#a good dad is hard to come by in this series...... and when we do he gets dumped in the fucking BAY GOD DAMMIT

[todayisafridaynight]

Sohei 🤝 Kazama: Bad dads

who even IS a good dad in this series like who even is a dad that we can all look at and go 'now THATS a good dad right there'

#snap chats #this is a trick question of course. i ALWAYS mean arakawa is number one peepaw in my heart #but fr like date / the florist / yuta's bitchass dad...... #a good dad is hard to come by in this series...... and when we do he gets dumped in the fucking BAY GOD DAMMIT #see every time i want to call jo a good dad i hear my bestie come from the top rope with 'he put a baby in a locker' #CAUSE ITS AN AWKWARD MOMENT NOW INNIT. TERRIBLE start to fatherhood and being gone for five years is ALSO p rough #like its such a paradox because yes jo was there for near four decades for masato when he didnt have to #but he was also the reason why he had to be there for masato yk what i mean. also Thats His Kid #hes not a step dad he's the dad that came back with the milk ykwim #I THINK credit should be accredited when its due like at least he was ready to sacrifice the rest of his life to make up for his mistake #and its not like he thinks he'll ever be forgiven by. Whatever Entity decrees someone is forgiven or not #so its not like he'd even call himself a good dad ☠️☠️ #so yk what. im gonna put him in the Ironically A Solid Dad corner #at least until rgg gives me the househusband special where jo gotta babysit masato for a day... yeah id pay for that #most of these tags are about jo what the fuck else is new. he stimulates my brain leave me alone #i dont wanna talk about kiryu being a dad i already know there's a sniper light on the back of my head #my point is rgg is gooddadphobic

[welcometogrouchland]

Bee and puppycat lazy in space I love you so so much it's not even funny

#ramblings of a lunatic #decided to rewatch it again bc the toh finale has had me in a tizzy and while I'm getting better #it's definitely been hard just floating about in fandom space knowing that the show is ending and that in the scenario we do get more of it #in another form ofc #it won't be for a long time yknow? #it's saddening and back in September when i was uh. Very Sad bapc was really there for me #i was out here ardently defending the netflix series' writing bc i genuinely thought it was really good #and i still do #but more than that this show is intensely comforting in a way i can't really place/describe #it's a magical girl show. it's a workplace comedy. 99% of the cast is 25 years or older. its a coming of age story. #it's has pastel and lo-fi art direction. it's cosmic horror. the main character is so caring and yet so selfish and also autistic #and a robot #all of her romantic relationships are intensely weird and frankly are her least interesting dynamics #her most interesting dynamics are with her roomate/pet who's actually a space pirate cursed to look like a marketable plushy #and with her 8 year old landlord who's mom was childhood best friends with her dad making them family in a sense #except they're not really. also they're foils (she's an immature adult he's a kid who tries to be more responsible than he is) #it's filled with intense melancholy and multiple characters suffer from un-talked about depression #it is one of the cutest and brightest shows i have ever seen (in a non-obnoxious or technicolor way) and has an intense air of whimsy #it kinda has a fandom but not a big one despite having an undeniable impact in online animation culture and a bit on online culture overall #I'm not captivated by it in a fandom-y sense but i am obsessed with it. it's like wuthering heights to me #i love this show

[slippery-minghus]

x

#i haven't gotten a copy yet but fucK it's so heartening to see the new danny phantom comic doing so well #it's literally sold out on amazon. like how??? #because like. #one of the first real career goals i ever had #that was more than just small child 'i wanna be president!' #was to get good at the drawing skills i was juuust starting to acquire and go to animation school so i could reboot danny phantom someday #and i still #i still vividly remember the day i excitedly told my dad about that goal #we were at my grampa's house and i was so excited to declare my plans and dreams #and i couldn't even get the whole sentence out of my mouth before my dad shut it down hard #so like a good little girl i gave up that dream right then and there #(in front of my grandfather who had only had the luxury of starting to pursue art in his 70s) #(i really do miss my grampa. no one in this family would have had my back like him but he died long before i could know that) #and it's just. it makes me so happy to know that me giving up thay dream didn't mean that series wouldn't be brought back #that other people wanted it as badly as i did #i don't draw anymore. not really since i left college 6 years ago #too busy with work and life and i was always so mich better at writing anyway #(irony wasn't included when my dad told teenage me i should pursue a writing career and make bank writing tv scripts) #(he'd hate to see me striking right now if i WAS a tv writer lmao) #i'm happy where i'm at in life- even if none of my big dreams have ever come to fruition #there's still time for more dreams and i do have a few (like building my house and writing arena) #and in the end i'm just so happy that there are still so many people that love the series that made me who i am #and loving it enough still to bring it back new #personal

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Three - Playdate

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.5K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Daniel held Olivia's hands as they walked towards the house. There was a cat sat outside of the door, watching as the approached. When they got too close, the cat scarpered, running into the neighbours garden.

Stepping up to the door, Daniel knocked. He squeezed Olivias hand as they waited for the door to open.

