#what if he just doesn’t know it’s a husband

[celiime]

inspired by die with a smile by bruno and gaga! ^^

thinking about how satoru’s death contradicted his own words, carrying no meaning when he found himself dying beside his, you, his wife.

“when you die, you die alone.”

satoru didn’t know how he’d come to swallow these words the second he found himself dying—with his sweet wife beside him, holding his hand through it all—he always held a belief that death doesn’t scare him.

at least, not when his beloved was right next to him.

the blood gushing down his cuts, his body split in half, each half parted from the other, blood a blinding red color bubbling from his lips, making its way down the side of his face. even to a sorcerer as strong as gojo satoru, it would have still been a scare, to die like that…

however, he found that he couldn’t feel any of that. no fear was in his system, no shred of concern, no worry. it was all just solace. he felt no pain, no guilt, no regrets.

everything seemed to float away as soon as his wife’s lips settled upon his sweaty forehead—marred with blood and cuts—soft and warm, reminding him of that same kiss you gave him just this morning.

“satoru…” a soft mumble of yours, so fleeting, almost lost to the own blood spilling out of the cut—where you lost your arm.

his eyes blinked drowsily at you, barely mustering the strength to focus on your arm—or well…the empty socket of what it used to be. despite himself, his heart clenches painfully at the sight of you like this, so weak and battered up…couldn’t you die in a less painful way?

his injuries didn’t hurt, his cut up body didn’t hurt. what hurt the most was the sight of you, the sight of you all cut up and marred with blood that shouldn’t be on your precious features.

oh…his precious baby. still doting on him even as they’re both on death’s door.

you had always loved him as if it’s the last time you will ever get to show your feelings, always hugged him so tenderly, as if he’s close to withering away. Your kisses were always so gentle, slow and passionate, taking his breath away.

and in turn? he gave everything to you. satoru promised to himself that he would give you anything you asked for, just a simple bat of your eyelashes and he would destroy the world for you.

he loved you as if it’s the last time he’ll get to love you.

and he will continue to love you, even as death precedes. death won’t separate him from his beloved.

“look at…you…” his voice, barely croaking out, was as soft as ever, “an…angel—“ a cough left his throat, choking on the blood leaving his mouth—

his heart warmed as you shakily smoothed your bloody palms over his face, half lidded eyes carrying worry in them.

“are you…coming to—to take me to heaven? heh.” even in his near death state, his delirious state, losing blood by the gallons, he still found it in himself to crack a small comment—to comfort his beloved bride.

satoru never believed in the after-life, but ever since he married you…he found himself wishing that there is one, so that his time with you will be endless.

a shaky chuckle left your lips, thumb smoothing over his cheekbones, “no, idiot. i’m—“ you gasped, feeling your body throb with the pain, “going with you.”

“wherever you go, that’s where i’ll always follow you, toru.” you had uttered the day you confessed your fear of losing him.

you knew it was the end. you knew there was no more living after this. no more seeing your students in the morning and greeting them, no more stressing over missions, no more…fighting curses.

your teary eyes studied your husband’s features, bleary gaze fighting to focus—to memorize his features even after you were in your own grave.

did this mean no more seeing your husband too?

oh, you were going to be sick. just at the mere thought.

satoru—the ever so strong sorcerer that never wavered—found tears welling up in his own eyes, breath hitching at the absolutely precious look on your soft features.

god, how can you be this pretty even while all marred with injuries and blood? how could you be this stunning even through his delirious eyes?

he hoped he would get to see that face in heaven. if the gods pitied him enough, surely they would.

they would pity this absolutely smitten man, so pitiful and pathetic in the face of his undying love for his wife.

because, even as you both were dying, blood seeping through both of your injuries, staining the ground with red—you were holding his hand, sitting next to him as you waited for the blood loss to finally grasp your soul.

you spoke true to your words, you truly did follow him—even to death.

his precious wife. his beloved bride. his world.

for his last breaths, he used them to pray to the gods, to beg and plead for him to see you in the afterlife. to grant the wish of a smitten man.

dying was not so bad, death is peaceful and serene, especially when the last sight he saw before his fluttering eyes was the soft smile of his wife—oh so delicate and full of love, the faint feeling of her forehead on his own being the last thing he felt.

“thank—you for…loving...” his last words, not meant to be a goodbye—but just in case, right? what if the afterlife did not exist? “m..e..”

“i’ll continue loving you.” you smiled down at your husband, feeling his chest stutter with a final breath beneath your weight, before it completely stilled. Your misty eyes fluttered, pressing the tip of your nose to his, stealing one last act of intimacy before eventually fading into darkness.

even death can’t snuff down the love you have for eachother. Nothing, no force, no strong force can stop you from loving eachother.

“you were soooo sappy!” a giggle left your lips, pink and plump, no signs of blood on them, both arms intact—evident in the way you had your arms wrapped around one of your husband’s toned arms.

a whine left his lips, “you’re such a hater! so what? i cant confess my love to my cute little wife? especially when i thought i wouldn’t see her pretty face again?” he huffed, looking down at you with a pout. no blood on his one face, either.

you stilled—

your big baby. your smitten husband. oh how you loved him.

“true…” a small hum left your lips, relishing in the way his free hand seemed to rest on your head, “thank you for loving me…satoru. even in the afterlife.”

your husband was the one to pause this time, her eyes rounding with surprise, heart stuttering in his chest—feeling his breath completely leave his body at your earnest confession of love.

“oh, who’s the sappy one, now?”

oh, how meek did his wife sound? he wanted to hold you for as long as the afterlife was eternal.

“but…i’ll continue loving you. wherever you go, and no matter what happens. ‘kay?”

the gods granted the request and prayer of a smitten man.

can’t believe i finished writing this heh!! this is a little something something…i’ve been so fixated on gojo’s death lately, and him as a whole…and bruno and gaga’s song just sparked up so many ideas!! i hope u guys enjoy!! a bit of a continuation—? or alternate ending to this!

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

[hoshifighting]

omg omg knf i’m low-key feeling like a genius.

bb do you know that trend on tiktok where the bridesmaids give the husband naughty polaroids of the bride throughout the celebration I NEED HUSBAND!SVT REACTIONS TO THIS (u being the bride ofc)

also i’m saying need but if this is smth you don’t want to do feel free to ignore. ily mwah 💋

husband!seventeen reacting to your bridesmaids's giving them naughty polaroids of yours — tik tok trend

seungcheol’s in the middle of chatting with the groomsmen when he gets the envelope. he opens it, glancing down, and immediately freezes. his eyes widen as he realizes what he’s looking at. “you guys can’t just do this to me!” he tries to play it off, but he can’t help but sneak a peek at the photo again.

jeonghan's expression doesn’t change. he just stares at the photo, then looks up at your bridesmaids with a knowing smirk. he slips the picture into his jacket like it’s no big deal, but the second he catches your eye across the room, his smirk turns into a full-on grin. oh, he’s definitely going to tease you about this. “just wait, babe,” he mouths silently, making sure you know he’s got something planned.

joshua’s too polite to expect anything out of the ordinary, so when the envelope is handed to him, he opens it without a second thought. his eyes widen immediately, and his cheeks flush a deep red. “oh my god,” he whispers, quickly closing the envelope and tucking it away, glancing around nervously to see if anyone else saw it. he’s mortified, but there’s a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. he looks over at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

junhui the second his eyes land on the photo, his brows shoot up, and his mouth falls open. “oh… wow,” he mumbles, trying to hold back the grin creeping up his face. he looks around to make sure no one else can see, quickly stuffing the photo into his suit pocket, but his eyes keep darting back to u. he gives you a playful smirk across the room, biting his lip slightly.

hoshi opens the envelope, sees the photo, and immediately lets out a loud “oh my god!” his eyes go wide, and he’s laughing, blushing like crazy. “seriously? right now?” he says, grinning ear to ear, but he’s clearly flustered. he tries to play it cool, but u can see the blush creeping up his neck.

wonwoo doesn’t say a word—just slips the photo into his jacket, giving the bridesmaids a quiet nod. but there’s a glint in his eyes when he looks over at you. he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching you adjusting his glasses, hoping that the dream of them hide his red cheeks.

woozi doesn’t know what’s coming when he takes the envelope, and when he opens it, his reaction is instant. his eyes widen, and his face turns bright red. “what the—” he quickly snaps the photo shut. he’s completely flustered, but he’s also low-key impressed. tries to act like it didn’t faze him, but the blush won’t go away. “you’re lucky it’s our wedding day, or you’d be in serious trouble.”

