With a huff, Scout jumped on the couch before getting comfortable against Marianne once more. Arranging the base, she leaned her phone on it to have her hands free and went back to scratch Scout’s head.

“He’s having the time of his life.” Marianne stated giving the dog a glance.

A soft smile grew on his lips. “But he had something yellow on?”

“Yes! I got him a raincoat.” Marianne explained waving her hand.

“You let him on the couch, protect him from the rain… when I go back he’s going to be so spoiled.” He chuckled softly getting comfortable.

“Well he deserves spawcial treatment.” She explained running her fingernails through his back. “Righ?” She asked staring into those big brown eyes.

Envy flashed through Cillian’s mind. How lucky that bloody dog is, he thought.

“Tell me, how is London?”

“Crowded and it wasn’t raining so that’s grand.” Cillian chatted. “But they could’ve saved me the trip.”

“Why?” Marianne frowned and started fidgeting something around her neck.

Cillian let out a soft groan and looked towards the window. “From the beginning I said I couldn’t do this project, but the director insisted on the screen test.”

Marianne mouthed an explicit oh, but decided to not interrupt Cillian’s explanation. “I’ve other priorities going on at the moment.”

How could he make a decision like that? Choose between two projects, she wondered what made him say no before it could even start and how that probably affected him on future plans.

He couldn’t help but fix his eyes on her hand, twisting one of her fingers between the necklace. “I’m sorry… what’s that?”

Marianne looked down to see what he meant.

“Your pendant.” He clarified.

“My grandma gave it to me when I turned eighteen. It was given to her by her mother.” She leaned forwards to get closer to the camera and show it to him. “It’s our Lady of Guadalupe. I’ve had it for years.”

Cillian thought how he hadn’t noticed it before. Immediately it gave him an idea, it could be useful as a resource in the play, how come he didn’t think of it before?

“That’s lovely.” He hummed.

“It’s very popular over there, the fact that she chose to show up with the same skin color as our natives, the meanings behind her dress and veil… there’s actually professional studies that confirm the image isn’t a print and her eyes actually are alive.” she explained, getting lost. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“No it’s fine… I mean I don’t, but everyone chooses what to believe in.”

He remembered seeing her making a silent prayer from time to time, or the signal of the cross subtly before a rehearsal.

Marianne thought how thoughtful it was from him to respect her beliefs. She liked the fact that he didn’t laugh or rolled his eyes by her words.

“You know… I keep you and your kids in my prayers.” She added out of the blue, not knowing if she was stepping over the line. But she did, praying was the best she could do for him.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He swallowed, not knowing what else to say, it was a beautiful gesture from her despite his own thoughts about religion. “I think adding a subtle touch like that to the play would be nice.”

“What? Are you going to make Adria pray at night?” She joked, making him laugh.

“No, but the necklace. That and the letters we thought about her and this secret man in her life, I just thought he could’ve given her a necklace that means so much and she keeps it.”

“I like how it sounds!”

Cillian asked her to hang on while he looked around for a pen and paper to take notes, Marianne heard him curse over what seemed to be an stuck drawer.

“It could be like a transition step,” he thought out loud, “she finds the necklace and it’s a pivotal moment for Adria, then the letters… and that’s when this man reveals himself to the audience.” He could see it all so clearly, Adria’s facial expression, her strong persona shattering by the sudden memories.

Marianne could hear Cillian talk all day long, his velvety voice was like a lullaby to her when he got lost in something, it was like she could see what he was explaining in a movie scene. The images were so vivid, like in a dream.

His critical point of view added something magical to what might sound like a regular idea. He made it stand out.

“I just think we’re going to cause Enda a heart attack with the changes we’ve suggested.” Marianne sighed and Scout mirrored her.

“Nah, he’s gonna be fine.” Cillian waved his hand to dismiss her worries. “What really matters here it’s how you feel.”

She chuckled nervously, not wanting the conversation to turn about her, deep down she still felt so nervous for the outcome of this.

He didn’t want to say he was a good actor, but he was good at reading people. For an instant, her fears flashed through her eyes. But at the same time he was having a hard time trying to find the differences between her and Adria, it was almost impossible to spot where one ended and the other started.

“What? What is it?”

“How do you do it? How can you not be scared of getting on stage?”

Cillian pouted, pondering on her question. “I guess you don’t think about it.”

“But I’m already.” She laughed.

“Then just move your attention towards something else… your next move, the next line. Try to focus on what’s going on at the moment.” He tried to give her the best advice. “Roll with it, enjoy it.”

“I’m just wondering if anyone will come and see a rookie.”

“Tickets will sold out, mark my words.” He assured her without hesitation.

“Thanks for the cheering, I really appreciate the support.” She scratched Scout absently.

“Do you want to hear the idea I’ve for the video?” Now it was Cillian’s turn to smile, he had been working on that project most of the flight, taking notes and letting his mind go as he listened to the song over and over.

“Absolutely!”

“We’ve learned to leave judgment behind us already right?” He asked holding his phone in his other hand.

“Oh God, what are you going to make me do this time around? Should I be scared?” Marianne joked.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m going to do it anyways.” She added then.

And Cillian was transported back in time, when he’d get the call from certain film director, he didn’t ask what was the part about or how big was the role involved… he always said yes.

So he went on to tell her all about the very specific idea he wanted to achieve for this video and how fitting it felt for the lyric.

He felt inspired, in his mind he could already see the images, the story telling itself, and the permission to use the locations was already on its way. Being behind the camera was one of his many passions, and getting the chance to do it once more was an opportunity he didn’t want to let go.

She noticed the excitement in his voice as he explained the different segments of the story, she could only compare it to taking a kid to Disneyland, and a couple of times, she forced herself to look somewhere because he was too distracting.

“I had a crazy moment earlier,” Marianne started to tell him as the call took another turn.

“Ya? What happened?” Cillian asked lifting his free arm to place it behind his head, involuntarily Marianne couldn’t help it but stare at his bicep.

“I started talking to Scout, as if he’d answer me.” She laughed and Cillian imitated her reaction. “Then I stopped abruptly when I realized what I was doing and started laughing while Scout barked uncontrollably, he probably thought I was crazy.”

“Oh he’s used to that, don’t worry I talk alone all the time.” Cillian offered then with a smile.

“He’s like a big teddy bear.” She gushed, swooning over the black lab keeping her company. “I’m not so sure I want to give him back.”

She added in a playful tone, but quickly rushed to explain she was just joking.

And that provoked a loud and deep laugh from him. Raisin his eyebrows he covered his mouth with his palm, the realization of how easy she made him smile or laugh made his mind go into another direction…

“Alright Scout, are you ready? We’re having a spaw night.” Marianne explained to the dog after ending the call with Cillian, she put on a fluffy robe, threw her hair up in a messy bun and invited Scout to sit on her lap, as she started to brush him he quickly started to relax, opening his legs wide and closing his eyes while she rubbed his belly.

She then put one of her hairbands just for fun and took one of his paws to added moisturize. So far he seemed to enjoy it, she always thought a dog is just like a little kid, they get excited over the simple things the things that really matter, and in the process they show us a different side of love.

“Do you like it?” She asked trying to look at Scout’s face, but he was far gone, with his tongue sticking out, showing off his teeth.

“You know, I’ve been keeping a little secret…” she whispered, struggling to find the right words. “I think I’m falling for your Dad.”

But admitting her feelings out loud didn’t make it easier, all the opposite she wondered how she’d be able to hide them while working together.

And little did she know that a few miles away, staring out of his hotel window, Cillian was looking at the sky, thinking of her and all the feelings she was making him have.

He wanted her to be part of his life, he was craving the peace and joy she brought whenever she stepped in the room. He needed to hear her laugh and see her smile every day, all the time. He just needed to find a way to her heart.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark

I wonder where you are tonight

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

You don't know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don't know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

But the secret is still my own

And my love for you is still unknown, alone

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone? How do I get you alone?

Black lab Inspiration: Elvis batz the lab

Our Lady of Guadalupe

Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo

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@kmc1989 @lau219

[paradoxlemonade]

Like a Flower in Bloom; chapter 3/3

Fic summary: Doc Monster is a many things: he's a tinkerer, a college graduate, a creeper hybrid, and a husband to his wonderful spouse, Ren. Most importantly, he is a father. And he would do anything to make his trans daughter Scarlet happy. Even if it means becoming a Buttercup Scout troop leader and herding a trio of middle school girls.

Chapter summary: Doc makes contact with the parents and the first troop meeting is held.

This is my @mcytblraufest fic, made in collaboration with my artist @watchmewhirl and beta-read my @raivaughn. You can find the masterpost for the art here.

Warnings: Grian's parents are doing their best but they're not the greatest (brief scene, nothing serious happens)

Ao3: Here!

First ; Previous

---

Scarlet gets Doc the phone numbers for Mumbo and Grian’s parents the next day and he’s able to reach out to them about the new troop. Mumbo’s dad already knows what he’s talking about and is excited that his daughter wants to try new things.

“She’s always been really shy, you know?” Xisuma Void says. “I’m glad your daughter reached out.” Doc can’t help but agree. The running joke among their family is that she collects introverted people like baseball cards, since she decides she likes someone and then doesn’t quit until they agree the two of them are friends. She takes after Ren in that regard, who hasn’t known an ounce of shame in his life.

Xisuma is personable to talk to and the call goes well.

Grian’s parents are another story. 

When they pick up, they don’t have the slightest clue what he’s talking about when he brings up the new Buttercup Scout troop that his daughter was starting and invited Grian to. He’s put on speaker phone so both of them can listen at the same time.

Mr. Vigil Penumbra makes an unsure sound. “And you say that your daughter—Scarlet, was it?—wants Grian to be a part of her troop?” He’s asked for clarification a few times, as if something about what Doc said is hard to believe.

Nevertheless: “Yes, that’s right. They met at school, and Scarlet put the offer out.”

“And how did you get our number?” he asks. 

Doc pinches the bridge of his nose. Never has he been so glad to be having a conversation over the phone instead of face to face. “I asked Scarlet to ask Grian for it, and then Scarlet passed it along to me. I’m still in the process of getting certified, so it’ll be about two weeks before we can start scheduling meetings. I just wanted to reach out to verify your interest and let you know what supplies you’ll need to get beforehand.”

Vigil chuckles, mostly to himself. “Ah, I’ll need to ask if Grian still has all her things, or if she got rid of them after her last troop.” He holds the phone away from himself and clears his throat. “Grian! Can you come downstairs?”

There’s a response of some kind that’s too far away for Doc to make out, and then the quiet knock of footsteps down wooden stairs. “Yeah, what’s up?” a girl, presumably Grian, asks. Her lilting voice is high in her throat, brassy but soft on the edges, and lightly accented. The question comes out stilted.

Vigil clicks his tongue. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you say that again?” There’s a dryness to his tone, one that tightens the nerves on the back of Doc’s neck.

“Uh.” Grian coughs. “Yes, father; what do you need?”

“You still have all that Buttercup Scout stuff?”

“I do, yeah. I said I would only burn it if Mumbo told me she’s no longer interested in scouting, remember? She’s planning to join, too.”

Mrs. Iris Penumbra takes the opportunity to join the conversation. “Thank you, dear, but don’t talk back. Why don’t you go get a glass of water from the kitchen, since hydration is—”

“—healthy, and you can’t talk back if you’re drinking a glass of water,” Grian finishes the sentence alongside Iris with all the enthusiasm of a root canal. “Yes, mother.” There’s some more footsteps as she fully descends the stairs.

“Thank you, baby. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Now she sounds further away.