"Coming!" Came a faraway voice. In no time at all the door was open and Y/N was welcoming the two of them into her house.

"Hey Olivia!" Y/N cheered as she pulled open the door.

Daniel grinned as he and his daughter stepped inside. "Hey," he said as Y/N shut the door. "Thanks for doing this." He muttered the last part, trying not to let Olivia hear him.

"It's no problem," she said, walking in front of them and leading them into the living room. "Can I get either of you something to drink?"

As soon as Olivia was in the living room, Milo was on his feet, shouting his name as he ran towards her. The two embraced and Milo pulled her into the middle of the room, where he had a collection of toys already set out. "My Momma said we can watch a movie while we play," he said, sitting on the floor.

As the two began playing, Daniel sat on one of the sofas and Y/N walked in with glasses of water for her guests. "What're we watching, kids?" She asked as she sat on the opposite side of the sofa to Daniel.

"Barbie," Olivia said instantly.

"Momma no! I don't want to watch barbie!" Milo suddenly called.

Y/N opened a streaming service and began scrolling through the kids section. "How about we find something we can all agree on?" She said calmly as she searched for a movie.

They settled on the Lorax. The kids played as Daniel and Y/N watched over them, the film playing in the background.

As they played, Y/N shuffled closer to Daniel. "I wasn't sure what to get for dinner so I got several different pizzas. I hope that's okay."

"That's more than okay," Daniel said as he took off his Red Bull hat. "Olivia doesn't get pizza very often."

"Why's that?" She asked as she looked at him, her body full turned towards him (this didn't go unnoticed by Milo and Olivia).

Daniels fingers drummed against the arm of the sofa. "She might have it at her mums place, but Livvy insists she eats like me when she's at mine so she can be just like her daddy."

Before Y/N could push for more information, Olivia turned around. "Daddy, shut up!" She called.

Suddenly, Daniel levelled her with a look. "Do you want to try that again, little lady?"

She blushed pink and looked down at her socks. "Daddy, could you be quiet so Milo and I can watch the TV?"

It was better, but Olivia still could have been politer. But Daniel let it go. He didn't push, didn't want to embarrass her in front of her friend.

Towards the end of the movie Y/N got up. She stood from the sofa and walked out of the room, leaving them there while she went to the kitchen. With the doors open, she could hear as the kids watched TV and played while she put the pizzas in the oven and set a timer on her phone.

After a short episode of scooby doo, the kids were sat at the kitchen table, two pizzas in front of them. They picked and chose which pizza they wanted, leaving what they didn't. Y/N knew they'd never eat it all, leaving what they didn't want for her and Daniel.

After they had eaten, Milo pulled Olivia out of the kitchen, and up to his bedroom. Poppy that cat had made her way up to his bedroom while they were all downstairs, sleeping on Milo's bed. But, as soon as she heard them running up the stairs, she scarpered, running down the stairs and out of the cat flap.

Full and tired from an afternoon of playing, Milo and Olivia soon found themselves asleep on the floor. Their parents found them when Y/N gave Daniel and tour of their small house. She picked up Milo and placed him in his bed as Daniel scooped up Olivia.

"I guess we should get going," he said, holding her in his arms.

Y/N looked towards her bedroom. She and Daniel hadn't had a proper chance to talk, and she wanted to know more. He was intriguing, incredibly so, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. "Well, you could let her have a nice little sleep in here," she said and pushed open her bedroom door.

Daniel grinned as he walked Olivia into the bedroom. He laid her down onto the bed and laid her down in it, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Leaving the door open to give her some light, Y/N took Daniel back downstairs. They walked through the kitchen and out into the back garden. The porch light was on as they sat on the swinging chair and faced each other. "Can I ask you something rather personal?" She asked as she gently rocked the chair with her foot.

"Go for it," Daniel replied, Poppy the cat suddenly jumping up between them. She ignored her owner, immediately settling onto Daniels lap, promptly falling asleep.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. It was something that had been weighing on her mind for the last week, something that Milo had told her when he first met Olivia. "Milo says Olivia doesn't like her mum. Can I ask what that's about?"

The smile dropped from Daniel’s face. He did that a lot, Y/N had begun to realise from the two times she had met him, He shifted in his seat as he scratched at Poppy’s coat. “Olivia doesn’t talk to me about what happens at her mum’s house. But she does talk to my parents. She doesn’t hit her, but she does make her miserable. Olivia gets locked in her room whenever she shows the slightest hint of attitude and her mum’s constant stream of boyfriends piss her off. She said that once, that they piss her off. I’ll let you guess where she learned that.”

Daniel went on, becoming more and more distressed. But Poppy pawing at his leg stopped him. He scratched at her chin and looked at Y/N, letting a smile cross his face. “Anyway,” he said. “My turn with the deep questions.”

He asked the one question Y/N wasn’t keen on answering. Not that she wanted it to be a secret, and she was definitely going to answer him. But after five years it still wasn’t the easiest subject to talk about.