minghao’s expression barely changes, but you can see the slight quirk of his eyebrow. he glances at the photo, then at your bridesmaids with a knowing smirk. “you girls really think you’re slick, hm?” he says quietly, folding the photo and tucking it into his suit jacket. later, he’ll pull you aside, his voice low and teasing. “you’ve got some nerve doing this at our wedding, but I’m not mad about it.”

mingyu’s curious from the start, wondering what kind of wedding surprise your bridesmaids could’ve cooked up. when he sees the photo, his jaw drops. “no way…” he mutters, blinking like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. he blushes instantly, but his eyes keep drifting back to the photo.

seokmin’s the type to open the envelope with the biggest smile, thinking it’s something cute. but when he sees the photo, his eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud, “holy shit!” before clamping his hand over his mouth. his face turns bright red, and he quickly stuffs the photo back in the envelope.

seungkwan’s expecting a cute, heartfelt note or maybe some kind of sweet wedding surprise, so when he opens the envelope and sees the photo, he gasps. “oh my god, no way,” he mutters under his breath, his face instantly flushing red. he glances around nervously, quickly hiding the photo, but his heart’s racing. “you really had to do this today of all days?”

vernon pauses. his eyes widen slightly, and he lets out a quiet, surprised laugh. “wow… okay,” he mutters, nodding to himself like he’s impressed. he slips the photo back into the envelope, tucking it into his pocket with a smirk.

chan’s face turns beet red as he sees the photo, and he almost drops it. “what the—?! are you serious?” he sputters, eyes wide in shock. then he quickly glances over at you, trying to gauge your reaction. he chuckles nervously, clearly flustered but loving the chaos.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

[luveline]

Hi!!

Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?

If you get round to this then thank you!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

“But you’re Spider-Man.” 

Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly. 

“I’m Spider-Man.” 

“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?” 

You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life? 

He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt. 

“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly. 

You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.” 

“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.” 

“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.” 

Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.” 

You just nibble your lip. 

“Is that something you worry about?” 

You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.” 

He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web. 

He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?” 

“Last night.” 

He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”

“Last Tuesday.” 

“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.” 

“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he says immediately. 

Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together. 

“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.” 

“You’d have to stop sometimes–”

He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.” 

“Just every other.” 

“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.

“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you. 

It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.” 

You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”

“How do you know?” 

“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.” 

“You will be.”

You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.” 

“I do.”

“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.” 

“Are you tired?” he asks. 

You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.” 

He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.” 

You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.” 

[hanbinics]

!husband matt hates when another man flirts with his wife.

matt’s waiting for you in the car while you flirt with another man.

he’s noticed it happening before at a few other drop-offs and pick-ups. it’s the same guy every time, his hair sort of messy in a way that he thinks is an attempt at trying to maintain a younger image and his smile far too wide to be considered just kind instead of a little creepy too. matt knows you’d never cheat on him, especially not with this idiot—but that doesn’t mean you won’t toy with him.

his blue eyes are glued to the way you toss your hair over one shoulder, exposing more of the soft skin of your neck as you laugh at whatever stupid fucking thing this stranger has just said to you. he’s sure it isn’t that humorous—and you confirm that when he catches you glancing over your shoulder towards your family car—but it’s enough to have matt gripping the handle of his door to push it open and climb out of his seat regardless.

usually, he doesn’t bother leaving the quiet of the vehicle if he doesn’t have to. he’s never really been all that social, so standing around and listening to other parents chat animatedly about their snot-nosed kids and what amazing things they’re doing at such a young age doesn’t really interest him; it’s probably why you’re so confused when you feel the brush of his long fingers wrapping around your hip.

only, you’re not that surprised. in fact, you can’t help the subtle twitch of a smirk on your mouth when you feel him behind you. you vaguely wonder what set him off—the other man before you eyeing your breasts in the little floral dress you’re wearing, or maybe the way he’s been shifting a little closer to you the longer your conversation goes on. either way, you feel a gentle thrill in the pit of your stomach when you feel your husband brush against your backside.

you don’t have to turn to know it’s him. you can feel it in the brazen way he grips either of your hips, can see it in the way jackson’s eyes widen the slightest bit at the sight of the man behind you. you have to suppress a smile, knowing exactly how your husband must look in the moment—smug, you’re sure. perhaps a little intimidating with those intense blue eyes you adore so much.

head cocked to the side, you raise a brow. “you were saying?” you all but hum in encouragement to the other man, waiting patiently for him to continue despite the silent interruption behind you, fingers digging so snugly into your plush hips.

jackson looks from matt to you, almost like he can’t believe you’re putting him on the spot here. but you feign innocence, furrowing your brow gently as if to say we were only talking about our children, right? it’s the guise he’d approached you under, so backing off now would only allude to ulterior motives, and he isn’t about to do that with the fucking doberman behind you.

an uncomfortable laugh bubbles up from his throat, but it’s cut short when neither of you reciprocate. “no, i was just, ah—” he pauses, an awkward smile on his face as he searches for a safety net. finally, he comes up with one. “i was just saying that it might be nice for our daughters to have a play date some time.”

you can’t help but smile in spite of yourself, a little impressed with his commitment to the act. matt, on the other hand, cocks one eyebrow just as you part your lips to insist that it could be a nice idea.

“which kid is yours?” he asks from behind you, watching as jackon’s face settles into something a little more relieved at your husband’s sudden interest, like maybe he’s gotten off the hook.

“just over there.” the other man points, all eyes shifting to the opening doors of the building your daughter attends dance classes at. “that’s my little willow.” he smiles proudly as you all watch the little girls begin to file out with their instructor, hearing sweet giggles and excited exclaims for their mommies and daddies fill the air.

“huh,” matt huffs shortly, watching as you turn your head slightly to catch his eye, “was she not the one with the biting problem?”

jackson’s eyes widen slightly at the blatant call-out, his face reddening with anger or maybe embarrassment—you aren’t entirely sure. either way, your husband simply hums low in his throat when everybody seems to be at a loss for words, taking that as his response. he doesn’t wait any longer, instead delivering one last firm squeeze to your hip in a silent end to the conversation just as your daughter is barreling towards the both of you, arms spread wide and an excited grin on her face at the sight of her parents.

“there’s daddy’s girl,” matt greets your little one, bending down low to the ground so that he can scoop the excited little bundle into his arms, resting her on his hip as you listen to him ask her about her day while heading back to the car.

you’re thoroughly amused by his ending to the situation. you listen to the brunette hold an animated conversation with your daughter during the drive home, blue eyes bright and engaged with the little life in the backseat, but you know he hasn’t let you off the hook. it’s clear in the way he glances over at you every so often, gaze dropping from your pretty features to the bare skin of your thighs. thinking about the fact that another man had probably checked out all the same things makes a muscle in his jaw twitch.

when you get home, he still doesn’t immediately say anything to you. as soon as your little family is bursting through the front door, you’re promising your daughter an after-school snack and listening to matt insist that she show him a backpack that doesn’t include homework before she’s allowed to go play. the fact that he still hasn’t said anything about what happened allows this anxious feeling to creep into your body, but it’s not entirely unpleasant—it’s almost thrilling.

still, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of matt’s lips on your neck, hands braced on either side of the kitchen counter you’re currently caged in against, the hand that had been pouring a glass of tea suddenly shaking slightly with your new position. almost immediately, you tilt your head to the side, allowing him more access to the skin there.

“knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer,” you quip, a small smirk on your lips as you set the teapot down, your drink long forgotten.

your husband nips at your skin spitefully. “how could i? seems like my wife needs a reminder about who she belongs to after letting that guy eye-fuck you back there.” his mouth is growing greedier in its pursuit of your skin, and you’re pretty sure you can feel a purple bruise beginning to bloom across the area he’d just nipped at.

you pout at his accusation. “i wouldn’t say i let him,” you argue, but your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his teeth graze your skin again, one hand abandoning the granite countertop to roam your thighs instead.

you decide to push your luck. “besides, looking never hurt anyone...”

matt snarls against you, nose brushing along your neck as he uses his free hand to slide up your torso until he reaches the soft flesh of your chest, squeezing your left breast in his large hand and eliciting a quiet gasp from your mouth.