A lightly muffled Iris, a little quieter than before, makes the offhand comment to her husband, “I’m somewhat surprised anyone asked her; she’s not exactly the friendliest girl around.”

Doc winces at the bluntness. There’s a good chance Grian is still within earshot.

Vigil hums in thought, but doesn’t offer any comment on the topic. “It’ll be good for her to socialize with someone other than just Mumbo.”

With that, Doc is finally able to regain their attention and steer the conversation back towards the new scout troop.

In the end, Xisuma, Iris, and Vigil agree that having their daughters join a brand new Buttercup Scout troop run by someone who’s still in the process of getting certified is a grand idea. Tuesdays are unavailable since Scarlet has physical therapy those days, and earlier he learned that Fridays don’t work for Mumbo since that’s the standing date she and Xisuma go to see her Uncle Exiona. The other days of the week seem open, for all three of them, so they pick Thursday as their day for new troop meetings.

***

A few weeks later, the date selected for the first meeting rolls around.

It’s hosted at their house, since they’re hardly a big enough troop to warrant asking the community center, library, or local church to sponsor them (Scarlet was mildly peeved that they weren’t going anywhere to make it feel more “official,” but agreed once Doc pointed out that the couches in the family room were much more comfortable than folding chairs). She’s practically vibrating as she flitters between the button maker Doc is setting up on the coffee table and the front door, already tired of waiting for her new troop members to arrive.

The button maker is an old thing from his and Ren’s college days. It’s practically a relic at this point, but it still works just like it used to. (He’d checked.) Making their buttons during a meeting seemed like a good way to break the ice. No way is he going to have a bunch of middle schoolers trying to make cookies like Symmetry’s troop, not without an idea of how messy the other two are.

He tightens the final bolt as Scarlet gears up to take another trip to the door. Before she can even stand, Ren reaches over and scoops her off the couch, making her shriek in surprise. “I’m starting to wonder if your feet are on fire, since you’re having an awfully hard time sitting still, baby,” he teases.

“Nooooo!” she whines, giggling despite herself. “Put me down, they’re going to be here any minute!”

Doc laughs heartily at the two of them, but his gaze does flicker to the clock hanging on the wall. He and the other parents agreed to start the meeting at seven, and 7:01 just ticked by. It’s nothing he needs to be worried about yet, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried anyways.

Ren sways back and forth with Scarlet in his arms. “Hm, tell me why I should set my little princess down?”

“Um… Because you love me?”

He bonks his forehead against hers. “I think that makes me want to hold you just a little bit longer, actually.”

Scarlet scrunches up her face and goes to respond, but the doorbell rings before she can speak. Her eyes widen. “That’s why! They’re here!” She resumes her wiggling with full force until Ren frees her and she rushes over to the door. Her shoulder clips the wall on the way and Doc calls out a “Be careful!”, but she’s hardly paying attention to him.

Doc stands with a stretch, popping his knee joints, and follows after her. He turns the corner into the entryway just as she's opening the door. 

Waiting on the porch are the girls from Scarlet’s phone, Mumbo and Grian, as well as a tall, long-limbed man wearing a vintage band shirt with the sleeves cut off and a chain necklace. Grian and Mumbo have matching uniform sashes, though Grian went the extra mile and also has the beret. (They elected to get Scarlet the vest since they were worried about the sash falling off her shoulders and her struggling to adjust it when she's using her crutches.)

Scarlet is quick to usher them inside with happy words and exchanges of fist bumps. Ren gives Doc a thumbs-up, so he turns back to talk to the parent.

The man smiles and shakes his hand. “Hello! I'm glad to see that we’re in the right place.” Ah, Doc recognizes that voice; this is Xisuma, Mumbo’s father.

“As am I. Scarlet has been really looking forward to this troop meeting. You're welcome to stick around, of course, though I am curious—” His gaze flickers between Xisuma and the empty space behind him where there's only the door. “—Did you carpool? I was expecting to meet Grian's parents as well.”

Xisuma makes a face, but he's quick to smooth it back out. “Yes, well, something came up for them at work. And since I would be driving this direction anyways, they asked if I could help. I couldn't just leave Grian without a way to get herself here or back.”

Doc nods in understanding. “I see. Regardless, I'm glad to have you and your daughter here today, and Grian as well.” He walks back towards the rest of the house, Xisuma following so he can see his daughter’s first Buttercup Scout meeting (“and to keep an eye on Grian,” he added in a hushed voice.) The thought is nice, but it’s hardly a necessity.

Ren has corralled the girls into sitting on the couch together in front of the button machine, where the three of them joke together in unsubtle cacophony. His tail is wagging behind him and he gives Doc another thumbs-up. Xisuma nods and takes a seat on the armchair off to the side.

Doc claps his hands together to capture the room’s attention, and the group conversation slowly peters out. “Welcome,” he says, “to the first official meeting of Buttercup Scout troop M77. Today we’re going to be going over our goals for the troop and making your first official scout buttons.”

Grian unpins the large button on the top of her sash, presumably from her old troop, and limply holds it up. “Don’t most troops go to an official scout store for the button ceremony?” She props up her head on her hand. 

“That’s true, yes, but take a look at the design.” He points at it and she lowers it to get a better look at the screening, which was a simple outline of the flower in black with a yellow fill. Mumbo and Scarlet lean in to look as well. “It’s nice, but the picture is just printed on—lots of other girls have a button identical to that one. If you make your own, then no one else will have one like yours.”

Grian thinks on that for a moment before nodding and shoving the button in her pocket, seemingly mollified for the moment.

Mumbo tilts her head in thought. “Can we—are we drawing these, or…?”

Doc smiles and kneels down next to the coffee table. He slides a tub out from the small shelf attached to the underside and brandishes it for the group. It’s full of markers, colored pencils, and other art supplies from when Scarlet was younger. “Take a circle of paper from the pile next to the machine”—Scarlet reaches over to snag a few and hand them to the other girls—“and draw the design you want for your button!”

They go back to chattering amongst themselves as they draw, and Doc breathes a sigh of relief. So far, so good. Having three parents present for as many girls was definitely overkill, but he knew his Scarlet very well, and apparently Grian had a bit of a reputation. What precisely for, Doc couldn’t be certain, but it was bound to be exciting, a headache, or both.

It's not long before Ren takes the opportunity to walk around the backside of the couch and observe their work. He hums in appreciation as he does. “I like the cat face, Scarlet!” he says to her, and she beams at the praise. Doc should’ve guessed that’s what she’d make; it isn’t as if she’s been obsessed with cats since she was five, or anything like that.

Ren steps to the side to look at Mumbo’s pin, but she curls over it the second his shadow falls over her. “Don’t look at it! It’s not ready, and it’s bad, and!” She shakes her head, eyes scrunched shut. “You can look, but only once it's done.”

Ren softly agrees before she can work herself into a tizzy and leaves her to it. His expression once he gets a look at the button Grian is making has quite the strong resemblance to the face he made when he was shown that blood can be used as a substitute for eggs in baking—mostly off-put, a little confused, and just interested enough not to look away. He blinks a few times. “Er… Are you sure that's what you want to put on your Buttercup button, Grian? It's a little bit. Violent.”

Grian glares at him. “Yes.”

Xisuma murmurs under his breath, “Goodness me, not already,” and goes to stand up, but Doc gestures for him to stay seated with a flick of his wrist.

He instead ambles over with a practiced casualness, looking between his husband and all 4’11” of angry tween girl in his family room. “What seems to be the problem?” By this point, both Mumbo and Scarlet have drifted away from their own projects and keep stealing glances while trying not to look overly nosy.

Grian scoffs and holds up the paper she was working on. “I’m just sketching the design for my button. The handbook says that you can put whatever you want on a Buttercup button, and I want to draw this.”

Ah. Hm.

Really, the amount of detail she's managed to work in with just off-brand colored pencils is impressive. The shape language and clear design on the rabbit’s organs are notable, and the knife’s texture stands out well from the fur.

The handbook’s blithe statement of ‘whatever you want’ is almost certainly meant to be followed up by an unspoken ‘within reason and good sense, of course.’  Bunny viscera isn't exactly a part of the family-friendly Buttercup Scout image.

And Grian is staring him down, eyes daring him to tell her no.

Doc reaches forward and takes the drawing, telegraphing his movement enough for her to snatch the paper back if she desires. She doesn't, and he puts on airs of inspecting it closer.

“Do you draw often?” He asks.

She shifts a bit and crosses her arms. “Sometimes.”

Mumbo snorts and leans over. “Sometimes. Gri, you've filled three entire textbooks since the end of winter break.” Grian hisses and swats at her shoulder, though Mumbo just laughs in response.

Doc clears his throat and Grian snaps back into him. “I can tell you've been practicing; you're very good at this.”

“Mhm.” She doesn't sound impressed. “But…? There's always a but when people talk like that.”  She's still awaiting some specific reaction.

Doc just shrugs and hands the drawing back to her. “I’ll definitely help you make this one, but I'd prefer if you made another to be your official Buttercup button. I'm just worried that I'll get in trouble if you wear that while in uniform, since I'm your troop leader.”

Grian's face twists in confusion, though Scarlet’s eyebrows have shot up—she knows this technique well enough from her own upbringing, and she also knows well enough not to interrupt .

“...You're not telling me I have to throw this one out?” She's tense, like her unconscious mind can't decide whether or not to defensively raise her shoulders, or to completely unwind. Her gaze flickers between what she's been working on and Doc’s steady expression. “I can still make this one?”

“Sure, why not?”

For a moment, Grian doesn't have anything to say to that. 

At once, her off-kilter confusion is packed away into an uncertain, projected nonchalance. She leans forward and selects another sheet as if that has been her plan the entire time. “Whatever. I'm gonna draw my Minecraft skin.”

Mumbo perks up. “Wait, we can do that?” She crumples up her first paper and darts forward for another. “That's a much better idea!”

Scarlet bounces in her seat a little bit. “Let’s all do it! So then our buttons will match!”

Grian waves the two of them off. “I don't care; you guys can do whatever you want.” Despite that, there's a ghost of a smile threatening to break her mask of indifference.

Doc smiles at Ren (who easily returns it) in satisfaction and strolls back over to Xisuma. He raises one eyebrow in inquiry.

Xisuma’s wide eyes dart over to the rambunctious trio and back. He nods.

There's still the button ceremony, passing out number patches for their uniforms, selecting future goal events, and the closing ceremony left until the meeting is over, but in that moment, the controlled chaos is the perfect state for the meeting to be in.

As the meeting closes, Scarlet has made two buttons and two new friends. Doc couldn’t be more proud.

***

A few months later…

Doc claps his hands together and the girls fall silent. Three sets of wide, expectant eyes stare back at him. He smiles at his scouts. “Welcome back to another Buttercup Scout meeting, everyone!” With a finger held up for emphasis, he asks them, “Now scouts, who knows what we will be doing today?”

Grian smirks with self-satisfaction and casually offers, “Violating the Geneva Conventions?”

Mumbo and Scarlet giggle to each other before giving him an innocent look.

“Tax fraud?” Mumbo asks.

“Arson?” Scarlet chimes in.

Doc gasps in mock horror, hand pressed to his chest. “What?! No. No no no no, no!” The fake suggestions are a part of the routine at this point—Grian started it, Scarlet picked it up almost immediately, and Mumbo joined in a little bit later once she felt comfortable. He makes a noise like he’s considering their ideas. “Well, maybe tomorrow, but not now.”