“I was nineteen when I found out I was pregnant with Milo. I told my partner at the time, and he wanted nothing to do with me. I told my parents, and they wanted nothing to do with me. So I took off, moved out here, got a job and gave birth to Milo. It’s been just me and him ever since. His dad knows nothing about him and never will. It’s me and Milo against the world.” She sat up a little straighter. As it got later in the day, the sun began to dip and the air turned ever so slightly colder. “How about you? What happened with you and Olivia’s mother?”

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. He actually shrugged. What kind of response was that? But Y/N said nothing as he began talking. “We were in love, moved too fast. Olivia was born exactly nine months into our relationship, when I was racing in Silverstone-“ A fact Daniel would never forgive himself for, that he missed the birth of his daughter. “-Things had been sour between us since before Olivia was born, but we tried to stay together for her. But we realised she would have been growing up in a shitty environment, so we went our separate ways.”

They continued talking through the night, until Olivia and Milo came running downstairs, now wide away. Milo climbed into his mother’s lap while Olivia grabbed a hold of her father’s arm. “Daddy, can we live here?” She asked, reaching towards Poppy the cat.

Daniel laughed. He went to stand up, moving Poppy from his lap, and scooped Olivia into his arms. “Come on, Badger. Let’s get you home to bed.”

She pouted, laying her head on his shoulder. “Can we come back tomorrow?”

For a minute Daniel looked like he was thinking about it. “We could,” he mused. “Or we could take Y/N and Milo to the park, play on the swings and get some ice cream? How does that sound?”

Both kids cheered.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @stay1strongbeautiful @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @stay1strongbeautiful @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

[whorekneecentral]

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

--

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

--

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr  @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen smut #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

[sundrop-writes]

Careful - Chapter Six (Finale)

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Six: That's What You Get

That’s what you get when you let your heart win.

Summary:

Spencer finally confronts the man who has been threatening you, and even if things don't go according to plan, he finds the strength to overcome - to protect you and your son.

Even if he's unsure about what comes next, he knows one thing - he's never been happier.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut, Angst, and Fluff.

Word Count: 10,400

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Warning - this chapter has not been edited. Thanks to this lovely anon, I have been motivated to post this chapter as soon as possible, and so I am posting it without editing it to get it off my plate. It may not be as good or as thoughtful as the other chapters because it's not edited... but I'm not even sure I care.

Detailed warnings below the cut and author's notes at the very end of the fic.

Warnings: (this list may not be as detailed or complete as other chapters because usually I write the warnings list while editing, and I have not edited this chapter, so I do apologise if I have accidentally left out some warnings. this is all from memory and I'm pretty sure this is everything); typical Criminal Minds warnings - mentions of murder and killing, the UnSub attacks Spencer and the reader; descriptions of physical violence (mostly done to Spencer because the reader gets away); the UnSub and Spencer get into a physical fight; mentions of Spencer having injuries from the UnSub's attack; Sebastian is completely unharmed; mentions of Emily being drugged in the form of a (fictional) knock-out gas; mentions of the anxiety and bad emotions that this kind of attack can cause; Spencer and the reader have sex - unprotected p in v sex; mentions of potential body insecurity after giving birth; breeding kink; mentions of pregnancy - and I believe that's it.

...

“Go upstairs, get Sebastian, take him in your room and lock the door. Call JJ or any contact in his phone labeled BAU. Call until they pick up and tell them that we need back up here. No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody. Got it?” 

The words had barely penetrated your ears, your heart thumping so hard in your chest that you could barely process it. 

Go upstairs. Get Sebastian. Call JJ. 

You clutched Spencer’s phone tight in your hand, knowing that it was imperative not to lose it, not to drop it along the way. 

Spencer moved toward the source of the noise, toward your office door, yielding the kitchen knife in hand as his weapon and you slid off the counter on shaking legs as you ran toward the stairs. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the office door burst open - it opened in the direction to smack Spencer in the face; clearly, the man had heard him approaching and opened the door with the intention to hit him with it. You heard Spencer grunt in pain and you saw blood. 

The door had hit him the face, maybe broken his nose. 

You paused on the bottom stare. 

“Spencer-!” 

“The good doctor won’t be your problem anymore.” The man growled, emerging from the darkness of your office. 

He was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt, partially obscuring his face, and you froze in fear as he stalked down the hallway toward you. Heavy boots stomping across the floor as a dizzy Spencer tried to recover from the injury. 

“Go!” Spencer choked out, his mouth filling with blood as it leaked from his nose. 

You screamed at your legs to move, and you stumbled upward, crawling up the stairs on your hands at knees. 

You let out a scream when you felt a strange, gloved hand on your hip - another hand desperately gripping onto the waistband of your pants, as though trying to pull you backwards by the fabric. 

“Spencer!” 

You screamed out his name on instinct, no other word coming to your lips when you were terrified - thinking of no one else who could save you when your limbs collapsed, shaking from terror. 

Suddenly then, the foreign hands of a monster were gone from you. 