“yeah?” he breathes into your hair, the hand that’s been brushing along your inner thighs suddenly moving higher, taking the fabric of your dress along with it. “what was his name again? jackson?” he asks tauntingly, daring you to confirm his question.

you want to say something snarky in return, maybe tease him and say you don’t remember, but any coherent thoughts leave your brain the minute that your husband gathers the fabric of your panties in his hand, creating a thinner band of it nestled between your lips before he’s pushing it to the side entirely, his middle finger teasing your slit.

“tell me, sweetheart,” matt hums into your ear, his crotch pressed into your ass as he toys with your slick cunt, “do you think about jackson’s fingers in your pussy?”

as if to accentuate his question, he dips two wet fingers into your awaiting hole, eagerly swallowing the digits as your mouth falls open at the sudden pleasure, stomach jumping into your throat. he doesn’t even allow you the chance to respond, adding to the stimulation by teasing your puffy nipple with his other hand after pulling your dress down enough to expose your cleavage.

suddenly matt pulls his fingers from you, delivering a wet slap to your sensitive pussy that has you yelping in surprise. “answer me.”

“no—no, i don’t, baby,” you ramble, shaking your head fervently. “only think about you inside me, only you.” you can’t help the way you press your ass back against him, trying to find some friction there and offer a little bit to the growing bulge you can feel in his pants, but matt is quick to release your chest in favor of delivering a quick slap to your ass in retaliation.

“don’t get fuckin’ greedy,” he reprimands you, although he does ease two fingers back into you, groaning softly at the way you suck him in almost immediately.

you moan at the feeling of him inside you once again, your knees nearly buckling at the way he begins to fuck you with his fingers. “matt,” you gasp, your tone bordering on pleading now, “need your cock, baby, not just your fingers.”

but the brunette simply snorts despite the labored breaths he’s panting near your ear. “yeah? think you deserve it, huh?” he sneers at you, hips grinding into your ass he uses you to ease a bit of the tension there. “well i think you should probably be a little more apologetic for bein’ a fuckin’ attention-seeking brat if you want my dick, sweetheart.”

your instinct is to frown at his name-calling, but it’d simply be for show. you love the cruel edge to his voice, and he knows it. on top of it, you can’t form the correct words when you feel his fingers plowing your greedy cunt, sucking him in so eagerly as he angles his wrist so that his calloused palm is pressing into your clit, grinding into the swollen nub. the combination of the two is so overwhelming that you can feel this intense, tight knot growing in your abdomen, like you might just burst at the seams, and you’re quick to let him know.

“oh—fuck, baby please slow down,” you cry out as quietly as you can to him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “’m gonna come, matt, please.” but as soon as you plead your case, everything stops.

your knees seem to give out as soon as matt pulls his fingers from your pussy with an embarrassingly wet sound effect, your body all but collapsing against the counter to support your trembling figure. your breathing is labored as you try to come to terms with what happened, as you try to collect yourself, only then realizing the fact that matt has just fucking edged you.

you feel the brunette’s lips brush over the bare skin of your shoulder just before he’s pulling away from you, your eyes wide with bewilderment as you watch him retreat. you can hear your daughter calling for her daddy from her bedroom, insisting that he come play with her, and you can only watch as your husband sticks two long fingers in his mouth—the same fingers that had just been inside you—and sucks them clean of your arousal like he’s just finished the last of his favorite fucking dessert.

“’m comin’, baby,” matt calls out to your daughter, already beginning to walk out of the kitchen.

the walls of your pussy are still fluttering now that there’s a void where his fingers just were, and you feel like you’re damn near on the brink of tears from your orgasm denial. but as you watch him disappear around the corner, your heart flips in your chest at his next words, your selfish cunt throbbing gently.

“hey princess, what do you think about going to visit grandma and grandpa tonight?”

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @blahbel668

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/rookthornesartistry

[lulunothulu]

Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙

Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗

“Don’t worry”

Tyler Owens x Reader

“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.

He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.

When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.

“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.

He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.

‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.

Tyler’s heart stops.

Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.

He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.

He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.

When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.

“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.

He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”

He checks your pulse.

Good, steady but kind of weak.

Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.

Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.

The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.

“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.

He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.

“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.

“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.

———

At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.

How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?

He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.

Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.

“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.

“When?” He’d asked.

“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”

The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.

Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.

“Tyler?”

“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”

“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.

“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.

“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.

“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”

Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”

“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”

“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”

“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”

“10:30 PM,” he tells you.

“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.

Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”

He turns around. “Yes baby?”

“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Several Sentence Sunday

had idea for the scene in my Tommy feels fic so here it is (it's 2017 so Tommy only recently came out)

“You have a problem with us, young man?” the man asks him with a close to angry look in his eyes.

“I-I,” Tommy doesn’t know what to answer. 

Yes, I have a problem with how freely you love each other because even after I came out and started dating openly over the last 6 months I still feel like a fraud. And  like I don’t deserve it. Like I don’t deserve to be loved and love someone - that’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t.

“Mitchell, please, let’s get back to our table. I’m sure the young man was just sad that his date never showed up,” the other man puts his hand on his - Tommy suspects judging by similar rings - husband’s shoulder. 

“He actually showed up. But it definitely was our first and last date,” Tommy says with a sad smile. “I-I just,” he exhales, and looks at similar kind looks on men’s faces now. “I admired, but also was jealous of the two of you. I was in the closet for years and only really started dating not long ago and it was a disaster. I want to find someone to be like the two of you.” 

“Oh, son,” Mitchell says with a smile and gentle pat on his shoulder, “trust me, you don’t find love like that, you make it. Am I right Thomas?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Thomas smiles at him and then at Tommy, “I’m sure you will find someone you will love so much and really feel like you can make life with. Eventually. Don’t rush the universe, young man. It knows when to give it to you.”

“Yes. Concentrate on loving and accept yourself fully for now, son. Then, when you’re ready, that good man will be here and you two will build something special,” with last pat on his shoulder Mitchell leads Thomas back to their table and Tommy with the last look at their happiness, gets up and out of restaurant.

Love myself first? Ok, let’s try. 

Tommy finds the number of his old therapist.  

np tagging @bewilderedbuckley @wikiangela @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @devirnis @bi-buckrights @typicalopposite @perfectlysunny02 @queerbuck @queerdiaz @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @racerchix21 @theotherbuckley @theweewooshow @pirrusstuff @powersuitup @aringofsalt @saybiwithme @diazheartsbuckley @honestlyeddie-im-bi @half-oz-eddie @kinardsevan @kinrdevan @lavenderleahy @leashybebes @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @marvelousbuckley @cliophilyra @cal-daisies-and-briars and anyone who wants to

[nathaslosthershit]

Emotional Times (OP81)

Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!

It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.

There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 

The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 

“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-

Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 

Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.

“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.

“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”

He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 

The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.

“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.

With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 

She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.

Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.

She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 

She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 

A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.

“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.

If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.

“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.

“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 

“Yeah well i-”

“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 

And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 

Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”

“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:

Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 

Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 

Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.

Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days

Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?

Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.

Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.

Nicole: 😉

Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 

“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.

“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 

“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.

After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.

“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.

The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 

“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.

“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.

“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”

“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.

“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.

Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.

“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.

“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.

Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.

“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  

Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 

[muggy-b]

With people begging to see Pacifica, I thought I’d throw you all a little something.

I’ve also realized that none of you are my writing partner in this. So I need to share with you all my fun little headcanons and the things I’ve rewritten when it comes to this au.

So to start off, Pacifica is a widow. Her husband died when their son was at a young age and so she’s been raising him alone. However her husband’s death also lead to her freedom! Pacifica has a gross amount of money in her bank account so she ended up being the “maddest member of the Northwest clan” through funding all sorts of things in Gravity falls. While still being able to retain her wealth!!

One of the most notable projects she’s funded was for a local scientist, Mabel Pines. Something about studying the local wildlife? Pacifica couldn’t bother herself to remember. Just that she wrote a fat paycheck so Mabel could build some underground bunker to conduct research with her lab assistant.

Pacifica used to be in close contact with Dr. Pines and C, but one day the two just suddenly stopped responding to her. Pacifica doesn’t know the reason and refrained herself from visiting after being ghosted like that. She had a six year old son to worry about.. and a package that arrived on her doorstep.

I’ll go more into the organ freezer that is Bill later, but that’s exactly what she found on her doorstep. A puppet of a boy whose body wasn’t alive, but his mind was filled with fantasy. She recognized the labeling on his body to be a work of Pines and C, so obviously they had entrusted her with this machinery.

Trivia time!!

The northwest manner curse is still placed on the house. Mainly because Pacifica doenst let anyone go in or out of the mansion.

She has a pet chicken.