They chorus whines of disappointment (Grian acts like she’s especially offended) and Doc continues, “Today we are going to work hard, earn some badges, and—”

Ren chooses that moment to bound back into the room. He throws his arms around the scouts in a quick hug. “And let’s sell some cookies, dudes!”

The group cheers, even anxious Mumbo, even temperamental Grian, and Scarlet is right in the middle of a group of people that care about her.

She got exactly what she wanted from the Buttercup Scouts.

Doc couldn’t be happier.

[hannahssimblr]

I get suspended, but it’s not that bad. 

The last time, when I set the toilet paper dispenser on fire, it was a lot more of a traumatising experience than this. Everyone was so concerned about me becoming an arsonist that I needed to spend several hours speaking to a child psychologist about my motivations, which I explained was boredom and a fascination with watching little pieces of one ply toilet paper burn. It was likely the most worrying thing possible that I could have said. Still, through long, tedious conversation and a thousand boring questions and hypothetical scenarios we determined by the end of the week that I am merely troublesome rather than a deliberate menace and threat to the safety of teachers and students.

This is the same personality trait that got me kicked out of the boy scouts at ten. I am a disruptive influence, and the therapist simply recommended more supervision, which I did not receive from my casually neglectful parents. At least I never set a toilet stall on fire again.

This week is more about watching TV and playing my PlayStation. I do not have to go to a psychologist to go to, just the hospital to get a trio of stitches in my head and checked for a concussion, which I don't have, and then I am back, melding to the couch, playing Grand Theft Auto IV until I am jittery and my eyes are so manic I feel like I have to manually blink them. 

My mother is extremely kind to me, which is interesting. She panicked after I arrived at Trisha Bailey’s house to collect Ivy earlier than expected last Tuesday with blood pouring from a wound in my head and promptly fainted on the parquet floor in front of two eight year old girls. She had to leave work early to come and get me, and she barely even complained about it. She’s been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since, while I, in tandem, have been making an effort to play up my injuries and fake headaches as much as possible so that she is forced to make snacks for me when she’s home from work. This is a pretty good reason to develop something like Munchausen’s Syndrome, I think. I’m actually being mothered, though it's most likely that she's worried that my dying or having brain damage would mean she'll have to hire a full time nanny or bring in another au pair from France who'll lift individual diamonds from her tennis bracelet over a period of months like the last one did.

She even brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead at one point, which feels like it is crossing a line, and is so weird that I feel urged to make a joke about it. It pisses her off and she doesn’t come near me again for the rest of the day, but that’s fine. I wanted to be alone with the TV anyway. 

One evening I go to Jen and Michelle’s, who both coo over me until I part my hair to show them my stitches, which they act disgusted by, but still, they make me snacks and coffee and tell me I am brave for standing up to Fitzy. I don’t deny it even if it’s not what I truly believe. 

Evan joins us later and acts less disgusted by the gash in my head. He wants to know about Fitzy, who he thinks is a massive dickhead, and how badly I hurt him back. I exaggerate, but figure it’s okay because he is suspended too. It’s not like anybody will see him and call me a liar. I’ll tell them that the thumbnail scratch on his cheek was intentional and they will all believe me. 

He and I go out onto the seafront and smoke together, far away from Jen, who is supposed to be off them but will beg for one if she smells them, and Michelle, the daughter of a medical doctor who shuns them and judges anyone who doesn’t. 

“I kind of wish I’d seen the fight,” Evan is saying as we stroll along in the drizzle, and the end of his cigarette crackles and glows in the haze of the night, “Just to see Willy’s stupid face when you smacked it.”

“Yeah, I mean… he looked pissed off I guess. I don’t really remember, I was all adrenaline.”

“I’ve never been in a fight.”

“You don’t want to be. It’s horrible. I only did it because-” I break off and shrug, “Well, you know why, I suppose.”

I see him peering at me from the corner of my eye as I look over the bay, “Is she worth it?”

I sigh, “Yeah, sure. I don’t know. I think it’s complicated. I don’t regret it but I don’t know if she’d appreciate it either, like she might say that defending her like that is too intense.”

“Is that because you’re not properly together?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. She should be grateful,” Evan says around a mouthful of smoke, and I don't respond. 

“What’s she like?”

I don’t really know how to answer, “Um, she’s nice, she’s, like, sweet under this cool-girl exterior, and really smart.”

Evan laughs, “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just asking, you know, since she’s supposedly pretty experienced and all that…I just was curious…”

“Oh,” I scratch my head, careful to avoid my stitches which itch almost constantly, “Are you, like, asking me what sex is like? I dunno, man, stick your finger in your mouth. It’s like that times a million.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’ve done it. Christ sake. I was just wondering if it ever gets better.”

I pause as I try to determine whether he’s really trying to have a heart to heart with me or if I'm just picking him up wrong. Either way it's a bit awkward, and I don’t know what to say other than, “Yeah, man, I mean, I don’t know what your situation is or anything but it gets a lot better,” I flick my cigarette onto the path and immediately start pulling another out of the packet. Not that I usually smoke more than one at a time, it’s just I am hoping my fumbling around will interrupt this conversation. 

It doesn’t. 

“Michelle is pretty shy, you know, during,” He admits, and my face burns. I really do not want to think about them that way. 

“Most girls are shy. We’re still pretty young.”

“Yeah but, I dunno, it bothers me a bit, and then I see guys like you and girls like Alison and I think that you must have it all figured out. Do you know what I mean?”

“We don’t really, we’re all just kind of muddling our way through.”

“Yeah, but you must have- I mean, you always have a girlfriend.”

I’m surprised he even paid that much attention to me, “Yeah, most of the girls I’ve gone out with never wanted to do anything more than kiss.”

His eyebrows vanish under his fringe, “Really?”

“Yeah, they’re mostly not ready for anything else. It’s fine, I’m okay with it because it’s just part of how it goes. I just focus on how lucky I feel when someone does want to… let me.”

“Like Alison.”

“Yeah.”

“I think everything kind of makes sense now,” he smirks, eyes flicking to my head wound, and I’m certain that whatever he is thinking about me now, my motives and my reasoning for fighting my friend in the changing rooms, he is most likely wrong. 

“Look,” I stop walking and wave my cigarette around vaguely, “you guys will figure it out, huh? I don’t know what to tell you about it. She really seems to like you, so,”

“Yeah,” he says glumly, “I like her too, it’s just that I wish some things were better. Like, she’s barely allowed to come out at night and hang out.”

“Yeah, I suppose that's because her parents are strict.”

“Right! Her mam always gets so annoyed about her being out too late, and then it’s a big drama, and Shell wants to talk about how annoyed she is, and I’m like, why does your mam even care about what you do? You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’d be nice if it were different, but,” I shrug, “You know it’s not for nothing, right? Like, I hate to be the guy that defends someone’s strict parents or whatever, but if they’re not strict on Michelle then they can’t be strict on Jen, and if they’re not strict on Jen, well,” I exhale a lungful of smoke, “You know how it is.”

“It’s annoying though.”

“You’ll have to learn to enjoy Michelle in the light of day, and if you stay together until college then you can do whatever you like.”

“College?” He echoes, pulling a face as though the suggestion of waiting that long is ludicrous and unfathomable, but college doesn’t seem so far away for me. I’m counting down. Fifteen months until we are finished school, I will have one last long, empty summer and then I will leave, I’ll vanish into thin air leaving behind nothing but the shadow of a boy, an imprint on a couch cushion, an unmade bed and a cereal bowl in the sink.

I already have September 2010 circled in bold red marker on a calendar with arrows and asterixis all around it because that's it, freedom. That’s when I will get on a plane and go somewhere far from here and never speak to anybody from this town again. Jen and Ivy and a select few others are the only ones who will know my whereabouts. College, to me, has been aspirational before I was even a teenager.

Evan hasn’t even thought that far ahead. 

“You can probably stick it out until then,” I say flatly, “If you’re in love or whatever.”

“Uh, yeah totally, I think we are. I think we’re good together, so I can probably just learn to deal with it.”

“It's worth it,” I don’t know why it would be hard anyway. Evan is so lucky. If I was in his position and had a girl who loved me like Michelle apparently loves him I don’t think any sacrifice would be too much. I'd be on top of the world. I only get to see her during the day? Wow, how lucky I’d feel just to be able to do just that. Eighteen months until we have the freedom to do whatever we like with our time together? What’s eighteen months? If it was real love with someone then I’d happily wait years. Maybe Evan is just a bit stupid or something. 

I drop a hand onto his shoulder, forgetting that sudden movements shock him, and he leaps about a meter in the air. I clear my throat as he gathers himself again. “You’ll figure it out.” I say.

He wants to go back to Michelle’s house where it’s warm and dry, but I’d rather take a walk by the sea for a while. Several days of being cooped up inside have made me feel all soft and cosy, which Doherty would probably say isn’t a good way to feel. He’d want me to take a bracing dip in the sea or run fifteen kilometres in the driving rain just to feel life pumping through my veins on a day like this. Thinking of his big bald head and angry face prompts me to flick my half smoked cigarette away and leave it smouldering in the cycle path. 

I should stop doing unhealthy things. 

I take out my phone and text Alison. 

Are you around?

I’m at home

Want company?

ok come over

Beginning // Prev // Next

[ravennaortiz]

Halloween SOA Day 8: Dolls

Summary: Little joke gets played on our sweet Tig

“What do you think?” questioned Juice as the two of you finished walking your dads place while he told you his plan. “First, I think it’s great. Second, I hope you realize he will want revenge. Third, keep my name out of your confession” you replied with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah” replied Juice with a shrug of his shoulders as he shot you a goofy grin. “The opportunity is too good to pass up” he added as the two of you moved to the front of the house. “Uh-Huh. Well I will go pick him up from the clubhouse and leave you to your plan. Text me if you need more time but I’ll have him here by 11pm if I don’t hear different” you replied before kissing his cheek and walking out the door. Juice smiled to himself as he started opening boxes and sorting his electronic equipment. This was gonna be his most epic prank.

11pm the next night

“Thanks for joining me dad” you stated as you pulled your car into the driveway of his house. “Anything for you baby girl. I had a fun time. We need to do more father daughter things” stated Tig as he kissed your forehead before getting out of the car. “Agreed Dad, love ya” you replied before watching him make his way into his house. Once he was inside you backed out and drove around the block before parking behind Juices motorcycle. “You shouldn’t have your doors unlocked at night” stated Juice as he hopping into your passenger seat with his laptop. “Really?” you replied as you rolled your eyes and laughed. “All kinds of wierdos lurk in the dark” replied Juice with a grin as you playfully smacked his arm. “Lets just get the footage up Ortiz” you  replied as you shook your head.

Inside the house

Tig walked though his house without turning any lights on. He dropped his keys by the door, kicked his boots off there and hung his kutte on the hook before making his way to his bathroom for a shower. Tig was washing off when he thought he heard a childlike laughter. He paused before shaking his head at the idea. As he stepped out he screamed as two dolls popped out from under his sink laughing. He fell back into the shower pulling his curtain down around him. Once he had recovered he muttered angrily to himself. He knew he shouldn’t have told Opie about his fear of dolls at the wax museum a couple of weeks ago. It had become all the club could talk about and he had been fining dolls and such since but so far no one had had the nerve to desecrate his home with them. Grabbing his robe he wrapped himself in it before moving to his bedroom where he was greeted by dolls everywhere. They hung from his fan, were tucked into his bed, peeking out from drawers. Tig sighed heavily as he rubbed his face before heading to his kitchen for trash bags.

Car

“Him not changing will be a fatal mistake for the finale” laughed Juice as the two of you watched your dad start to toss dolls into a trash bag. “This is better than I imagined” you chuckled.