“Go!” Spencer screamed again, his voice slightly muffled. You heard a thump, but couldn’t look behind you. You could only guess that it was Spencer wrestling the man away from you - keeping you out of danger. “Go, Y/N!”

You forced your limbs to work, and you pushed yourself up, panting out anxious breaths as you climbed up the stairs, your heart nearly racing out of your chest as you escaped the man who had been intending to kill you. 

… 

Meanwhile, at the police station, JJ walked into the conference room nursing another cup of coffee. 

“Hey, did you send someone over to watch over the house?” She asked Hotch. 

“I sent Prentiss over with one of the locals.” Hotch nodded. 

This calmed JJ a bit. She knew that Prentiss was good. Even if she didn’t know you, she was protective. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you on her watch. 

Hotch then became absorbed in a file he was reading and JJ became distracted when Morgan spoke to her. 

“Can you believe that pretty boy might actually be a dad?” He posed, slumping back in his chair with a tired huff. 

“Might be?” JJ asked, wondering what he meant. 

“Well…” Morgan turned the chair toward her, and he gave a distinct, stiff expression - one of dubious uncertainty. 

JJ raised her brows back in return. 

“Do you really think that she would lie to Spencer about this?” JJ pressed. 

“Well… I don’t know. I just can’t imagine Reid makin’ the home-run in order to have a kid.” Morgan shrugged. 

JJ let out a dry laugh. 

“Come on, get serious.” She sighed. “I mean… I did consider that too.” She said. “But he told me that they definitely…” She finished off this thought with a simple expression to explain what she meant, and Morgan grinned and laughed. 

“Oh, my man.” He said, clearly proud of the idea of Spencer having enough sex to produce a child. “I can’t believe playboy had a girlfriend and didn’t tell me.” 

“I think he was embarrassed.” JJ shrugged. “Like… back then we all considered him a baby. And he didn’t wanna disappoint us, or have us make fun of him.” 

Morgan nodded. “Good point.” He sipped his own coffee. “Well… now he’s stuck payin’ child support cause he didn’t come to Uncle Morgan for The Talk and he didn’t know how to use a condom.” 

JJ giggled and shook her head. 

“You know what Spencer actually said to me?” JJ posed. 

Morgan hummed in reply, now curious. 

“He said that he would be disappointed if he found out that the kid wasn’t his.” She told him, remarking on the earlier conversation that she had with Reid. 

Morgan chuckled. “Well, what does that look like to you?” He said, picking up one of the stalker photos that the UnSub had sent of you and your son. Clearly, he was saying that by looks alone - it was very likely Spencer’s kid. 

“Tiny Spencer.” JJ chuckled. 

“I would say it’s pretty safe to confirm that the kid is his.” Morgan shrugged. 

JJ nodded, and then he added on: 

“He’s probably gonna come in here and tell us how many germs are on preschool toys, and the likelihood of falling down in a playground accident.” Morgan remarked, making a joke about Spencer’s traits passing on to his son (not yet knowing how true it actually was). 

JJ let out a bright laugh. “Oh my god.” 

… 

Spencer was nearly blinded with pain when the UnSub shoved the door back into his face, and he tried his best to use sheer force of will to power through it. 

He couldn’t let a simple little injury get in the way. He had to protect you now. He had to protect his son. 

He heard you scream and when he looked over, that man had his filthy hands all over you, clearly trying to pull you down the stairs toward him. 

“Spencer!” You called out desperately, clearly looking for his help. 

“Go!” Spencer yelled at you, encouraging you to get away. 

Spencer ran over to the stairs and without hesitation, grabbed the man by the back of his sweatshirt, hauling him off you with a strength he didn’t know he had, and looping his arm around the man’s shoulder in order to raise the hand wielding the kitchen knife - he stabbed blindly and landed a shallow blow between the UnSub’s ribs, causing him to grunt and stumble backwards onto Spencer, knocking them both over - making Spencer hit the ground hard on his back with the man’s weight falling on top of him. 

“Go, Y/N!” He yelled, wheezing past the pain of the fall as he pushed the man off him, tightly keeping his grip on the knife, pulling it out of the wound as he moved, knowing that it would do the most damage to leave the cut gaping and bleeding freely - hoping that the man would pass out from blood loss. 

Spencer heard thumping as you ran up the stairs, and he hoped that the UnSub wouldn’t chase you - he was still dizzy from having his head knocked around twice in the past five minutes, and suddenly, the knife was snatched out of his hand as the man rose to his feet, somehow so lively and energetic after just being stabbed. 

“How kind of you, Doctor Reid.” The man grinned down at him, whipping the hood off his head, revealing a menacing, cold smile on a terribly average face. He pressed a boot into the middle of Spencer’s chest, making him cough and sputter as the air was pressed out of him by pressure on his sternum. “You brought me the knife that I’m going to kill your whore with.” 

Those words somehow gave Spencer all the power he needed. Pure, unbridled rage fueling him - the thought that he had failed you all those years ago, that he had been the monster in your life and he needed to rise up and defeat the monster for you now. 