Definitely more herself in this AU. Still knows how to be prissy and perfect, but a lot more extroverted and nicer to the townsfolk.

Still believes her family founded the town.

She’s an old ass lady but no one can get her exact age out of her. She changes the answer each time.

Sort of wants to visit Mabel’s home, but apparently he’s transitioned and changed his name to Mae? Obviously he wants to start over and that doesn’t include her. Just a bad investment.

Classist without realizing it.

Enjoys video games but only plays stuff from the 80s-90s. She can’t understand the newer consoles.

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[aziraphales-library]

Any recommendations of fics where Crowley and Aziraphale are roommates/neighbours?

Here are some housemates and neighbours fics that I've read and loved...

Safe In Your Arms by AppleSeeds (T)

After moving out of his flat following a fire, Aziraphale moves in with Crowley, who turns out to be very lovely and seems determined to do anything he can to comfort Aziraphale when he finds out about the nightmares he's been having.

What Aziraphale Wants by mozbee (G)

“You could shower at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale says. He’s a step out of the lift before he realizes what he said. He quickly laughs, turning to face Crowley, to dismiss it as fast as it had come out, and sees he’s being stared at. “You mean that?” Crowley asks, an arm out to keep the lift doors from closing. Aziraphale fights off the threatening blush. It won’t do to have Crowley know he’s practically foaming at the mouth to have him spend more time with him. Because Crowley is his friend, his confidante. He can tell him anything. Except Crowley is also devastatingly handsome. --- Aziraphale is just being neighbourly, inviting Crowley over to use his shower while his bathroom is being remodelled. It has nothing to do with the pounding lust that fills him when he thinks of Crowley nude in his home. He's just being nice. Now if these pesky feelings would leave him alone...

Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings) by out_there (E)

The first time Crowley meets his downstairs neighbour, Aziraphale is breaking into his flat. He's not what Crowley imagined in a burglar -- he's fussy, old-fashioned, and surprisingly adorable. Crowley is intrigued, Aziraphale is ready to share a good wine... and possibly more.

District of (un-)Certainty by jamgrl (M)

Aziraphale is a PhD student who needs a roommate so he can continue to afford his house in the U.S. capital of Washington D.C. Luckily, the family he tutors for on the side just happened to find him one! He doesn’t think he will like him much since he is in the states to work on Mr. Dowling’s senate campaign, so he’s probably a terrible person (even if he is good looking). Crowley is pretty independent and doesn’t really have a lot of what you would call “friends”. But he doesn’t mind his new roommate. He would much rather hang out with him than his coworkers, anyways. His roommate’s best friends Anathema and Newt aren’t too bad, either. It’s nice to have some friends. Maybe he likes it in D.C. --- They are millenials! But still British and still old fashioned- just a little twist on our favorite husbands.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Won't You be My Neighbor? by ProblematicPitch, Spiro (T)

When Mr. A. Z. Fell moves to the quiet English village of Tadfield, he expects nosy neighbors and inquiries into his eccentric, solitary life. What he doesn't anticipate is Anthony J. Crowley, the surly nuisance / next-door-neighbor, who might very well need a friend as much as he does.

And I'll just drop a quick link to the popular and oft-recommended Or Be Nice, because I know someone will mention it if I don't.

- Mod D

[buddierecs]

friends with benefits buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

if you could hold me now, you can leave me later by: justhockey “i think we both know you’re the pretty one here, buckley.” eddie says it and his voice doesn’t catch, or tremble, or break. he even manages to make it sound like a joke, a taunt, instead of a very painful truth: that buck is everything and eddie is just, well, eddie. “here.” buck puts eddie’s plate down in front of him and hands him a knife and fork. “eat. you can’t spew bullshit if your mouth is full.” word count: 4.5k important tags: idiots in love, miscommunication, getting together, love confessions, fluff, soft!buddie lying to ourselves, acting like we're something else by: himbobuckley "after a one-night stand that buck can't get out of his head, things turn awkward when the guy- eddie diaz- turns out to be the new probationary firefighter at buck's station. for eddie, the first guy he ever hooked up with is suddenly in every aspect of his life and he doesn't know what exactly to do with it. cue the pining, not-so-clandestine hookups, and lots and lots of confusion and insecurity." word count: 30k important tags: different first meeting au, season 1 au one night stand, mutual pining, idiots in love, emotional hurt/comfort, jealous!eddie diaz home is a place where i yearn to belong by: buckleydefender "the friends with benefits to lovers (to almost fiancés) sickfic nobody asked for but you got anyway" word count: 4.9k important tags: friends to lovers, getting together, sick fic, pet names didn't quite think it through by: serenelystange "in which buck insists the friends can have benefits other than sex, and everyone but eddie is just so done with him" word count: 3.6k important tags: idiots in love, feelings realisation, fluff, getting together, first kiss friends to husbands to lovers by: onyxthroughtheages "buck and eddie get engaged, have a wedding, buy a home, and only then do they get together." word count: 4.1k important tags: friends to husbands to lovers, fluff, soft!buddie, idiots to lovers glue by: prosperdemeter "a month away from graduating the lafd academy, evan buckley gets introduced to new recruit eddie diaz and things certainly change for both of them after that." word count: 85k important tags: different first meeting au, season 1 au, slow burn, hurt/comfort

[jujutsukaisenwriting]

JJK Characters Realizing They Start Falling for You [Pt.2]

Bonus: manga character in the end!

Choso:

Being one of the Death Paintings, he never experienced such feelings before. At first, he tries identifying it but fails. It’s more than friendship and more than simple protectiveness. After some time, he goes to Yuji and reluctantly asks for advice.

Grumpy and aloof by nature, Choso starts with tiny steps: sitting a bit closer to you than usually, talking to you more often or even doing small acts of service like holding the door for you.

He actually has lots of passion, emotions and affection inside and with you around, he feels more in touch with these emotions than ever.

Is very sweet and once opening up, will blow you away with his wit and humor.

Will surely take some time to mentally prepare for asking you out since a) he doesn't believe he has a chance and b) has super low self esteem in terms of being a romantic partner.

Takes you to a quiet place where he can gather his thoughts. Is surprisingly straightforward though and just admits he likes you and would like to get to know you more.

INSTANT SMILE OF RELIEF

Cups your face and stares in your eyes with a huge goofy smile, not quite comprehending what just happened.

Yuta:

Since he had a history with Rika, at first he brushes off any thoughts of potential love interests.

However, you make it hard for him not to pay attention to the way you laugh, carry yourself, or spar.

Opens up with you more, replacing his shy facade with his true, ingenious and passionate self.

He finds it fascinating how easy it is to talk to you and just be around you, with no need to pretend or stay alert.

Is actually a very protective type and it will show almost instantly. He will always make sure you are safe and comfortable but he won't be obtrusive at all.

One day just asks you to join him and spend some time in an amusement park. While walking, will casually drop the "I quite like you" line and will smile softly, talking your hand.

From the start, he never doubted in your answer and now smiles in quiet confidence.

Toji:

Needless to say, the man is super reserved so at first, he will just act as his usual self: keeping the distance and occasionally glancing at your side with a frown.

Is annoyed at himself because he never thought he’d be interested in another person again. Apparently, you found your way under his skin.

Toji knows how to be a husband but has forgotten how to be a boyfriend so he’ll have hard time figuring out where to start.

Are flowers okay? What do people even do these days? Should he take you out somewhere?

His rage surprisingly dissolves in your presence and he cherishes this feeling though never admits it out loud.

Will take you to a secluded and quiet restaurant and will simply state that yes, he’d love to… try this whole…relationship thing with you.

Geto:

Usually has no trouble asking someone out or simply flirting but finds himself at loss of words in your presence.

It’s weird and he both likes it and feels a bit embarrassed.

Is a type to observe you from the distance and make mental notes on your behavior and habits. He doesn’t stalk though: he is just hesitant to approach you yet.

Is amused by the way you laugh or fix your hair and smiles softly and admires you quietly

Loves to touch you, be it holding your hand occasionally or brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Will probably ask you out while you two share a quiet and cozy evening. Something like stargazing together sounds like a perfect start for your blooming relationship.

“I’m not used to needing someone as much as I need you, but I’ll be honored if you decide to give it a try and become my partner”

Higuruma:

Not really a romance type of guy and has never been pursuing a relationship, prioritising work.

Is caught off guard by the sight of you. His eyes open widely and his whole expression changes as if the veil, that’s been hiding his features, was finally lifted.