1 hour later

“Fuck this” muttered Tig for the hundredth time as he tossed what he hoped was the last bag of dolls out of his house. He had been amazed at how many different sizes there had been and the fact they had not only been in the bedroom but also the kitchen and living room. His nerves were frayed from the lifelike movements, spontaneous giggles they emitted and the jump scares some had performed. Before Tig could close the door he thought he heard footsteps. “Hello” he called cautiously as he turned around. He instantly regretted leaving his gun in his room. “Help” called a woman’s voice weakly making him step outside to look around. As he did so his back porch light dimmed some. Not seeing anything or hearing anything else Tig shook his head and went to go back inside. “Here’s Dolly” called a high pitched voice as he turned coming face to face with a life sized doll. Tig screamed and stumbled back as the Doll dropped to all fours and started running at him laughing. He scrambled backwards on his hands and ass before finally getting up and running towards his front yard. Once he rounded the front he was confronted by two more dolls and as he turned towards the street he saw three more. Tig was so invested in running for his life and trying to keep his robe closed e didn’t even notice his daughter car or Juices bike as he ran past them trying to get to help.

Car

“Ten dolls Juice?” you laughed as you watched the pack of dolls chase you r dad down the street and around the next corner. Juice shrugged as he had the dolls turn away as Tig darted up to Clay and Gemma’s front door. “I mean it could have been more” he laughed as he texted a prospect to pick the dolls up while you two drove to the clubhouse to show the others.

[oothepinksquidoo]

Great uncle Ebenezer .★. Scrooge x reader one-shot

Dayum, I'm on a roll with these chapters Huh? Go me ig LMFAO again with is a oneshot for my book (check it out if you like, it's on Ao3 or wattpad, whatever you prefer!)

Summary: You get an unexpected letter from a special friend, the news of a child being born comes as a thrill to you! Greater panic for Ebenezer

I guess a little angsty warning? Ngl it's mainly fluff

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

It was a new day in London, the snow was slowly decreasing very slowly, yet any time it did more would come the very next day. I couldn't complain though, the wintery weather always gave London a special feeling to it, something I couldn't explain even if I tried. 

It was early in the morning, I was in the Bakery with Ebenezer. He decided to tag along for the opening while also helping me make space for the new tables and chairs that Ebenezer had bought for the shop. He really was a sweetheart, anything I could possibly imagine he tried his best to get that very thing to me. 

Some mail fell through the letterbox, I walked over and grabbed it, expecting the usual work things and a few orders. I was sorting the letters into piles when one caught my attention, “Huh?”

Ebenezer looked over after he finished moving a table into place, “What is it, darling?”

“It’s a letter from Harry.” I replied opening it, “He usually comes in to order, he never places an order by mail.” I gasped once I read the letter, “Oh my days!”

Dear Y/n,

I hope you are well, I apologise I haven't visited in a while, I do miss you even if it's only week a week or so. But I do have a good reason! 

Hela and I have finally had the little extension to our family, our original two has finally become three. The baby came a little earlier than we expected but she is doing extremely well! I hope you come by to see our daughter, 

P.s, if you do come by, could you bring some of your delicious crumble you make? I’ll pay for it of course haha!

Your dearest Friend, Harry

I read the letter outloud for Ebenezer to hear, he stood there in complete shock. He frowned slightly, “Hela was pregnant?”

“Uh, yes? She has been for the last… eight and a half months?” I joked, “To be fair, she was incredible at hiding it. But isn't it wonderful? You're a great uncle now!”

Ebenezer looked at me blankly, “Yes, quite. I uh… Is Hela alright? She has no… health problems?”

My face dropped when I finally caught onto why Ebenezer was not as excited as me, “Ebenezer, I assure you Hela is perfectly healthy.” I cupped Ebenezer’s face, “Look at me, dear.” I spoke softly, it took a second but eventually he did listen, “I understand your fear, believe me I do. Hela is in safe hands, and if anything were to go wrong, we can get the best healthcare in London.”

“Yes.” Ebenezer replied, “You're quite right, as usual. I just can't help but fear the worst. Not only did I lose a sister that day, that very boy lost his mother. I couldn't imagine the agony of losing the love of his life too.”

I gave him a comforting hug, “You know, I have a feeling Harry may feel the same way too.”

“He most likely is…” Ebenezer sighed, “I must go see him. Are you coming too?”

I nodded, “I would never give up an opportunity to go see my bestest friends! I think I have some spare crumble in the back…” I hummed in thought.

Ebenezer looked down at the letters that sat on the table as I rushed to the kitchen, “Are you not going to open any of the rest?” he shouted so I could hear him.

“I’ll open them later, we have more important stuff to tend to!” I replied, walking back to the front with a tin of crumble.

“Why on earth do you just have a tin of crumble in the back already?” Ebenezer asked as he grabbed a basket for me to place the tin in.

“Harry practically always orders it every week, apple crumble is his go to.” I explained as I linked arms with Ebenezer.

We both walked out of the shop, talking Eagerly about the news of the new baby. It was most thrilling to think about! Though I still could see that Ebenzer was worried, with every step closer to Harry’s house I could feel his grip on my arm getting tighter. I comfortingly rubbed his arm as we got to his house.

“It’ll be okay, Ebenezer.” I comfortingly spoke, Ebenezer nodded, hesitantly knocking on the door.

Not long after, the door opened, it was Harry. He grinned widely, pulling me into a hug before evening speaking. “Y/n, I’m so glad you could come.”

“I wouldn't miss seeing the little one for the world.” I replied, giving him a little squeeze before pulling away, I looked up at Ebnezer who was extremely quiet. “I think your Uncle is a little anxious, is Hela alright, Harry?” 

“She’s doing just fine, perfectly actually! There were no complications at all.” Harry replied, he put out his hand for Ebenezer to shake, “I’m so glad you're here uncle, I was going to come round to the shop to tell you the news first, but I thought I should be here with Hela.” 

 Unexpectedly, Ebenezer pulled him into a hug, sighing deeply when he heard the news. “I’m so proud of you and Hela, my boy.” Ebenezer admitted, “I promise I’ll always be here if you need me, I won't be the fool I have been the previous years.”

The biggest smile I had ever seen on Harry shone brightly on Harry’s face. I could see a few tears in his eyes as he welcomed us into his house, “Please, do make yourself at home, I think I hear Hela in the living room.”

We both walked in and straight to the living room. It was lit warmly by the fireplace. Hela looked up at us, and there was the new baby, in her arms asleep soundly. She cautiously walked over to us, “I’m so glad you two could come.” 

“May I introduce you to, Elizabeth Jen Huffam.” Harry said with a proud smile on his face.

Hela handed the baby over to me, I smiled warmly, gently rocking the infant, “She’s beautiful Hela, she looks just like you two.” I looked up at Ebenezer, “Doesn't she just?”

Ebenezer looked down at the baby with tears in his eyes, “She does, and she looks like your mother, when she was a baby.” He wiped the tear that fell down his face.

“Would you like to have a hold, my love?” I asked, I could see he was slightly nervous at doing such a thing, “Why don't you sit on the Sofa, I’ll hand her over to you.”

Ebenezer nodded, sitting on the Sofa so he could hold his little niece. “She is truly wonderful.” He seemed paralyzed by his happiness, gazing at the infant with such care. Elizabeth opened her eyes, Ebenezer smiled even more when he realised that they too were the same colour of his little sister’s and his in fact.

“Why don't we go make some tea.” Hela said to me as she walked over the room, leaving Ebenzer and Harry with Elizabeth,

I followed Hela with a smile, “That child is going to be spoiled rotten you know.”

“I can tell already,” She laughed, “I can see it in his eyes.” She placed some cups on the counter while I got the water to boil. “And Harry too had the same look when he first saw her.”

“So, how has Harry been?” I asked, “I assume he was also worried about you, with his mother and all.”

“I've never seen him so scared before, the past week and a half he’s hardly let me do anything that meant I had to move out of either the bedroom or living room,” She chuckled, thinking about her husband, “He is an incredible man.” She spoke as she placed some tea bags in cups. 

“I know.” I replied as I poured the water into the cups, “And He will be an incredible father.”

“Have you thought about children yet with Ebenezer?” Hela asked as she finished making the tea.

“We have actually, well sort of. I mentioned a bit ago, he is incredible with the Cratchit children.” I replied, “Though, I think that will come with time. He may be a changed man, but I don't think he’s quite ready.” 

“I quite agree.” Hela nodded, carrying some of the cups, I carried the rest as we walked back to the sitting room, “But I know, when you two are ready, you’ll make great parents.” 

We walked in the room, placing the cups down. Ebenezer was still holding little Elizabeth, well, it appeared as though Elizabeth was holding him. Her hand was tightly gripping his finger, smiling happily.

“I think Elizabeth quite likes her Uncle,” Harry laughed, taking a drink of the tea. “My, this is gorgeous thank you, dears.” 

My eyes were still on Ebenezer, who was totally focused on Elizabeth. The more I looked at her, the more I could see Jen, and I believe that is precisely why Ebenezer was so fixated on her. 

After a while, we all walked out of the sitting room. Harry wanted to show off his designing skills with the baby room, Meanwhile Ebenezer stayed back, still with Elizabeth, her beautiful blue eyes gazing up at her uncle.

Ebenezer stood up, walking over to the portrait, “My dear Jen, I may not have been there for your own son as he grew up, but I promise I will never make that same, selfish mistake twice. And... I’ll do everything possible to have her grow up without the constant battle of illness.” He looked down at the child in his arms, “I’ll do everything I possibly can to make sure you are happy.”

Ebenezer didn't know this, But I stood at the doorway the whole time, my eyes were filled with tears as I watched him. I already knew he was going to be the best dad he possibly could be, but this moment just confirmed it. I knew we weren't at all ready for that stage in life, but when that day does arrive, I’ll be the happiest woman to walk the streets of London. 

[dragonmasterhiccup]

“Okay, a week it is, if you need me to do it longer than that though, just let me know.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, the final chapter.”

“Hiccup, whether you want me to feel like that or not, it doesn’t really matter.” Her voice wasn’t firm, nor was it accusatory, it was just… normal, like she was stating a fact or merely having a casual conversation.

She felt like she’d matured in that way; being able to say what she felt without worrying about what others might say. Maybe it wasn’t ‘mature,’ but more so just her being more carefree than she was in the past. “In my eyes, I do owe you something, probably more than what I can give you, but… what I can give you is help, whether that be something as simple as flying Toothless, or something stupidly complicated like… yeah, actually, I don’t know, you’ve never really asked for anything super complicated… but still, you know what I mean.”

Danny continued looking at her niece, a soft smile on her face as the baby played with her finger. “I can tell!” She giggled once again as Zephyr reached for a second finger.

“That would be a horror. Gods, I’d feel so bad for her, I think everybody in the village would.”

She looked up at Hiccup momentarily, her expression one of disgust. “No, that better not happen, because I’m sorry Mr. ‘Yours Truly,’ but you’re horrendous.” She scoffed. “Yeah, if she’s as reckless as you, I wish you and Astrid luck, thought mostly Astrid, she doesn’t deserve to put up with that.”

Very, very carefully, she stood back up, Zephyr in arms, and handed her back to her father. “I’m happy for you and Astrid. You guys are lucky, y’know, Zephyr too. But seriously, Hiccup, don’t mess this up.” Her voice held a joking edge to it, but she still sounded serious.