He reached up and dug his fingers into a tender nerve in the man’s calf, something he knew simply from studying human anatomy in books, and the muscles in his leg went limp - Spencer then used his grip to pull the man’s leg forward, knocking his whole body off-kilter and sending him falling onto his back. Spencer climbed on top of him and delivered a weak punch before he was flipped over again - when the UnSub raised the knife toward him, Spencer instinctively put up his arm and felt something slice through his flesh, but the pain didn’t register with the adrenaline pumping through his body. 

He jabbed two sharp fingers into the man’s windpipe, leaving him gasping while he got up and ran toward the kitchen - in honesty, looking for more tools to harm the man with. A frying pan, perhaps. He only made it partway through the living room before the UnSub caught up to him, and pinned him against one of the large bookshelves that you had bracketing the television - when Spencer felt the sharp blade of the knife ghosting against his throat, he instinctively went stalk still. 

“There ya go.” The man whispered. “Gentle now.” 

“Fuck you.” Spencer rasped out in reply, struggling for a moment against the hold - he felt the blade just barely bite at his skin, not yet cutting - and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get very far. 

“Stop struggling, Doctor.” The man mocked him, fisting the front of his shirt, forcing him to be still. Spencer’s heart thumped in his chest, and though there was an undertone of fear, rage was the headliner still as it pulsed through him. “I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go.” 

Spencer remained silent, allowing himself more time to think as the man rambled on. 

“I’m gonna take this knife, and I’m gonna stab it right through your spine, severing your spinal cord. So you won’t be able to move. You won’t be able to run, or fight. You won’t be able to do a damn thing to save her.” The man explained with vervant, graphic joy. “And I’m gonna prop you up right over there-” He motioned to one of the living room chairs with a single finger. “So that you can watch while I fuck your bitch. With my cock and with my knife. And you can beg, and you can cry the whole time. Right up until I slit her pretty throat. And I’ll probably even leave you alive. So that you can just… live with the knowledge that you’re a pathetic little worm who couldn’t save her. And then, I think I’m gonna take your kid with me when I leave.” He chuckled. “I’ll raise him up good, so that he can come back and finish off Daddy when he gets older.” 

He reached up and slapped Spencer on the cheek - just a tap, just enough to humiliate him along with the words. 

“Does that sound like a plan, Doctor?” 

Spencer let out an enraged huff. Like a bull rearing up to charge. 

If he wanted to play - then Spencer could play. 

Especially because the pathology was all too clear now. 

“I get it now.” Spencer let out the words casually. “You know, we thought that because you were targeting single mothers, you had been neglected by your mother in childhood and you were taking out an inherent rage that you had toward women ever since. But it all makes sense now.” He chucked. 

The UnSub looked at him with intrigue in his eyes, and didn’t speak, so clearly he wanted to know what it was that Spencer had to say - he was too curious by the breakdown of his own mind that Spencer was going to give him. 

Spencer took an uninterested glance up at the ceiling, making the man wait more for him to continue speaking, and then he saw it. His way to truly gain the upper hand. 

Sebastian’s Halloween candy bucket was balanced right on the edge of the shelf above his head. It would be the perfect surprise. 

“You hated your father for abandoning you.” Spencer concluded, looking back at the man with a purely smug expression. “So now you feel a need to play Daddy to get some kind of personal fulfillment - to supposedly be the man that your father never was. And you feel an intense rage toward any man who supposedly abandoned their own child in return - which is what you think I’ve done.” 

Spencer grinned. 

“But I’ll give you a little newsflash. You’ll never be a good father, and you’ll never get anywhere near my son.” 

Spencer then bumped himself backwards into the shelf, knocking the candy bucket down onto the UnSub’s head - it wasn’t heavy, but the plastic hitting him, along with the sudden rain of candy made him jolt with the surprise, causing him to jump backward, finally removing the knife from Spencer’s throat. 

This gave Spencer the chance to tackle him. 

… 

When you raced to the top of the stairs and got to Sebastian’s room, he was peeking nervously through a crack in the door at you. 

“Mommy?” He asked anxiously. “What’s that noise?” 

“Come here.” You reached your arms out to him and he ran to you, clearly understanding that it was urgent. 

You hugged him tightly and took him down the hall, and you heard another crash from downstairs. Sebastian whimpered and hugged you back tightly. 

‘No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody.’

Spencer’s instructions had been very clear, but - you couldn’t leave him alone. You couldn’t leave him to go through hell by himself. Not this time. 

You knew exactly what you needed to do. 

You took Sebastian into your room and locked the door, just as Spencer had said, and then you took him over to your closet and set him down inside. 

“Mommy, what’s happening?” Sebastian asked, his voice clearly verging on tears. 

“Seb, you have to listen very carefully.” You told him, gently grabbing both sides of his face, still holding the phone, forcing his attention toward you. 

Unfortunately, none of the parenting books you had read described how to talk to a child about a situation like this, so you went with your gut. You tried to speak in a calm voice so as not to alarm him, but you wanted to speak honestly and stress the seriousness of the situation. 