Tries to rationalise his feelings and emotions. Like, he should control them, right? Logic should be above it all?

In your presence, acts in a rather sharp manner, trying to hide nervousness.

Old-school romance is his style. One day, he will just show up with a huge bouquet of flowers, assembled specifically to your liking.

Will be brutally honest like “I don’t know why I’m feeling this way but I’d rather spend evening with you than by myself”

Will actually open up and as it turns out, has a wonderful sense of humor and lots of witty stories that he will gladly share.

Note though that he is a perfect listener. This man is genuinely interested in your day, your mood and your thoughts.

He wants to become part of your life and is willing to work on any complexities that might arise.

[strang3lov3]

Hot Date

Roman reminds you of who you belong to after your date.

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, stepcest, manipulation, toxicity, usual roman sexism, usual dubcon, jealousy, roman just has a lot of feelings, crossing some weird familial/romantic lines here, unsafe piv, lack of foreplay, rough sex, multiple cream pies, panties shoved down readers throat, inappropriate use of a vibrating phone. If the succession writers can go there then so can I. Fic Help - @beefrobeefcal @endlessthxxghts thank you for your eyeballs!! A/N - heddo! Fic inspired by this ask from @thesummerpetrichor 💜 Summer, thank you for this because this is my favorite part of stepdaddy so far! I hope this is feral enough for you 😌 love you love you!

Also, because all of you who read my Roman fics seem to be very on the same page as me, putting it out there that I’m open to writing more of your ideas/thots 🥰 make ‘em icky my friends

Important!! If anyone wants to join a succession thirst/discussion server, please lmk 💜 you can comment or message me or send an ask, I just wanna talk about this silly show and everyone with you all 💜🩵

Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist

You’re in the spacious walk-in closet of your mother and Roman’s bedroom, pulling a pretty, eggplant-colored dress over your body. “Fix your boobs,” your mom says from behind you, tugging on the zipper at your lower back. The small piece of metal and her sharp nails scratch your back.

“Ow, Mom,” you complain, reaching under the fabric of your dress to adjust the way your breasts sit. 

“I know, I know. Zipper’s stuck,” she mumbles. “Here-” Your mom opens the closet door and calls out her husband’s name. “Roman!” she yells, “Can you come help us?”

Your stomach drops. You’ve avoided him all day, purposely. Your mom looks through her shelves of shoes for a pair of heels to match your dress while you toy with the fabric of your dress anxiously. Roman makes his way upstairs, then joins the two of you in the closet. You timidly look at him through the long mirror in front of you. 

“Her zipper’s stuck. She needs a big, strong man to zip her up,” your mom teases.

“Ah, does she now?” Roman doesn’t break eye contact with you in the mirror, just raises an eyebrow. Where are you off to? “Good thing I’m built like a brick shithouse, right?” Roman’s eyes fall upon your bare back as he walks toward you, your skin tingling as he puts one hand on your hip and uses the other to grab hold of the zipper. “Let’s see here,” he murmurs, inspecting the zipper. “Looks like it’s stuck on the dress.” 

 Your mom’s phone begins to ring as Roman works on freeing the small bit of fabric from the zipper. She excuses herself to answer the call, her interior designer Erica is on the other end. Once again leaving you alone with Roman. 

“Hot date?” he asks, waiting for the sound of your mother’s footsteps to disappear. He hopes that’s not the case. Christ, please let it be a girls’ night or something. 

“Mhm.”

“What’s that? I didn’t, uh…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Ouch. Roman masks the pain with what barely passes as a smile and a single nod. “That’s new. Didn’t know you were…” he trails off. 

You shrug. Roman struggles with your zipper a bit before pulling it up slowly, smoothing out the fabric with his hand. He watches you pull yourself together the rest of the way, putting two diamond studs from your mom’s jewelry box in your ears. You go for a necklace next, but struggle to clasp it around your neck with your freshly manicured nails. “Fuck,” you curse under your breath.

 “Let me.” Roman takes the chain between his fingers, brushing over your neck and causing you to shiver. “Relax. I’m not doing anything. Not here.” He opens the claw clasp with his thumb nail and loops it through the chain, then lets the necklace fall. You adjust the pendant so it lays flat against your chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

 Roman’s hands rest on your shoulders, he watches you fix your hair and catches a whiff of your perfume, something sweet and hypnotic that has his balls tightening and his stomach fluttering. “You, uh-” Roman’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. He’s being so soft, so gentle it has you thrown off. “Fuck. You look really beau-”

“Erica’s gonna be here Tuesday at three to give me an estimate on my office,” your mom interrupts from the bedroom. Roman nearly trips as he backs away from you, your mom walks into the closet just seconds later. You watch in the mirror how he scratches the back of his neck and shakes his head awkwardly, and how his expression changes from sheepish to defensive - brows knit together, a scowl on his lips. He’s angry, embarrassed with himself. Roman leaves and goes back downstairs. 

As your mom picks out a pair of kitten heels for you to wear along with a beaded evening purse to match, your phone lights up with a text from your date. Here. You met him on Hinge a couple of weeks ago and hit it off as well as any two internet strangers could. He seemed funny and charming and genuine, and you found him attractive. He was just a few years older than you and had dark, curly hair. Thick eyebrows, deep brown eyes and a sweet smile. You texted him, played iMessage games together, even had phone sex. You’ve been looking forward to this date. 

You slide on your mom’s heels and slide the purse over your shoulder, then leave the closet. You stop at your room and stuff your purse with a condom and a lip gloss, then go downstairs. You find Roman waiting by the door, peering out of the small, decorative window at your date in his car, holding your wool coat in his arms. “Think you’ll both fit in the backseat of that Honda?” 

His softness is gone. Somewhere between the closet and in front of the door, Roman built up his walls again. So you do too. “Quit stalking him, you fucking creep,” you spit. You open the front door and pull it open, trying to hit Roman with it in the process. He stops it with his hand, then follows you onto the porch.

“Nuh-uh, get back here.” He grabs you by the wrist before you can pace down the porch steps. “Jacket,” he says, dropping your wrist so he can hold open your warm, wool coat.  “You’re gonna catch a cold.” 

Reluctantly, you slide your arms through the sleeves and Roman turns you around to button it and straighten out the lapels. “You’re not gonna fuck him, right, kiddo?” he murmurs softly, holding on tightly to your coat.

“Let me go, Roman,” you seethe. He’s so handsome tonight, scruff grown out a little and his hair messy. His eyes look so dark, so predatory - a stark change from the sad, warm way they looked before.

“Because that would be unbecoming of a young lady.”

You twist and wriggle a little, but Roman only grips you tighter. “I’m serious. Roman–”

The car’s window rolls down, and Roman waves to the handsome, younger man with a fake smile plastered on his face. “Dude’s not even gonna meet the father, huh? He’s gonna miss out on my shotgun speech. You know, the whole ‘whatever you do to her, I’ll do to you’ thing.” 

“You couldn’t handle a shotgun. Goodnight, Roman.” 

“Ouch. Good one. Night, sweetheart.”  Roman hugs you then, and presses a kiss against your cheek, pinching your ass as he does. “You be good.” 

Roman watches you pace quickly down the steps and into the car. Fucking asshole doesn’t open the door for you? If you can brave the cold drizzle outside, so can he. Prick. Whatever. Roman watches the red glow of the car’s brake lights illuminate the wet asphalt below, thin white vapor pouring from the exhaust. And then you’re gone. 

Roman goes back inside, toeing off his shoes and kicking them haphazardly toward the shelf in the walkway as he huffs in irritation. He flops on the living room couch and pulls out his phone from his front pocket, opening DoorDash. He pulls up your favorite Indian restaurant and orders the same entree you always get, plus something for himself. It is Friday, after all.

Your mom comes down the steps and joins Roman in the living room. “I’m going out with Erica,” she says, her head tilted as she puts in an earring. “Bye.” 

“Yeah, alright. See ya.”  

Today’s probably the most Roman’s spoken to your mother in about a week. Not that it bothers either of them, though. He watches her leave out the front door the same as you did just moments before, and can’t find it in himself to feel anything for her. No guilt, no remorse for cheating on her with you, her daughter. He likes to dangle his marriage to her over your head to torment you but he knows that honestly, she probably wouldn’t care that he’s fucking someone else, fucking you. And that makes him a little sad for you; do you realize this too? She’s so hollow inside. No real substance there. You deserve a better parent than that. 