Stretching her arms, she continued. “Okay, well, I should probably go, Astrid might be back soon, and you guys probably want more time together. Eret said I could come help him with the traders today anyways, so I have to go do that. Thanks for letting me meet her,” she said, picking up her sketchbook and heading towards the door. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Walking out of his hut, she added, “Get some actual sleep by the way! You look like you just came back from the dead.” And with that, she closed the door, going about her day.

(Didn’t know if you wanted to do the time skip or not, so I left it up to you! 😝)

Look at her gratefully, he nodded. "I will, thanks."

Grinning mischievously, he said, "Well, you're an aunt now! That should make you feel old too, then, shouldn't it?"

Nodding, he took in her words. "I think I do." He still didn't like it, but she was right, it didn't matter what he said, it wouldn't change her mind in the slightest.

But, it was okay. He was just happy to have her as a sister now. They've certainly been through a lot in the short time they've known each other, and that just made them closer.

Laughing, he agreed. "Yeah, Astrid definitely deserves better than the likes of me, that's for sure. If Zephyr does grow up to be reckless, I'll do what I can to help her tone it down a notch."

Zephyr appeared unfazed as she was placed in Hiccup's arms again, and the new father was more than happy to hold his daughter once more.

Holding Zephyr close, he looked up at Danny. "I know, sometimes it feels like it's not real quite yet, of course that could be the lack of sleep, but...you know me, Danny. I'm going to do whatever I can to not mess this up."

He was surprised she was leaving so quickly, but then remembered he was asleep for most of her visit. "Ah. Well, thanks for coming by! And 'let you meet her'? You knew it was only a matter of time, right?"

Smiling at his sister, he said, "You're pretty busy these days, too, aren't you? You're becoming a seamless part of Berk, just like you've always wanted. I knew you could do it!"

He was too shocked by her last comment to respond before she left. Holding Zephyr up, he asked her, "I don't look that bad, do I?"

Zephyr looked back at him, gumming her fist.

"Maybe we should get more sleep...."

----

"Hey, Zeph? Don't listen to anything your Aunt Danny says about me. Well, anything bad."

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

Almost two weeks later, Hiccup was back to his regular Chiefly responsibilities, and Astrid was cleared by Gothi to do archery again.

There was just one adjustment: Hiccup now wore a sling, Zephyr comfortably nestled inside.

Astrid couldn't take her to practice archery, so Hiccup happily took his daughter to work with him.

As long as he had Zephyr with him, he wasn't flying, as he wasn't sure it would be safe for her to do so, being so fragile. So, Toothless was off with Luna for the day.

As he made his way through the village, he spotted his sister, so he caught her eye and gave a wave before walking up to her.

"Hey! How are things?"

[niennandil-me-writes]

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 9 - Daddy Issues

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

cn: family problems, bigotry

Turing spends the next weeks combing through the memory data, but without any success. Any leads they find just terminate in dead ends as the data becomes eaten up by glitches, corruptions or the memories just cut off at the wrong point. What they do find in new information - mostly more insight on Sarah - doesn’t lead anywhere substantive either, not even when they cross-reference the mesh.

I asked Lexi to keep her eyes and ears open, since she is meddling with extra-legal activity as part of her job. She finds some people claiming to have contact to military androids who are willing to do dirty deeds for the right pay, but it all seems very dubious. The same results from Crow’s side.

I continue searching the mesh for mentions of Dekker and other combat androids, reading my way through accounts of violent crimes attributed to them. For some reason, it doesn’t trigger my trauma as much as even the happiest of Dekker’s memories did. 

None of this gives us any information on Dekker’s family. It’s like his entire existence has been scrubbed of the mesh, and the world at large, which seems a particularly cruel fate for him. If it weren’t for my own pride, I would consider talking to Flores again.

At least my writing is going well. My editor has been sending me notes the last weeks, and together we give the text the last polish. I’m particularly proud of the chapter describing the events in Parallax’ server room, though I still have to think of a good pseudonym for Dekker. While most of what Flores said left me bitter, I do agree with her that his full name doesn’t need to be known, especially now that we might involve his daughter. So far all I got is his name with some letters shuffled around.

It's one of the last days of summer, though the heat is not any less intense for it, burning down on the market street and making the air flimmer. That’s Neo San Francisco for you. Turing, Lexi and I fled inside the Hassy bar, where we ordered some of Ramona’s newest creations: the Iced Hassy Hot Cup.

We are surprised to see Chad and Oli here as well, who are enjoying one of the last days of their summer break before it’s back to school. Oli is having a deep conversation with Ramona about a new VR drama, while Chad leans cooly against the counter and pretends he doesn’t care, though he keeps chiming in with opinions on one particular character he seems to identify with a lot.

“Hey, no loitering!” Lexi calls over to him as a joke.

“What?” Chad yells. “What are you, a cop?”

“Chad...” Oli puts a hand on his arm. “That’s the lady who arrested us for spraying graffiti in November.”

Chad flinches back.

“Relax, I haven’t worn the badge for months now,” Lexi says, leaning back against the cushioned seat with her Hassy.

“Oh, yeah,” Chad says. “So you can’t do nuthin’ to us. We could trash the whole place, and you couldn’t stop us!” He climbs on the nearest empty table, garnering looks.

“I could,” Ramona interjects. “And I will.”

“Chad, please don’t get us banned from this place,” Oli pleads. “I like it here. And I like Ramona.”

“Fine, I’ll not trash this place,” Chad gives in. “But not because I’m scared or anything. I just like hanging out here. You don’t piss where you drink.”

“Especially because after this performance, I’m not letting you use the restroom,” Ramona says.

“Come off that table, Starfucker, and sit with us,” I call up to the boy.

“Hey, you called me it.” Chad grins and jumps off the table that starts dangerously teetering. “Oli, you haven’t called me it in ages.”

“Do you sign like that on your college applications as well?” Oli asks as he walks over to our table, rolling his eyes.

“For the art schools, yes.”

“Wait, I thought your dad was against art school?” Oli says.

“Yeah, he wants me to go to law school, so I can do the HR’s work in court,” Chad explains. “Which sounds boring as fuck.”

“I’d love to see you face off against Jess,” I say. “That would end in a cat fight.”

“The only way you should ever be in court is as a defendant,” Lexi notes.

“I’m sending out applications to art schools anyway,” Chad says. “And even if Dad won’t support me, I know Mom’s got my back.”

“Wait, I thought you weren’t in contact anymore?” Oli asks. “After the whole, uh, gene splicing thing?”

Chad looks embarrassed. “She, erm, actually reached out to me last month. So we met up. Kept it secret from Dad, he wouldn’t understand.”

Oli’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Chad, that’s amazing!”

“No big deal. We just talked,” he scoffs. “Caught up a bit. I was never really into the HR stuff anyways.”

“That’s sweet,” Ramona says. “I can’t believe your father would separate a family over some bigoted ideas about purity. That’s straight up evil.”

“I am very happy for you, Starfucker,” Turing says.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all happy for me.” Chad blushes, brushing his hand over his face in a way that makes it look like he’s trying to punch the tears out of his eyes. “Anyways, we talked a bit about my plans for the future. And Mom said she supports my decisions, and that she’d pay for art school. Said that’s what parents are for, after all.”

There’s a loud crashing sound as this time, a table does fall over, drinks flying through the air and to the floor. Oli has to dodge out of the way.

“Damn it, I just cleaned there!” Ramona cries out. “And it’s my shift as well! The ROM’s on break.”

“We are so sorry,” Turing says. “We will help you clean up.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Lexi asks me.

I’m staring ahead, my mind racing. Then I turn to Lexi: “Can you get us access to Fairlight’s finance accounts?”

“What?” She looks at me in confusion. “Did your drink have too much caffeine?”

“Did you figure out a way to track Fairlight?” Turing wants to know, their face a question mark.

“But some of the brightest minds in the country already looked through everything he left behind,” Lexi explains. “And they didn’t find anything. TOMCAT included. Besides, the accounts are all frozen.”

“They weren’t looking for this,” I say. “And it’s not Fairlight I am trying to find. So can you give me access or do I have to ask TOMCAT?”

“I can try to call in a few favors,” Lexi says, still confused.

“What did you find out?” Turing asks.

“It’s what Chad said,” I explain. “A good parent secures their child’s future, even if they might not be able to be there for them.”

[loveaffaire]

Listen to me… dad’s friend!Bucky + reader

Bonus points if Steve is the father of the reader jensjsks

Almost Caught

Pairing: Dad’s bestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings/tags: mentions of sex, making out, slight hair pulling, pet names (doll), age gap (reader is 21 and Bucky is… 106), Steve cameo<3, reader calls Steve ‘daddy’ but in a normal father way, obviously🧍🏻‍♀️& credits to The Amazing Spider-Man for the cocoa scene (so TASM spoilers? lol)— 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all wild, Steve is gonna beat the shit out of his old pal, Buck, if he ever found out🤠

🤍Written for my 1k sleepover🤍

You were laying on your bed and scrolling through social media when you heard your window glass sliding up, your head shot up and there he was, Bucky.

“Fuck” Bucky whispered, almost breaking the vase on your study table as he practically crawled through your window and fell on the hard floor of your room.

You giggled, eyes quickly checking for the lock on your door and making sure it was locked.

“Bucky!” You gushed, getting off the bed and walking to where Bucky was still sitting on the floor, brushing his jeans off.

“You need to tell Steve that you need a bigger, wider window” he said, slightly pouting.

“And tell him what?” You rolled your eyes, “Dad, your best friend sneaks into my room every night and it’s tough for him to get through my small window, can we please get a wider window?”

He smiled, any sign of distress leaving his face when his eyes landed on your face, “shut up”

He stood up, his 6'0" figure hovering over you as he looked down at you with a glint in his blue eyes, “come here, give me a kiss”

You instantly stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips, your lips softly pressed to his as he pulled your body closer.

You were 13 years old when you were sent to a boarding school far away from school, your parents, Steve and Natasha were too busy being Captain America and Black Widow for the country to keep you around. You were safer in the boarding school, anyway.

When you returned 5 years later, now 18 years old, you only saw Bucky once on a weekend for an Avengers get-together and then you were off to college. Three years there and then you were back home, taking a gap year for various internship opportunities.

That’s when you bumped into Bucky. Even though he's been staying in the Avengers’ compound for years, he only ever hung out with your parents or Sam or spent most of his time reading. So when you had found him in the library one day, a conversation was sparked up and since then, you were inseparable.

He was always around you, you were always around him and one day, when he got you alone in the middle of the large bookshelves in the library, he had kissed you and you happily kissed him back.

The guilt ate away at Bucky for a good few weeks, the thought of doing this to Steve made Bucky feel disgusted with himself, but every time his eyes landed on you, he couldn’t help feeling like a lovesick little boy.

So here you stood, in your bedroom, 3 months later with Bucky holding you against him with his lips on yours. It was wrong but it just didn’t feel like it, sure you had to hide from everyone but that’s what made it even more exciting.

The innocent kiss turned into something a bit more steamy as he roughly pulled you up, easily picking you up by the back of your thighs and placing you on your study table. The second he pushed between your legs with a little force, a whimper left your mouth and just then, there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N?”

You froze when you heard your father’s voice, gripping Bucky’s henley in your hands with wide eyes but as soon as you came to your senses, you quickly pushed on his shoulders and reached for the door and Bucky quickly duked down behind the loveseat.

“Honey, do you want some cocoa, mom’s making some cocoa!”