“There is a bad man in the house.” You said, firmly. “If the bad man finds you, he could hurt you. So you have to hide in the closet, okay?” 

“Okay.” Sebastian said, his voice small and frightened. Your gut twisted knowing that he was afraid - but you were going to do everything in your power to keep him from getting hurt. 

“Spencer is trying to make the bad man go away. But I have to go help him.” You added on. “I’m going to dial a number on the phone. And you’re gonna talk to my friend JJ. And you’re gonna tell her that we need her to come and help. Okay?” 

Sebastian was smart. You trusted him to do it. 

You flipped open the phone and found JJ’s contact among the most recent, and selected it. 

“If no one answers then you hit this button.” You told Sebastian, showing him the ‘redial’ button. “Okay?” 

He nodded. 

“Okay, here. Take the phone and go in there.” You pointed for him to go further back into the large closet, and you grabbed a teddy bear off your bed that he had there from a few nights before and passed it in to him. “We can’t turn on the light because you’re hiding, okay?” You told him. 

He looked up at you with those big eyes, and you saw nothing but Spencer. 

“I’m brave.” He told you with certainty. 

You felt as though you were stabbed in the chest as you closed the closest door, leaving him there. You heard another loud bang from downstairs, which caused you to move with more urgency - you had a large bookshelf, filled to the brim with books, beside the closet, and usually, it wouldn’t be something that you’d be able to move even an inch without help (or without unloading it, taking away the books first). But you moved to the side and pushed - and pushed with all your might, making it scrape across the floor until it was fully covering the closet door. 

Hearing more indiscernible shouts coming from downstairs, you moved with renewed determination toward your side table, ripping it open and grabbing the lockbox, putting in the code and grabbing your gun. 

When you made it to the bottom of the stairs on shaking legs, the sight before you utterly shocked you. 

… 

JJ didn’t think anything of it when her phone rang. 

The team was currently split up - Prentiss was at the end of your block, sitting in an unmarked car with one of the local police officers, looking out for anything suspicious as they watched over your house. And the rest of the team was following up on something - a few hours after the UnSub had sent the letter containing pictures of you, and the pictures of JJ and Reid at your doorstep, he had sent another letter. 

It was a set of photographs of a woman dead on her kitchen floor - a completely different woman, murdered, with the white carnations in a halo around her head, clearly killed by him. On the back of one of the photos it said ‘you lose’. 

The team panicked, thinking that he had picked another target because there had been too much police attention on you, but when they found out who the woman was, they realized that she had been murdered months ago - she was one of his first. It had just been another distraction to keep their attention off you. 

“Reid, hey-” JJ greeted, thinking that it was just Spencer calling to check in. 

“Hello?” 

She was shocked to hear a small, young voice on the other end. 

“Hey there.” She called back gently, instantly switching into ‘mom mode’. It took her only a moment to put it together - whose voice it was. “You must be Sebastian.” 

“My name is Sebastian.” He confirmed. “Are you Mommy’s friend JJ?” 

“Yes, I’m JJ.” She said. “Did you take Daddy’s phone?” 

She didn’t even consider it a slip-up - she didn’t think for a second that you and Spencer hadn’t yet told him that Spencer was his father. 

She thought that Sebastian had taken Spencer’s phone and was pressing buttons out of curiosity, and had simply dialed the last number that was in the call history by accident. 

“Mommy gave me the phone.” Sebastian told her. “She said to call for help. There’s a bad man in the house.” 

JJ’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Her throat clenched up, and all at once, she felt an intense urgency. 

“Oh, okay.” She said, trying not to sound too panicked - trying not to alert Sebastian to her feelings, knowing she had to keep him calm. “Where are you, buddy?” 

She walked swiftly toward the conference room, knowing that she had to get Hotch to call Prentiss. She had no clue how the UnSub got into the house past Prentiss’s watchful eyes, but they had to get in there and help - now. 

“I’m hiding in the closet.” Sebastian told her. “Mommy told me too.” 

“That’s good.” JJ replied. “You stay there. I’m sending my friends to help you. My friend Emily is gonna come and get you, okay?” 

JJ waved Hotch down and he came to stand in front of her. 

She clasped her hand over the end of her phone before she spoke to him in a low, urgent voice. 

“I’ve got Y/N’s kid on the phone, he says that the UnSub is in the house. Get Prentiss in there now.” She told him. 

Hotch nodded and ran off to grab a landline off the hook in order to call them. 

“Is Mommy gonna get hurt?” He asked softly, clearly afraid of this possibility. 

JJ’s throat clenched tighter. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” She said, making a promise that she hoped she could keep. “I’ll stay on the phone with you until my friends get there, okay?” 

“I’m scared.” Sebastian whimpered. 

“She’s not picking up.” Hotch told JJ. “We’ve gotta go.” 

… 

About ten feet down from your house, in a perfect spot to view the front door, Prentiss and the local officer - a man named Bleu - were parked in an inconspicuous, FBI owned vehicle. One of the back windows was broken, and in the backseat was a canister letting out a dangerous vapor - one that knocked them both unconscious within seconds (an item that was typically used for military purposes). 