Your mom leaves and Roman’s left with the house to himself and fuck all to do on this Friday evening. It used to be that on Fridays, you and Roman would order takeout and watch movies together, or you’d play games on the Nintendo switch until your mom, who was always out drinking, would come home. Roman always felt that it was a nice routine, but it’s seemingly over now. And for what? Why are you so fucking pissed at him all the time? You wanted him, and he gave himself to you. He was the one to pursue you and he knows that technically, he was the one to cross the line, not you. But is sex between two adults really so terrible? He wishes you would get the fuck over it already.

 Jesus, he’s hard thinking about the times he’s made you come for him. Roman reaches for his growing erection and groans, rocking his hips into his palm. He thinks of your arousal on his tongue, and how thankful he was that he hadn’t shaved in a while. He waited as long as he could before showering just so he could smell you in his scruff, and be reminded of the taste of your pleasure. 

How you writhed on top of him, underneath him, how he split you open. Roman thinks of those perfect, creamy rings you left on his cock, the way your cunt pulsed around him. Eyes rolled back into your skull, mouth open, his name falling from your lips repeatedly, beautifully. Roman, Roman, Roman.

A knock at the door and Roman snaps out of it. He picks up the tightly-tied bag from the doorstep and places the it on the table, the same table he fucked you on, and tears it open. Roman takes your order and sets it in the fridge, then grabs himself a plate and utensils. He spoons some food onto his plate and wonders if you’ve eaten well tonight. He hopes wherever this asshole took you, that you didn’t order just a salad. That’s not enough, you need protein. You’re cranky without it. Are you moaning your new lover’s name right now, and if so, how loudly? How sweetly? He can’t even stomach the thought of eating right now. Not when you’re probably laid out in the backseat of his car, fucking someone younger, stronger, kinder than himself. Slut. And you’re doing it just to piss him off, undoubtedly. Roman’s food sits uneaten as he ruminates, biting his inner cheek as he sits at the table.

-

You come home a few hours later, and Roman watches you from his bedroom. Your date gets out of the driver’s seat to open your door, then takes your hand and helps you onto the sidewalk. You kiss him, your hands on his cheeks and his arms around your waist, adding insult when you kick your foot up a little into the air behind yourself. Roman watches the man walk you to the door, hears the faint sound of it opening and closing. You walk up the stairs and into the bedroom, the little smile on your lips falls when you see Roman by the window. “Roman.” 

“Hey, you,” he says, following you into the closet. “Good date?”

“Mhm.” You set your phone on top of the vanity before sitting at it, then take out your earrings one at a time, followed by an attempt to unclasp your necklace. You struggle again, what with the nails. “Help, please.” 

Roman unclasps your necklace. “Where’d he take you?” he asks, dropping the pendant and chain into your hand. He walks back to the closet door. 

“Uhmm,” you hum, “Some Italian restaurant. I don’t remember the name. It wasn’t my favorite.” 

“What’d you have?”

“Soup and salad.”

Roman nods. “And after that?”

“We just walked around.” 

Your blood runs cold when you hear the door lock, you look into the mirror and see Roman jiggling the handle. “Just walked around?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“But it’s cold out. You don’t like to be cold.” You ignore Roman and lean over to take off your borrowed heels, tossing them in the general direction of where the rest of your mother’s shoes are. “And I don’t see any marks or blisters on your ankles, so…you’re lying. I think you fucked him.”

“It’s not your business.” 

“Shut up. Don’t talk back to me.” 

Roman’s staring at you in the mirror, arms folded across his chest. Your heart pounds at the way he looks at you, jaw clenched and eyes dark. Predatory, dangerous. Repulsive, even. You shouldn’t be aroused right now but you are. You always are with him. 

“How’d you fuck him, huh?” Roman’s footsteps are heavy as he makes his way closer to you, one of his hands pushing a bit of hair out of your face when you’re in his reach. “Stand up for me.” 

All it takes is a firm squeeze to the back of your neck, much like the way an animal bites its pup’s scruff to subdue it, and you move at Roman’s will. You’re so pliant, so obedient. Your body moves on its own accord, like you’re not really in control of yourself. Your core is beginning to feel hot, tingling with desire and anticipation as Roman trails the backs of his knuckles down your spine, tracing every joint. 

God, you hate Roman and the way he makes you feel. The anger he stirs in you is palpable, yes. But what’s it born of at this point? Betrayal? For taking advantage of you, putting you in this position? Sure. But maybe on some level, you retaliate because you love the way he bites back, how he reminds you of your role to him. His, whether you want it or not. If you were to let go of your anger and indulge yourself in him the way he does you, what would happen?

“Did you let him come in you?” 

Your mouth goes dry as you attempt to stutter out some sort of response. “I - I d-” 

Roman only nods in response, then bends you over the vanity. He hikes the skirt of your dress up over your hips, exposing your lacy underwear to himself. It’s pretty, and the color you picked looks nice with your skin tone. Roman hooks two fingers under the waistband and pulls, tearing the soft fabric off of your body. Fuck, he loves the sound of it ripping, the sound of your cry. It leaves dark marks on your ass that hurt like rug burn, Roman rubs his fingers in circles over the irritated skin. 

 He thumbs the gusset of your panties, seeing the mess you’ve left for him to clean up. “Mm,” he hums, inspecting the little white ropes of someone else’s come that’ve dripped from your cunt. Roman reaches for your jaw and squeezes the hollows of your cheeks, opening your mouth for him. He shoves your come-stained underwear past your lips, taking care to make sure you taste it, using two fingers to gag you in the process. 

Roman worsens the burns he made in your skin by spanking you fucking hard. He listens to the muffled noises of pain you make as he does it again, your skin rippling beneath his palm. “Shh,” he hushes, quieting you while rubbing his palm over the aching flesh. He spanks you once more for good measure, satisfied when he can see the outline of his hand imprinted on your skin, all swollen and puffy. How easily do you bruise? When Roman looks at you in the mirror, your eyes are red, tear tracks spilling down your cheeks. He spreads your legs apart and unzips his pants, pulling them down just enough to pull his stiff cock out. He spits in his palm and coats himself in it, then drags his head through your folds, feeling for your entrance. “Deep breath,” he instructs, notching himself inside you. You breathe in as best as you can, the action made difficult with a congested nose and panties shoved down your throat. 

Roman sheathes himself in you fully in one swift, harsh motion. You cry into fabric, tears falling from your eyes as you squeeze them shut. It hurts you, your already swollen and raw pussy aching at the cruel intrusion. “Ohh, f-fuck,” Roman groans. In the mirror, you watch him tilt his head back and relish in the pleasure. He pulls out all the way before pushing back in again, harder than he did before. You ball your trembling hands into fists.  

“You can take it,” he says from behind you, “I know you can fucking take it.” 

Roman’s words aren’t encouraging, he isn’t talking you through it like he’s done before. No relax or let daddy take care of you, baby. He doesn’t praise you or call you a good girl. He fucks you like it’s a punishment, because it is. He’s angry, threatened, retaliating. Whether you’re hurting or feeling good right now, he doesn’t care. This is for him. This is his. You are his. 

“Did he make you come?” he pants, pounding his hips against your ass, the head of his cock kissing deep inside you with each of his thrusts. “Did he? Yes or no, it’s a simple fucking question.” 

You shake your head, “Mm-mm,” and it’s the truth.

Roman smiles in satisfaction. “See? So you know what you’re missing. Who makes you come, huh? I do. Right?”

You nod frantically, squirming under Roman as if you could escape the feeling, or at least gain some semblance of control here. It’s too much, too painful. He’s unraveled, lost control of himself. He fucks you unforgivingly like he’s an animal, a slave to his own sick need to satisfy himself. 

“You belong to me,” he says. “Me.”  

Your phone on the vanity begins to vibrate, the screen lit up with the name of your date, a little pink heart emoji next to it. Cute. “Is that your Prince Charming?” Roman takes your phone, holds it up in the mirror for you to see. “The one who can’t make you come?” You nod again. “Should I let him hear what it sounds like when you do?” 

Roman wears a crooked smile at the look of fear on your face, eyes all wide as you frantically shake your head, muffled protests coming from your mouth. “But you make such - such pretty noises. For me, at least.” Roman seriously considers answering for a second, his thrusts faltering as his thumb hovers over the green button. “Fair enough,” he concedes, “Some things should stay sacred.” 