You opened the door, just enough to stick your head out. Your breath was shaky, chest heaving up and down, “no, dad, I do not want cocoa, honestly I’m 21 years old”

You father looked at you confused but the frown on his face turned into a smirk as he said, “okay, I just thought I remember somebody saying last week that her fantasy was to live in a chocolate house”

You heard a soft snicker from inside your room and your eyebrows shot up, “well, that’s impractical” you shut the door but opened it again, “and fattening,” you shut the door again.

You turned back and saw Bucky with his chin resting on the top of the loveseat, “chocolate house?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes as you opened the door and saw your father standing there with a frown on his face once again, “sorry dad”

“It’s okay I—”

“I can’t have um cocoa right now, I’m- I’m working, I’m doing this, I’m- I have cramps!”

“Oh”

“Yes, I feel pukey and emotional, I’ve been crying—”

“Alright that’s—”

“It’s gross, I can’t have cocoa,” you gulped.

“Good good” your father shook his head, looking at the wall behind you.

“It’s brutal, you don’t wanna know” you whispered, making a gagging expression.

“Got it, that’s- I got it” your father nodded, turning around, he threw a thumbs up in the air.

“Thanks, daddy” you yelled out, shutting your door and locking it.

You rested your forehead on the door and sighed. Bucky sneaked up behind you and softly grabbed you by the waist, he kissed your exposed skin on your shoulder, his lips were warm on your skin.

“He could have caught you,” you whispered, moving away from him.

Bucky grasped your wrist, pulling you back to him and you stumbled back on his hard chest, “but he didn’t”

He leaned in, attaching his lips to yours, he softly tugged on your hair and you whimpered. As your lips fell open, he was quick to sneak his tongue inside your mouth and you moaned against his lips.

“Bucky, wait” you pulled away, shaking your head at him, “you should leave because what if dad becomes like- I don’t know- suspicious”

“But I don’t want to leave” Bucky whined like a little kid as he tugged on the hem of your tank top.

“He’ll kill you if he finds you here” you rolled your eyes at him, falling back on the bed.

“Did you know back in our days, Steve opposed 117 nations to protect me?” Bucky smirked, “he’s not gonna hurt me”

He crawled on top of you, resting his hands on either side of your shoulders. You’ve heard about the incident that broke up the Avengers a million times, Tony and your dad never stopped joking about it at the get-togethers.

“Well, back in your days, you weren’t fucking his daughter” you smirked, your eyes squinting at him.

“I haven’t fucked you” he whispered, “yet”

“It’s only been 3 months, I’ll make you wait a little more” you said, your voice smug.

“Well, I’ve still been to places… your places” he said, his voice low and filled with lust, “do you remember that time I tasted you? My pretty doll tasted so good for me—”

You pulled yourself up on your elbows, pecking his lips and shushing him. Not wanting him to see you so flushed, you rolled over with him under you now and your lips landed on his neck, you were quick to leave a pretty lovebite on him.

As you continued your work on his neck, with his head thrown back and soft moans falling out of his lips, you felt his bulge pressing between your thighs. He gripped your hips and lifted himself off the bed, desperately trying to feel you against him.

“Okay” you huffed and sat on his lap, you teased him by pushing a little harder on his bulge, “that’s enough waiting”

He quickly nodded, “3 months is a lot of waiting, yeah” his voice was shaky, neck red from the heat creeping up to his face.

“You wanna fuck me?” you whispered, nudging your face closer to his as he sat up with you still on his lap.

“So badly, doll” he said, resting his hands on your waist.

“Get to it then” you softly giggled, getting off his lap and crawling up on the bed.

You rested your back against the headboard and you removed your cotton shorts, spreading your legs wide open for Bucky to see the dampened spot on your underwear. As he looked at your face twisting in pleasure when you softly brushed your fingers over your clothed cunt, he was sure he was going to devour you tonight. He was going to absolutely wreck you.

I had to leave it at that, whatever happened after that was wild and they broke the bed so yeah🤠

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

[mandoalorian]

Sinner [Dark!Din Djarin x F!Reader] *SMUT*

Summary: The Mandalorian has been attending confession for weeks now, with the sole intensive purpose to see you. 

Rating: 18+ smut

Warnings: Dark!Din, implied age difference, religion kink (don’t come for me...), sex in a place of worship, smut: loss of virginity, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected p in v, cunningless, death mention, alcohol mention, brothel mention. 

Word Count: 4000+

Masterlist

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!<3

He’d been coming to confess for about a year now. He’d gone off the rails when he lost the kid. You’d heard rumours about the Mandalorian — strong, fierce, brave... a warrior. You certainly wouldn’t have pinned him for a man of faith. You’d seen him a few times when you were shadowing your father in church. He was tall, broad shouldered, and only came during the dead of night, when the abbey was completely isolated.

“Hello,” you greeted him, your soft voice echoing throughout the chambers. Your crimson red heels clicked against the marble floor beneath you as you approached the masked figure. Curtseying politely and removing your hood, you couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes in the direction the Mandalorian. “It’s quite late. I was just closing for the night.” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip in hope that he’d understand.

“I thought places of worship aren’t supposed to close?” He countered quizzically, an air of amusement in his voice. 

“You’re right, technically,” you hummed, picking at your nails as a wash of nerves flooded over you. “But my father is out of town and... I need to sleep.”

That’s where he recognised you from— you were the daughter of the Grand Bishop. He’d seen you before, doting around the abbey in your signature black gown and red robes. You were hard to miss, your beauty being beyond standards of measure. Yes, he knew you. He had noticed you watching him from the pillars above, when you thought nobody was looking. He noticed the way you’d deliberately brush past his body... desperate for just the slightest touch. He recognised your scent too; it was sweet like honey. And your ruby coloured lips. He’d dreamt of them plenty of times. It was really you.

“Where is he?” The Mandalorian asked after a beat of prolonged silence.

“He was requested by Senator Berenko to present evening mass on Naboo, for the Festival of Lights.” you explained, probably offering a little too much information.

“When will he be back?”

“Next week.”

“Well, I’ll be back then.” 

No, you couldn’t just let him leave. You couldn’t just let him walk away from you. This was your chance. In a fluster, you extended your arm and pawed at his bicep. He froze under your touch, and you hoped that you hadn’t overstepped. 

“Are— you’re here to confess. Aren’t you?” you asked him with a nervous gulp. Maker, why were you so nervous? The Mandalorian didn’t say anything, so you heeded to continue. “I’ve seen you come by before. I know you speak to my father usually but— I can do it. The confession, I mean. I’ve been shadowing my father for the past few months— training with him. I can do it. If... if you’d like me to.”

The Mandalorian took a moment to process your words. Maker; you were a sight to behold. Your eyes were starry and reflective of the galaxy he’d spent so long venturing. Your skin was soft and delicate. You were pure— untouched— holy. He was afraid the discussion of his sins might be a bit too much for you to handle. 

Or maybe there was something more.

Maybe he was afraid that once he’d start opening up to you, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to resist you.

“Aren’t you a little young?” The Mandalorian scoffed incredulously, bringing his leather gloved hand to his helmet, his thumb grazing the cloth between his chin and his neck. His rude manner didn’t surprise you at all, but yet, you kept a strong posture and held your head high.

“I’m old enough.” you declared, not ripping your gaze from him once. Even through the dark tinted visor of his helmet, it felt like you were looking into his eyes, staring deep into his soul. 

So, he agreed. You told him to wait in the confession box by the altar. “I won’t be long, I just have to lock up and turn out the lights.”

As you walked down the aisle, you lit a match and ignited some candles. They were tall and made from beeswax, and the flicking amber flames provided barely enough light. But it had to be enough. It had to do. The wax dripped down the sculptures and chambersticks, pooling into swirls of hardening ivory. 

The Mandalorian waited for you in the confession box, having already discarded the plates of his beskar armour. It was hard to wear, and heavy on his back, but he felt safe… here, with you. He had no reason to be still wearing it. No more fighting tonight, he hoped.

The image of you couldn’t escape his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Dirty thoughts — it was wrong of him. You were the Grand Bishop’s daughter for Heaven’s sake.

When you entered your side of the confession box, your full intention was to follow the ordinary strict protocol. There was no reason for distraction.

“State your name for the records,” you requested, shuffling around as you worked on getting comfortable in your chair.

“Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin. It was a beautiful name. Your mind immediately went to pairing his last name with your first name, and then you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thought. 

“Din,” his name left your lips like the sweetest tasting honey. “Why are you here today? What would you like to confess?”

“I went to Corellia over the weekend,” he announced, his voice cold through the modulator. “The bad part— well, it’s all bad over there,” he corrected himself before continuing. “Got into some trouble gambling at Lady Proxima’s casino and a bunch of white worms surrounded me. So I killed them, all of them. I didn’t have to. But I did. I murdered them in cold blood.”

It was in that moment you learned how dangerous of a man The Mandalorian was. His beskar armour was just as cold as his heart.

“Wh— why did you kill them?” you asked timidly, almost afraid to know the answer.

“For the release. The adrenaline. The feeling of power. I can’t escape it. Have you ever killed?”

“N—no.”

Din scoffed incredulously. “Of course you haven’t.”

“What do you do after you kill?” you inquired, hoping to change the subject.

“Corellia has the best brothels… cheap too. I sought them out and look for a quick fuck.”

“Out of wedlock?” you pondered with a queasy frown.

Din laughed. “You’re asking if I’m married?”

He was right, it was a foolish question. 

“Do you enjoy your time at the brothel? Or do you regret it soon after?” you wondered.

Another laugh— and Maker, he made you feel terrible. Were you really that bad at this? 

“Yes, I enjoy myself. The girls there are pretty little things. Needy. Desperate. But— it’s not special, you know? It’s not… not exactly what I crave.”

“What do you crave?”

“To touch someone untouched. Pure. Holy…” the Mandalorian trailed off. “So, when I fuck the girls at the brothel, I tend to think of the Grand Bishop’s daughter.” He revealed, feeling his cock harden in the confines of his pants at the memory. You swallowed, a wave of heat immediately washing over you. You. He was thinking about you.

This was ridiculous. Was he messing with you? He had to have been messing with you. Sure, he’d seen you around before but neither of you had even held a conversation, prior to today. And he’d been thinking about you while he was sleeping with other women? You had to suck it up and remain professional, no matter how much it irked you. He was here to confess and you couldn’t let this become personal.

But it was so hard. Maker, why was it this hard? Was it because you’d thought about him too? Because you’d imagined his cock in place of your fingers, at night when everyone else is sleeping? You yearned to know more. You ached to know the details. Surely that was fair. He was speaking about you, after all.

You could already feel your panties begin to dampen with arousal. How could one man have such an effect on you? In your place of worship too. You wanted to punch him, kick him, take out all your anger on him. But most importantly, you wanted him. His touch. His hands on your body and his cock splitting you open. That’s what you wanted the most.

“What did— what did you think of?” You swallowed, anticipating the details. You were glad he couldn’t see how flustered and hot you were right now. It certainly wasn’t in the code for you to ask about details such as this but… surely one question would do no harm.

You could just about hear Din chuckle, from the other side of the wall, and it made your slick wet cunt clench around absolutely nothing. He was driving you feral. “I’d think about her ruby red lips and how they’d look wrapped around my cock. I’d imagine fucking her mouth, making her gag— wanting her to cry. I’d want to see the tears stream down her cheeks as I give her my all. And finally, I’d imagine her letting me cum down her throat.”

There was something about him talking about you, to you, in third person. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, listening. Like this information was not made for your ears.

Your panties were soaked at the thought. You couldn’t believe it. All this time, all these sessions of confession with your father, and it had only stirred him on more. He’d been going to confess, only to see you. 

“Tell me, princess. How does that make you feel?”