An annoying, digital chirping rang through the car as both of their phones chimed off, going unanswered as chaos continued inside the house. 

… 

You were shocked to see Spencer in the middle of the floor, straddling the unknown man - beating him to death. 

Spencer looked crazed, blood dripping down his face from his nose, a look of pure, homicidal rage in his eyes as he held the man by the front of his shirt, lifting his fist and committing blow after blow to his now very mangled face. There was a large gash on Spencer’s forearm from the fight, and the kitchen knife had been flung across the floor, but now, it seemed that the man was entirely defenseless as Spencer laid into him out of pure spite. 

The man was laying in a pool of his own blood, dripping from some wound you couldn’t see through the darkness - Spencer had done quite a number on him, and while you knew that you should have felt scared, all you felt was a flare of pride at his protectiveness and that lust from before dangerously creeping back in. 

“You think that you can just come into this house? Come into his house where my son and my wife sleep?” Spencer screamed, using the front of the man’s shirt to lift him up limply to scream even closer to his face. “Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences?” 

My wife. 

He was taking ownership over you, protecting you. 

Because that emotional dam had just burst, and he was still so fragile, all of that love he had felt for you was molding into rage, and hatred toward this man. 

How dare he try to hurt you. 

He tossed another punch, and the man laughed. 

He was so badly beaten - you didn’t think that he was still conscious, let alone capable of speech. 

“You - you feel like a man, yet?” The man mocked him. “You keep-” He choked, sputtering on his own blood. “You keep playin’ at it, Daddy. Maybe one day you’ll be what she n-needs.” 

“He doesn’t have to play.” You said, cocking the gun and raising it toward the man. “He’s more of a man and a better father than you could ever be.” 

Spencer raised his hand to deliver another hit, and you spoke up again. 

“Spencer.” You said his name firmly, causing his muscles to freeze up. “It’s time to cuff him now. Your son is upstairs waiting for you.” 

You knew it was a choice for him. He could have easily let those darker instincts get a hold of him again - he could have given in to the urge to beat the man to death simply for thinking of hurting you. 

But you didn’t want that. Not because you thought the man deserved to live, but because you didn’t want a murderer for a future husband. 

Spencer stood up, walking over to you. 

“I have zip ties in my bag.” He told you, motioning over toward it. 

He took the gun from you, and when the man made a sluggish, concussed move for the knife, Spencer kicked him hard in the gut. 

“Don’t move!” He screamed. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this.” 

He let out another harsh, breathless laugh. 

“You - you let the bitch rule your life.” He continued to mock Spencer. “Talk about spineless and dickless, and-” 

Spencer kicked him again. 

You handed Spencer the zip ties and took back the gun, keeping it trained on the man as Spencer secured him. 

“I can assure you that he’s definitely not dickless.” You felt the need to add on. 

Spencer rolled his eyes at this, but you caught him suppressing a grin. 

You jumped when you heard a loud bang - someone knocking on the front door. 

“FBI! We have you surrounded!” A man’s voice, someone you didn’t recognize, screamed out. 

Spencer was quick to respond, his knee digging into the man’s back as he tightened the zip ties. 

“Hotch, we’ve got him down!” Spencer yelled back, apparently knowing the man’s name. “You don’t have to charge in, Y/N is gonna open the door!” 

Spencer nodded toward you, and you lowered the gun, still shaking as you moved to unlock the door. You opened it to find a stern faced man holding a gun, but the moment that he saw you - tear streaked, shaking, your clothes ruffled and your general appearance shaken - his expression instantly softened and he lowered his gun down to his side. 

“Miss, are you alright?” He asked, stepping in, looking around before he gave you a quick up-and-down glance, clearly inspecting you for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” You quickly blurted out. “Spencer’s in there.” You motioned back into the living room and then several people flooded into the house, and when you saw JJ again, you let out a sob of relief, and upon instinct, she pulled you into a tight hug. 

You clutched onto her tightly and she hugged you right back. 

After a moment, a bit too soon for you considering how shaken up you were feeling, she pulled away and held you by the shoulders. 

“Where’s Sebastian?” She asked you urgently. 

You grabbed her hand and turned to race up the stairs - while behind you, Spencer and Morgan hoisted the man off the ground and walked him outside to the squad car waiting to take him into holding - though he would likely need some medical attention along the way. While Hotch directed everyone around the house - the CSI team needed to collect evidence, making sure the scene was secure. And Rossi was outside making sure that Emily got into the ambulance okay as she drifted in and out of consciousness. 

“This isn’t over!” 

Naturally, the man was still in the mood to taunt. 

“One of these days, when-” 

“Shut it, scumbag.” Morgan ordered, shoving the man forward. “You lost. Get over it.” 

Spencer put his hand on the man’s head to ease him into the squad car, and then when he leaned in to fasten the seatbelt, he couldn’t hold back. 