You exhale a sigh of relief and wait for Roman to decline the call, but he never does. Instead, he wriggles his arm under your torso and presses the corner of your vibrating phone against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. Roman continues to fuck you and by this point, and with the help of the vibrating, the pain has begun to dissipate, replaced with pleasure. Your eyes roll back into your skull, brows knit together as you focus on becoming close. You groan in frustration when the call times out and the vibrating ends. “Awwh,” Roman pouts mockingly. “My poor baby.” 

The vibrating begins again, and Roman raises his brows in amusement. “Wow. Eager guy, huh? I think he misses you. What a girl.” 

With Roman pressing your vibrating phone firmly against your clit and the steadfast slamming of his hips against yours, it’s not long before you’re coming on his cock, harder than he expected you to. You’re pulsing around him, gushing, falling to pieces as he fucks you through it. A little wrinkle appears between Roman’s brows, he has to bare his teeth to stave off his own release. 

He leans over your body. “You listen to me,” Roman says. “Only I get to fuck you. Pull this shit again and watch - oh, fuck - you fucking watch what happens,” he threatens. “Nod if you understand.”

You’re too lost in it all to respond. You just watch him in the mirror, mouth slightly agape with a dumb, fucked out look on your face. 

“What’d I say, huh?” Roman smacks your ass, “Nod- if- you- fuck-” punctuating each of his syllables with a thrust, “ -ing -get -it. Jesus Christ.”  

You nod, nod, nod. Roman fucks you through the tremors of your orgasm until he’s sure it’s come and gone, then pulls your phone away from your cunt, the vibrating long since stopped. He puts your phone face down on the dresser before abruptly pulling you up, pressing your back against his chest as he pumps you full of his come, moaning as he spills inside you. You love the way his cock twitches, the warm filling of his come painting your insides, how it feels when it drips from your cunt after he’s pulled out of you. 

Roman pulls your shredded panties out of your mouth and wipes you clean with them, then drops them on the floor. Your thighs are twitching, knees buckling and Roman helps you down, sits you on the floor with him, your back still against his chest. You rest your forehead against his cheek, breathing deeply. 

Roman absentmindedly draws his fingers up and down one of your arms, his insecurity setting in again. “So how uh…how was it, really? The date with…what’s his fuck, I didn’t catch the gentleman’s name.” 

You wrap your hand around Roman’s to still his fidgeting. “Do you actually wanna know?”

Roman sighs. No, he doesn’t. He changes the subject. “There’s takeout in the fridge if you’re hungry.” 

“What takeout?’

“Your uh, I don’t - you know. Your fuckin’...veggie thing, the one you get from our Indian place,” Roman answers quietly. He’s uncomfortable with your silence, second-guessing telling you about this. Or maybe it’s guilt. “It like, auto-ordered or some shit. I don’t know,” he lies.  

“Oh. Okay.” 

“I can heat it up for you, if you’d like,” he offers. “If you’re hungry.” 

Roman Taglist - I tag you if you've rb'd/commented kind things on my Roman works before, and I know not everyone wants post notifications on @strang3stories since that's mostly Pedro character fic. If you'd like to be removed, say the word <3

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamili @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @johnflansburghs-blog @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow

[anangelinthepit]

Without You…

Part 4

Warning ⚠️ - possessive behavior and break in. Uncomfortable topics

************************************************

Noah’s POV

“Oh Ruby, you forgot who you were married to didn’t you ?”

I pushed the guys off of me and let out a frustrated yell. Even though I’m pissed off, I couldn’t help but begin to laugh. One man with all my power doesn’t take losing control gently and welcomes the sweet insanity that follows.

“My wife,” I said looking up at the old broken down building she resided in.

“MY WIFE. The one who is carrying MY son threw me out of her house. This isn’t fucking happening. IM THE ONE WHO CALLS THE FUCKING SHOTS AROUND THIS BITCH.”

After punching the brick wall and kicking over trash cans, the voice of reason began to try and calm my anger.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Nick said in a demanding tone

“A conversation between me and the Mrs,” I said lighting a cigarette

“Noah she’s fucking six months pregnant, what were you planning on doing?”

“Oh please, I wasn’t gonna put my hands on her, but she needs to remember who fucking makes the rules around here. Nick, she shouldn’t be in this shady ass fucking apartment with some bitch she barely knows. I didn’t even have to get rid of her forcefully she was willing to run off and sleep with you. What does that tell you ?”

“It tells me that you’ve gone fucking insane and need to rethink what just happened. The woman you love fears you and doesn’t want anything to do with you. Do you have any idea what it takes to stand up to a person like you?”

“Person like me? I’m her fucking husband! She should obey and respect me!”

“You should be fucking thankful you had a woman like her Noah! Whatever happened to be calm or did that just fly out the fucking window?” Nick said crossing his arms

“I tried that Nick, but it seems like my wife forgot that I’m the only one in the relationship who is supposed to have a set of fucking balls!”

“Dude I may be your henchman but I’m also your best friend and I’m telling you this because I care about you. What you did in there just pushed her even further away. You are going to push her into the wrong fucking arms. She is to the point where the only way you’re going to get her back now is if you force her.”

I looked up at Nick and smiled at him. It’s almost like he read my mind.

“Force?” I said to myself

Feeling a sensation of happiness l and pure heat come over me, I gave myself a friendly and encouraging reminder.

I’m the strongest man in fucking California right now. Why didn’t I think of this before? I’ve got all the money, power, and men to control a fucking army. What is stopping me from bringing my wife home?

“No. NO. Noah don’t you fucking dare.” Nick said glaring at me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Call up Davis and tell him to meet us at the hotel. Ruby is coming home.” I said flicking my cigarette.

“I really gotta watch my fucking words from now on.”

We made our way back to the hotel with Davis and Matt waiting. The only thing I could think about was how my wife was gonna be begging for me to let her come home after all of this. She'll be at my feet, asking for my forgiveness. Of course, I'll have to play hard to get but the least I can do is give in a little.

“You got the blueprints of the building Davis?”

“No, but you’re not gonna need them. This building only has two exits and get this, Sapphire is 1 of 4 other tenants. The damn place is so old you could pull apart the bricks piece by piece.”

“That's it?”

“Yup”

“So what’s the plan here boss?” Matt asked

I took a deep breath and contemplated on if this was a good idea. As much as I hate causing her so much discomfort, this is my only option. I’ll change my ways but first, she needs to come back home to me. She doesn’t understand how much I truly need her, and if she could just stop being stubborn and open her fucking eyes she would see that.

If she won’t come home willing then I’m gonna show her how scary the world is without me there to protect her.

“In two days you guys are going to pay Y/N a visit.”

“What kind of visit?” Nick asked

“You’ll see.”

Nick got up and walked away in disgust. I don't know what his problem is lately but he's turning soft on me. I'm gonna need him to toughen up a bit if he wants to stick with this family.

“Davis go fucking talk to him. I don't have time to give the princess treatment right now.”

Davis grunted and went outside to catch up with Nick. I don't have time for his emotional bullshit. Right now I need to get my Ruby back home and make sure she stays there. Permanently

Nick's POV

“He doesn't fucking deserve her goddamit!”

I yelled throwing a trash can and kicking the remnants that fell. God if only he fucking knew. Does he not understand? He had a good woman next to him and he gave it up for all this bullshit. I lit a cigarette and tried to calm my nerves while Davis came out and asked me if I was okay.

“I'm fine dude I just need a minute.”

“Well, Noah told me to tell you to toughen up.

I laughed at what Davis said, it's so obvious that Noah is wrapped in his world and doesn't have time to be gentle in nurturing anyone. How is that man going to take care of a baby? Y/N was smart to run.

“He doesn't deserve her Davis. You know it and I know it.”

“It's not my business Nick. I work for the man.”

“This can't be happening,” I said dragging my fingers through my hair

“I do know one thing though, if you keep running your mouth and don't control that serpent that's in your pants, He's gonna make me cut it off and force you to watch..”

I couldn't help but scoff at him.

“You know don’t you?” I asked

“Seriously? Are you trying to get me killed too? If I admit what I know then we’re both in deep shit. I don’t like the way he treats her either but overstepping boundaries with him is not something I have the balls to do. I don’t think you realize you dug your own grave, Nick.”

I looked up at the sky for answers but as always received nothing. Did I make a mistake? What am I gonna do when he finds out and will I be able to handle him?

“I don’t know if I can pretend anymore.”

“Look dude, fake it till you make it. Fuck some other girl or smoke some weed. I don't care, just figure it out. Also, don't make me a fucking accomplice to whatever Lifetime movie bullshit you got going on. Got it?”