Shit. He could not be serious right now. You placed your palm flat against the wall and took a deep breath. “Mando, you’re here to confess. Not me.”

You tried to shut out his words, but your body ached for him. Ached to feel him… touch him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you — but it would be wrong. It would be so wrong.

Another chuckle. You hated when he did that. As if all of this was some kind of joke to him. Did he even know what he was doing to you? It was like torture. 

“See, the Grand Bishop’s daughter… oh wow. She’s a vision. She dotes crimson red lips and she walks around as if she owns the place, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. She’s bad, like the devil in disguise, and yet, I know her. She’s young and untouched. Her father will probably marry her off to some other minister in the outer-rim, ship her away for good. And she’ll be forced to deal with very mediocre sex for the rest of her life. Which is a shame, really, because she deserves better. You deserve better.”

“You have no idea who I am.” you spat out, feeling your cheeks burn with rage. How dare he make these assumptions about you and your family. This crude, older man with a tongue that could kill. How dare he. 

You wanted to be mad at him so bad. He couldn’t possibly get away with this. But he was going to. Because what exactly could you do? 

“She’ll never know how it feels to be stretched open by a real cock,” Din gritted out, dismissing your comment completely. “F—fuck.”

Din was palming himself through his pants, desperate for some kind of release. His sleuth, dirty words set a fire blazing in your core. You wanted it too. You wanted it so bad. You contemplated all the things you could do, all the actions and their consequences. You and the Mandalorian, both in the confession box. You couldn’t even see one another… the prolonged silence on your end prompted Din to get up and leave when he heard your honey velvet voice speak once more.

You had to say something.

“When the lights are out and everyone is asleep, I think about you,” you confessed, hating the way the croaky admission left your lips. You’d done it now. Din’s head snapped upwards to face the wall and oh how he wished he could see you right now. You were squirming around in your chair and when you heard the zipper of his pants become undone, you knew it was your queue to continue. “I touch myself. It’s hard to keep quiet… thinking about you. I imagine you touching me… running your gloved hands all over my body,” you bring your hand to your breast and give it a little squeeze. “I figure.. maybe you don’t take the gloves off. You praise me when you feel how wet I am, and I tell you that it’s all for you. I’m all yours. To use however you like. I want you to ruin me. Spoil me for any other man. Fuck me until I cant walk. Bite me, give me marks I have to hide during tomorrow’s mass.”

Din made a fist around his cock and began to pump as he listened to the dirty words that left your holy lips. His grunts and groans echoed throughout the box and went straight to your core. Oh how you wished you could see him right now. Peeling up the hem of your robe, you slid your fingers under the waistband of your panties and began to rub tight circles into your clit. 

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, although it came out more so like a statement. Like he already knew the answer. 

“Ye-yeah,” you whimpered, quickening your pace.

He was achingly stiff now, beads of milky white precum already dripping down his shaft.

“You want this?” He quizzed. “You want my cock right now? Think you deserve it?”

And in that moment, you made your decision.

Maybe this life that your father had given you, just wasn’t for you.

“Y-yes, oh God yes. I deserve it.”

A low and dark chuckle left Din’s lips. “You’ve been a child of God your whole life. But you want this, yes? You’ve been waiting for this?”

He was right. You had been waiting for this. 

“P-please Din, please. Wreck me. Ruin me.”

“In the chapel too?” he laughed, rising to his feet. “You really are desperate. C’mon then.”

In a fluster, you practically fell out of your side of the confession box.

The Mandalorian stalked towards you with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off as he got nearer and nearer. His eyes didn’t leave you once and although you couldn’t see his face, you could only imagine the predatory glint in his eye. Maker he was huge, and thick, and you wondered how you’d ever be able to take him.

You weren’t used to this— Maker, you’d never done anything like this before. There was no way your fingers would ever be able to compare to the size of the Mandalorian. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he grunted, releasing his cock and grabbing your throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. You nodded your head desperately and subconsciously licked your lower lip. “I must know. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Do you want me to claim you?”

Just like Hades claimed Persephone? You shut the absent thought out of your mind and agreed to his proposition.

“I do.”

If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? You had dreamt of this moment. How could you ever deny him? 

He pinned you against the altar and tapped at your thigh, gesturing for you to open your legs up. His eyes dropped straight to your dripping core and he had to hold back a guttural moan.

Din wasted no time and rubbed his cock along your slick wet folds. For a second you were afraid he’d knock over the many burning candles that you had lit earlier in the evening, before your little confession session had begun. But, to no surprise of your own, the Mandalorian had extremely good coordination. 

“Oh f-fuck, such a pretty little thing. So warm, bet— bet you feel so fucking good.” Din mumbled utterances of praise, his grip tightening around your wrists as he propped you up. 

Every now and again the bulbous tip of his cock rubbed over your clit and the sensation practically sent you into orbit. You were touch starved, having never experienced intimacy like this with anyone before. “Do you want me to fuck you now, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours?”

You whimpered a small ‘yes’ and Din chuckled darkly, tapping his cock against your cunt before sliding into you with one swift movement.

You let out a squeal, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he seated deep inside you. Underneath his helmet, his perfect lips were parted into an ‘O’ shape as your fluttering walls clenched around him and made him feel like he was home.

“Fuck— so tight, so fucking tight. Just like I’d imagined.” He murmured, feeling like he was already seeing stars. 

Din thrust upwards into you, the curve of his cock stretching you open and pulsating inside of you. His movements were rough and bruising, as his fingers dug into the soft flesh at your hips as he held onto you for support. Just like you’d requested, he was completely and utterly using you. 

“How’s that?” his gasp rolled into an achingly long groan as his balls slapped against your cunt, creating the most obscene wet sounds.

It was uncomfortable at first. He wasn’t soft or gentle by any means, but you’d anticipated that. After just a few thrusts, the intrusive pain turned into bolts of pleasure that coursed through your veins. It clouded your vision like white noise— like what the red berry wine you’d drink during Sunday mass would do to your mind. Din grabbed at the thin cloth that covered your chest, and ripped it off, exposing your bare breasts to him. A sheen of glistening sweat glazed your skin like the most beautiful honey dew. The Mandalorian was tall and broad, and as he towered over you, he coated you in his dark shadow.

His large hands palmed at your breasts and you moaned at the sudden, unexpected contact. He continued thrusting, fucking you mercilessly. With every movement, he hit that sweet spot inside of you, and you knew he’d been doing this for a long time. He was definitely experienced.

He dropped his hand for your chest and lowered it to your clit, expertly moving his two fingers across your bundle of nerves. That feeling, combined with his thick cock, was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” you chanted his name like it was a prayer— and he felt powerful.

The Mandalorian grinned wolfishly under his helmet as he increased his speed. You were seeing stars and it felt like your whole body was trapped under a spell. His spell.

“I ca- oh I can’t, I’m close, I’m close,” you cried as he continued to rock his hips into yours.

You hugged his body into yours, wishing the pleasure would never end. With every twitch of his cock he watched you intently. He watched the way your body reacted to him, revelling in the way your face screwed up in heated pleasure. Din adored the way your brow knitted together and your mouth parted as the most angelic noises omitted from your plush lips. 

“Have you ever felt so alive than you do right now, with me inside of you?” Din queried with a grunt.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head profusely. “Please don’t stop.”

Your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado and without warning, The Mandalorian split his seed deep inside of you, his salty cum roping your perfect walls as they gripped down around his cock. Now he had marked you for life.

Din returned to confession a week later when your father had returned from the Festival of Lights. There was no reason for you to see The Mandalorian anymore. 

“Forgive me, Grand Bishop, for I have sinned yet again.” Din announced, his voice clear as daylight after discarding his beskar helmet. He ran a gloved hand over his face.

“Another kill?” your father inquired, but from the other side of the wall, Din could only smirk.

“I’ve met a woman. A holy woman. And she has consumed my every thought. When I think about her I feel more inclined to sin, over and over again.” 

It was true. Your ruby red lips, high heels, thin robes… Din had become completely enraptured with you. 

Your father spent a moment contemplating the Mandalorian’s words, finding that he was speaking a lot differently than ever before. Not as ruthless or dangerous— but almost genuine.

“Would you give your body to this holy woman, if she requested you do so?” The Grand Bishop asked, not realising he was speaking about you, his own daughter.

“I already have,” Din confessed, subconsciously licking a stripe over his lower lip, at the memory of your taste. “And I would do it again.”

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[scandinavian-girl]

Hotchner’s Daughter pt. II

Summary: reader and Spencer’s relationship develops through study sessions, dates and overall good communication. Reader also talks to her father who is suspicious of who’s dating his daughter.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (Hotchner’s daughter)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: age gab between consenting adults (21-24/29-32), kissing, mentions of sex and sexual hints, talk about society’s standards for males.

Part 1  Part 3

It has been a few weeks since you and Spencer went on the coffee date. Even though neither of you wanted to admit it, it was the real first date between you two. You and Spencer had been texting and calling each other almost every day and from that you two’s relationship have been growing a lot.

Your semester had been rather hard, the homework just kept piling up and the assignments did it as well. You often found yourself working into the late hours of the night catching up on homework and assignments.

Today you and Spencer had agreed to meet up in your apartment so he could help you study. As you boiled some water to make some tea, you heard a knock on your door. You looked over at the clock you had hanging by the door.

“You’re 20 minutes too early Doctor.” you said to yourself as you went over to open the door.

When you opened the door you saw Spencer wearing some casual jeans with his lighter button up top and a tie.

“Always so dressed up.” You teased and let him inside of your smaller apartment.

“Dressed up?” He asked confusedly and stepped inside.

“You are always dressed up in a button up top, a tie with some pants and sometimes a cardigan.” You said smiling and closed the door.

“Anything wrong with that?” He asked and took off his shoes.

“No. Look, all I’m saying is, it’s never too late to try something new.” You chuckled and went into your small living where a lot of your textbooks and notebooks laid open.

When Spencer stepped into the living room he was both impressed and surprised how many books that were laid out.

“Even with an IQ of 161 I still have a rather hard time keeping things in order and figuring out the basic things in life.” You told Spencer as you sat down on your sofa.

“161? A person with that high of an IQ is considered a genius. Wait, the day we met you told me that you weren’t considered a genius and that your IQ is above average..” Spencer said as he sat down beside you.

“I lied. Often when I tell people that my IQ is 161 and that I am considered a genius, they don’t believe me.” you confessed and read through your notes.

“But why would you lie? I mean, your father knows. I believe your mother does as well and you are studying criminal justice to become an FBI agent. You also want to get a doctorate in both mathematics and engineering.” He said.

“Who told you that?”

“My profiling skills.” He joked. “I’m kidding, your dad told me. And I know you will pass these tests, exams and assignments.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Gosh he rambles a lot.

“But I don’t have an eidetic memory like you do so I still have to remember a lot of material.” You confessed and grabbed a book about the law.

Spencer chuckled at your comment. “But you do have a good memory so you should be able to learn a lot in no time.” He smiled.

As the hours went on, Spencer sat closer and closer to you as he read out loud some of the material while you wrote down some of the key points. It felt good to actually learn instead of just sitting and looking at pages upon pages with information.

“Spence?”

“Mhm?” he continued to look at a page to figure out a question for you.

“Thank    you for doing this.” you smiled and wrote a few last key notes for a chapter you just finished.

“No problem. I’ll do anything for you.” he said and wrote a question down for you.

“Really?” you said with a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him.

“Mhm.” he hummed and turned his attention to you.

Neither of you had noticed how close you had gotten to each other. You could feel his breath on your chin and you were sure he could feel yours as well. As you and Spencer stared into each other’s eyes, you felt a force to pull closer to him. But Spencer broke the silence and the close distance with one of his many questions.

“I thought it would be a good idea to ask questions after you’ve studied each chapter. Just to make sure you understand the material.” he said as both you and him looked at the paper with written questions on it.

“Sounds like a good plan. Will there be any rewards?” you asked.

“The smaller rewards will be kisses and the big reward will be a dream date with me.” he said with a chuckle.

“Are you serious? you giggled and looked at him again.

“Mhm.” he smiled and chuckled as he continued to look at his papers with his handwriting on it.

“Such a tease.” you whispered and began to read through your books.

“Heard that.” he said with a smile.

“Oh, I know.” you smiled again.

–

The day after your study date with Spencer, you were out with your father for lunch at a local diner near your apartment.

“So, how’s the studies going?” he asked you as he took a bite of his lunch.

“It’s going great. So far I’ve gotten straight A’s on my assignments and my teachers are really impressed by my knowledge and my skills on the different subjects that we go through.” you explained and took a bite of your food.

Your father gave you one for his rare large smiles. They often meant he was proud of either yours or Jack’s accomplishment in life.

“Lately I’ve noticed that large smile of happiness you often would bring whenever you and Haley were doing things together.” your father paused. “Who is it?” he then asked.

You almost choked in your food that you were chewing.

“What do you mean? I’m not seeing anyone.” you half lied. You weren’t dating anyone, but you did see Spencer rather often.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me.” your father said with a serious tone but it was paired with a soft smile on his face so you didn’t know how serious he was. You knew you shouldn’t lie but you couldn’t tell him you had been seeing Spencer for a few weeks.

“Okay, okay.” you giggled and took a quick sip of your iced water. “I’ve met a nice guy but we aren’t dating or anything.” you said with a convincing voice.

“Well, he does make you happier which I’m happy about.” he smiled and ate some more.

“Also Spencer has been helping me a lot with my studies.” you blurted out.

“He has?”

“Mhm. I feel like I’m learning more when he’s helping me.” you said with a smile.

“He also offered to help you back when you first met the team, when I explained your dreams and what you wanted to do.” he smiled.

You just smiled at him and took another bite of your food. Aaron noticed that the smile you just gave him looked a lot like the one you had walked around with but he didn’t want to assume or ask you if it was Spencer you were seeing.

—

Spencer had arrived at home in Quantico with the rest of the team from a case in Seattle. You and him had agreed on going on a date whenever he arrived back in D.C.

He let you choose where you two should go and you had chosen the State Fair of Virginia. You had asked Penelope one thing she knew Spencer never really had tried in his life and she came up with the idea of going to a fair.

Even though Spencer had grown up in Las Vegas he never really experienced the fun of going to a fair.

When you two met up in front of the gates, Spencer had the biggest smile on his face.

“I heard that you have never been to a fair before and I thought it would be a nice location for a date.” You smiled and grabbed his hand tightly.

“You would think that growing up in Vegas, I would have been to so many but in reality I used most of my free time reading and taking care of my mother.” He said and looked down at you, still having the biggest smile on his face.

“Such a geek.” You teased and giggled.

You and him walked into the big fair where families and single people enjoyed candy, Ferris wheels and many other smaller rides that were in the park. Spencer had decided to let you take the lead.

You had decided to try the biggest ferris wheel first. As you stood in line and waited for it to be your turn, Spencer grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze to get your attention.

“Hm?” You hummed and looked at him.

“I’ve never tried cotton candy before.”

“You haven’t?” You gasped as Spencer just gave you a simple nod.

“Never tried it. But I’ve heard it’s really sweet.”

“It’s the best thing in the whole world.” You said and stepped forward in the line.

Spencer chuckled at your enthusiasm. “You are adorable.”

When the two of you finally took a seat in the wheel, you scooted closer to Spencer to feel a little closer to him physically. Spencer smiled at your action and gave your temples a peck.

“I love this view.” You said quietly and leaned more in so your head now rested against his shoulder.

“And I love this view.” He said and looked down at you with eyes that told how much he admired you.

Later in the afternoon Spencer and you were playing some games. One of them where you got 3 balls to shoot at cans that were stacked.

“I’ve never won one of those big fluffy teddy bears.” You told him and threw one of the balls you’ve had. Missed.

“To your surprise, I’ve actually won plenty even though I throw like a nine year old girl.” He explained and threw one of his balls. Knocked them all down.

“You have enough for the prizes on the first and second shelf sir.” the young man, who stood behind the table, told Spencer.

“Oh I’m so gonna win this one.” You said and threw your second ball. Missed again.

“Are you sure about that?” He teased and threw his second ball. Hit them all again.

“You can now choose from the third shelf too, sir. if you knock the last pile down you’ll win the big stuffed teddy bear.” The young man informed spencer.

“Lucky you.” You smiled and threw your last ball. Hit only one can.

“Hey, you hit one.” Spencer smiled and threw his last ball. Hit them all.

“Congratulations, sir. You can choose any prize from any of the shelves.” The young man said.

Spencer looked at you who admired the large fluffy teddy bear on one of the shelves.

“I’ll take the large teddy bear up there.” Spencer said and pointed to the bear.

As the young man took down the bear Spencer looked over at you. He would never forget the expression, mostly due to his eidetic memory, but also the fact he had fallen so hard for you.

“Here you go.” The young man said and handed over the bear to Spencer.

“Thank you.” Spencer smiled. “Here. I want you to have this.” He handed the teddy bear to you.

You smiled widely and took the teddy into your arms that barely wrapped around the bear.

“Oh my god! It’s so fluffy!” You chuckled and hugged it close to your body.

“I’m glad you like it.” Spencer smiled and gave your temple another kiss.

You two continued to walk around the Fair. Spencer insisted on at least looking at everything in the fair. He wanted to experience everything. Once you two hit the food market in the fair, he insisted on getting the two of you the biggest cotton candy ball he could get.

“Here you go, sir.” The vendor said and handed over the cotton candy to him.

“Thank you so much.”

He then walked over to you with the widest smile ever. “It’s humongous!” Spencer said excitingly.

You giggled. “I told you it was the best thing ever.”

Spencer took a small piece out from the huge cotton ball and placed it in his mouth. “It melts!” He smiled even wider,

“Mhm. And the best thing is, people who is one dates often share one of these.” You teased since he hadn’t offered you any and he had begun to eat it by himself.

“Oh sorry. Want some?” Spencer offered.

“Yes please.” You smiled and took a small piece from the cotton candy.

—

Today was your 24th birthday. You had graduated about a year and a half earlier from your degree in criminal justice, had begun FBI training and were really close to becoming a special agent for them and closer to becoming a profiler too.

Over the past 2 and a half years, yours and Spencer’s relationship had been in a slow development since he was out on cases a lot and you had been working super hard on your degree and FBI training.

Last night you and Spencer had been up in the late hours of the night talking, giggling and had exchanged a few kisses here and there.

“You have kissed a famous person? Lucky!” You giggled as you took a sip of your red wine.

“I was actually just trying to protect her from a killer. Then we ended up in the pool and we made out.” Spencer chuckled with a shy smile.

“Was it your first real kiss? I mean we all have had those meaningless kisses when we were younger.” You smiled and scooted a little closer to him. Alcohol really did make you more confident and bold.

“I guess you could say that.” He smiled back and locked eye contact between you two.

“Isn’t it weird that we’ve known each other for a few years now, been on some dates but we have never really kissed?”

Spencer blushed at your words. “You do know I’m about 8 years older than you, right?”

You nodded with a hum. “But we both know we like each other. So why not explore our feelings further?”

“Bold of you to assume we haven’t explored our feelings.” He said and leaned closer to your body and face.

“Then explain to me, doctor, when did we explore?”

“Our multiple study sessions and right now.”

You chuckled as you felt his hand on your flustered warm cheek. 

“You’re head over heels for me.” Spencer smiled as your noses briefly touched each other.

“You and your profiling skills.” You giggled and closed your eyes.

Spencer didn’t say anything back but the second you felt his lips on yours, the butterflies inside of you multiplied. The kiss was subtle. No tongue but it had passion. About 2 and a half years of passion and love was in that kiss.

Your thoughts were interrupted but the sound of the shower turning off and not too long after you saw a tall, skinny person with just a towel around his waist and body dripping wet.

“Good morning.” Spencer smiled as he brushed his wet hair.

“Good morning. Slept well?” You asked and sat up on your bed.

Spencer nodded as an answer to your question. “By the way, last night was amazing.”

When he said those words, your eyes grew wide. You just realized that you were naked under the covers that barely covered your chest and that you possibly had sex with Spencer last night.

“Did we… did we have… sex?” You stuttered as you pulled the covers closer to you.

He chuckled and went over to get dressed by the end of your bed. You didn’t mind if you had or hadn’t, but the thought of you and your dad’s team member having sex, didn’t sit right with you.

“Not exactly. We were going to but when I came back from the kitchen, to get something quick to drink, you had fallen asleep. So no, we didn’t have sex.” He said and began to dress himself.

“But how was it amazing?” you asked.

“It was the fact we both were vulnerable. We talked a lot and kissed a lot.” he smiled at the drunken memories.

You smiled too. “You’re a great kisser.”

“Thank you. You aren’t bad yourself.” he smiled back at you.

“Spence?”

He looked up at you with wide curious eyes. “Yeah?” he asked as he turned more towards your covered body.

“Just wanna say thank you. Thank you for being here and being honest with me.” you gave him a soft smile.

“No problem.” he smiled back.

As Spencer was putting on some clothes you just sat on your bed looking at his figure getting dressed. Even though he didn’t have a six pack or had muscles like Derek did, Spencer looked amazing. 

“Isn’t it weird that society expects men to have muscles and have a six pack, yet girls and women pick those skinny, nerdy guys instead of those with a six pack?”

“If you really think about it, guys who look like Morgan, often act like shitheads and they don’t appreciate their partners when they actually have one.” he paused and sat down by your side on the edge of the bed.

“And skinny nerdy guys are the ones who appreciate their partners.” you said and looked away from his eyes.

“Exactly.”

You let out a huge sigh, indicating that you had something one your mind but didn’t really know how to tell Spencer yet, even though he probably could guess what it was.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked and placed his large hand on your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into the palm of his hand.

“Honest truth?” you asked with your eyes closed.

“That’s the only way I can help you.”

“I’m just… scared of how my dad’s going to react when he finds out we are dating.” you said barely above a whisper and looked up at him.

“Knowing your dad.. I’m sure he’ll support it.” he encouraged and leaned a little closer to your face.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then we will still be together.” he smiled softly.

You were so close to each other’s faces that you could feel his breath on your chin. Your noses touched. The same with your lips. He had pulled you closer and had connected your lips in a deep passionate kiss. Just like the one from last night.

Once Spencer had pushed you down on the bed so you laid on your back with most of your chest exposed, you could feel the need and lust you had for him. You hadn’t experienced this type of lust in a long time. And it felt nice that the lust you had for him was mutual.

Spencer pulled away from the kiss. “I haven’t officially asked you to be mine yet.”

“Not directly.” you giggled and ran your fingers through his damp hair.

“This might not be the most romantic thing but…” he paused and sat up, pulling you up as well while he grabbed a random shirt and put it over your head to get you dressed. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

The giggle that left your lips while he performed that action only grew louder that it turned into a laughter that sounded like music to Spencer’s ears.

“Thought you wouldn’t ask.” you smiled and leaned in to give him another deep kiss.