I flicked my cigarette and went back inside. I’m gonna have to keep this bullshit cover-up for a little while longer, and even though it kills me, I’m willing to do it.

I’m willing to do anything for her.

Noah and Matt were talking but stood abruptly and stared at me when I walked into the room. I’ll play my card right and keep the poker face that I’m so good at having on.

“I'm ready for whatever you need me for Boss.”

Noah shot me a smirk and waved me over. Hearing them talk over the plan made my gut turn, but having to agree with it was even worse.

Poison on my fucking tongue

Two days later

Y/N’s POV

I’m still feeling shaken up about what happened. I couldn't focus at work and Sapphire began to notice I was dwelling on how things needed between Noah and me. I’ve never seen him get so angry at me, now of course we had our fights but what I witnessed was what I can only consider as maximum rage. I used to think he would never lay his hands on me but him flipping that table the way he did now has me second-guessing. Six months pregnant and he almost put me in harm's way.

“You’re fucking mine!”

“I'm not his fucking wife, I'm his goddamn property,” I said to myself shaking my head. Why the hell did I ever agree to this?

The moonlight shined down on me after another shitty night at the bar. I waved goodbye to my boss and made the drive home. Still feeling on edge I got to the apartment and was met once again with silence. I began to get nervous as I called out for Sapphire, I heard nothing until I went towards her room and could hear her shower running. Having a wave of relief come over me, I went into my room and tried to wind down for the night. Sitting down on the bed trying to massage my swollen feet, I realized skipping out on a shared probably wasn’t in my best interest. I smelled like sweat and unwanted married men's hormones crawling all over me. I let out a huge sigh and made my way to the bathroom when I got a text.

It was from Sapphire

Sapphire

Hey, I met this really cute guy, so I'm gonna chill at his place 2night. Wish me luck ;)

Me

Oh so is that why you're in the shower? Lmfao gurll you do you. Just careful

I smiled and just shook my head at my bestie's promiscuous ways. I figured I should offer her a ride to this guy's house because I don't want her walking and it also gives me an excuse to go get Chinese food. As I made my way to her bedroom door, I received another text.

Sapphire

The shower? Girl I wish, my boss is making me close 2night so I still have another two hours left.

What…

Feeling my heart drop into my fucking stomach, I read over her message about 10 times. I frantically texted her back telling her that someone was in our apartment and what I should do.

Just like in a horror movie with an awful plot. The lights cut out in the fucking apartment, I wanted to scream but was too scared to do so. I slowly began to move away from her door and tried my hardest to make my way back to my bedroom to call the police. I began to back up, trying to not make myself noticeable to whoever was in her room. I could hear the shower water cut off, it was almost like the intruder was listening for my footsteps. I wasn't too far from my room when I heard frantic running in Sapphires. Whoever was in there heard me and was now making it their mission to get me. As my fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, I swiftly turned around to flee, only to be met by a tall figure who was as tough as concrete. Being shoved to the ground I began screaming and crying for them not to hurt me.

“Please, I'm pregnant! Don't hurt me I'm begging you!”

I could hear the men laughing as I struggled to back away from them. Not realizing my surroundings I ended up being backed into the wall.

“MY HUSBAND IS NOAH SEBASTIAN DAVIS, IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME HE’LL FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU!”

Even in pitch-black darkness, I could tell that one of the men was only a couple of inches away from my face. I could feel and smell his hot breath in which I almost began to vomit. He put his hand on my stomach and leaned in to whisper in my ear

“Oh, babydoll.”

Those words cut through me like a knife

“I need you to do me a favor okay?”

I could feel something cold and sharp press against my neck and slid down to expose the cleavage under my shirt

“You tell Noah I said Hello, and if he ever lets you go again, I'm just gonna have to keep you.”

They kissed my forehead which caused me to break out into a cold sweat. God his lips felt dirty and unpure.

“Let's go boys!”

I heard what sounded like 4-5 men walk away from me and go towards my front door. My theory was confirmed when the hallway light shined in illuminating 5 men.

Before closing it, the one masked man gave me the “hush” sign and a creepy smile.

I lay there on the dirty hard wooden floor sobbing and falling apart. Making myself have enough courage and energy to get up and grab the phone. I dialed frantically and prayed he would pick up.

“Ruby?”

“Noah? Oh, thank God. Please listen to me, you have to come get me.

“Ruby, what happened?

“These. These m-men broke into my apartment and shoved me down for the g-ground.”

“Ruby slow down I can't understand you.”

I was shaking uncontrollably but I needed to pull myself together. I took a deep breath brought the phone back up to my ear and explained what happened.

“Noah I think there's a Rival group because they told me to tell you, that they're watching and if you let me go again they're gonna kidnap me. Noah Im so fucking scared please come get me!”

I fell back into hysterics and just wanted my husband. He's a fucking psycho but at least no one messed with me when I was with him.

“Are you and the baby okay?”

“Yes yes, Theo and I are fine. They just shoved me, I was able to catch myself so it wasn't so hard. Just please come get us.”

I heard nothing but silence on the phone. What the fcuk did he hang up on me? God if I can’t rely on him anymore then please protect me and my baby.

“Noah?”

“Do you finally get it, Ruby?”

“What?”

“I said do you finally get it?”

“Baby please stop, just come get me. Please!”

God, why is he making me beg?

“I can't protect you if you run away and try to be “miss independent”. Your life was always good here. If I come and get you, you better not pull this stunt ever again. There will be security in you 24/7 got it?”

I wanted to protest but the sound of phantom footsteps kept psyching me out. I didn't care anymore I just wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay, baby I will never do this again I swear, just please come get us. Noah, I can't do this on my own.”

Noah let out a huge sigh and told me he would be in about 10 minutes. I hurried and gathered my things and waited. Every minute felt like centuries, praying that those monsters wouldn't come back. I got a text from Noah saying he was here and sending Nick up to help me to the car. Oh, why couldn't it have been someone else? I waited for what seemed like forever and started to feel a nervous feeling in the bottom of my gut. I haven't seen Nick in so long, I almost forgot what he looked like. Hearing a pounding on my door, I ran over, took a deep breath, and opened it. I was met with long black hair, beautiful green eyes, and a warm smile that was always so welcoming.

“Nick”

“Y/N”

I don't know what it was but something about his smile made me collapse into his arms and start sobbing. His tight hold on me already made me feel so safe that the thought of letting go hurt.

“I got you, Angel.”

My legs could no longer hold me up and we slid down to the floor together.

“Oh, Nick. Please don't let me go.” I said sobbing into his chest

“You know I have to Angel, he's down there waiting for us.“

Nick caressed my face and made me look at him.

“Be my strong girl for me one more time, okay?

“Okay.”

Nick helped me up and walked me down to the limo. Jolly was waiting for me outside the vehicle and opened the door for me when I closed enough. I got in and could feel the tension in the air once again. Noah sat across from me with an evil look on his face. I'm not sure what I was expecting but this wasn't it. We began to drive and were only 10 minutes away from the house. I couldn't wait to shower and sleep in my bed again. I knew I wouldn't be let off so easily with this, I looked away from the window and saw that Noah was glaring at me while Nick was still facing the other way. I broke the silence and spoke which I should have known was a mistake.

“Thank you.”

Noah leaned forward and said, in a low deep growl.

“Get on your knees”

“Pardon?”

Nick snapped out of his trance and tried to grasp the situation.

“Noah she's six months pregnant, don't do this right now,” Nick begged

“Stay the fuck out of this Nick.” Noah snapped

“I said on your knees, Ruby”

I did as I was told, and got on the limo floor gently going down in my knees.

Noah yanked my chin upward forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“This is how obedient you are going to be from now on. Understand?”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“Yes”

“Get the hell up and sit there. We will talk more when we get back to the house.”

I got back up in the seat and wiped my tears. How is it that I trade one evil for another? I can't keep doing this anymore, I started to regret my decision but now it's too late. I looked over at Nick who was having a stare-down with Noah. I wish he would just look at me and not trouble the waters that we got ourselves into.

I need him right now and I don’t know how much longer I will be able to play pretend.

**********************************************

Hey guys, sorry it took so long. This story really had me wondering what I should do with. I hope you all enjoyed. Love you dearly

-Magenta 🌹

Taglist

@reyadawn @bloodylullaby @fadingintothegrey @aubrey-melinoe @supersquirrel1996 @thisbicc @amelia-acero @dreamstyles @ashdreamsalone @iluvmewwwww75 @lma1986 @concreteemo