“See, the most wonderful part of all this is,” He whispered lowly to the man. “Tonight, when I’m in bed with my beautiful wife,” He pressed. “When I’m balls deep inside of her perfect pussy - I’m not gonna be thinking of you. Not even for a second.” 

The man had a stern, sour scowl on his face. Spencer had truly won. 

He rose up and slammed the door, giving a knock on the hood of the car to let the driver know to take the man away. 

“Holy shit, pretty boy, what happened to your arm?” Morgan asked, letting out a low whistle of shock as he reached for Spencer’s wrist to further inspect the injury. 

“Knife.” Spencer mumbled, quickly snatching his arm back. 

He didn’t need to be herded into an ambulance right now - he needed to check on his son. 

Spencer quickly moved back toward the house, and Morgan naturally followed him. 

“A knife?!” He replied, clearly shocked. “You were stabbed?!” 

“I wasn’t stabbed.” Spencer spoke the words in a jolt over his shoulder, still charging forward, up the stairs. “It was more of a slash. It’s just a cut. It’s minor.” 

“‘It’s just a cut. It’s minor.’” Morgan repeated, mocking Spencer in a childish, whiny voice as he followed him up the stairs. “The man becomes a father and thinks he’s the Terminator all of a sudden.” 

Spencer passed Sebastian’s bedroom and glanced in, and didn’t see anyone - he heard a commotion of voice coming from the bedroom and rushed toward the sounds. 

He was surprised to see you and JJ standing on either side of a very large bookshelf, struggling to move it. The sight immediately confused him. 

“How the hell did you move this thing by yourself?” JJ grunted out, trying to push it backward with her whole body while you pulled on it. 

“What are you guys doing?” Spencer asked. 

“Sebastian is behind here.” You informed them, breathless from the effort of trying to move it without the hellish adrenaline rush pumping through you. “I moved it to hide him, in case-” You unintentionally huffed out another sob just thinking about what could have happened. 

Spencer rushed to pull you into his arms, and you collapsed against his hold. 

Somewhere muffled behind the thickness of the bookcase, there came: 

“Mommy, get me out of here!” 

You sobbed harder, thinking you had made a mistake, and JJ spoke up. 

“We’re coming, buddy! It’s okay!” 

“It’s just a bookcase.” Morgan chuckled. 

He stepped forward, expecting that he would be able to move it with ease. 

JJ stepped out of his way and Morgan put his shoulder against the side of the bookshelf, giving a shove. When it didn’t move after a moment, a look of intense shock fell over his face, and he looked at you in awe. 

“You moved this thing all by yourself?” Morgan gaped at you. “Damn, woman!” 

“Women have been known to lift cars off their children in life-threatening situations.” Spencer remarked, moving toward the bookcase and grabbing some of the books off it. “We have to take the books off.” He said to Morgan, incredibly snarky. 

“Take the books off.” JJ sighed. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

Being stupid from urgency - is what you wanted to say. 

But instead, you helped them unload the bookcase and place the books onto your bed, and when it was nearly empty, Spencer and Morgan managed to push it out of the way with ease. 

You rushed to open the closet door and Sebastian rushed out to see you as you fell to your knees, crumbling in front of him as the worry and anxiety and adrenaline crashed, causing your whole body to become weak and tired in an instant. 

“Mommy!” 

You held him tight in your arms as you sobbed and Spencer looked on with warmth in his heart and sadness in his eyes, feeling like he didn’t deserve to intrude on the moment. 

“Get over there, man.” Morgan told him quietly, giving him a nudge. “But when you come downstairs, you’re gettin’ your ass in that ambulance.” 

Spencer felt a tired weakness growing within him, and he couldn’t help but to walk forward and settle onto his knees beside you and Sebastian, huddled together in a tight hug, clutching onto each other. He put a protective hand on each of you, and leaned in, giving you a kiss on the forehead - and he couldn’t resist the urge to plant a gentle kiss on the top of Sebastian’s head as well. 

You managed to pry a shaking hand off of Sebastian, who still cuddled into your chest, and turn to Spencer, putting that hand on his shoulder - you leaned in then and kissed him on the mouth - sweet, gentle, loving. 

“Thank you.” You told, nearly breathless from tears. “You saved us. You protected us. I-” 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Spencer told me. “You know that I would do anything for both of you.” He declared, his voice beginning to shake as the emotions of it all truly hit him. 

“You got a boo-boo,” Sebastian said, his voice tired as he motioned to the blood still dripping from Spencer’s nose. 

The boy had finally unburied himself from your chest to look at Spencer, and clearly took great concern in the fact that he was hurt. 

“Oh, I’m okay, bud.” Spencer insisted, reaching up to wipe it. 

“Oh my god, Spencer, your arm!” You gasped - with Sebastian bringing attention to his injuries, you finally realized the full extent. His nose was bruising from being hit by the door, he had several scratches and bruises in other places, his knuckles were horribly bruises and bloodied from punching that man so many times, and most distractingly, there was a large gash on his arm - looking like a cut from a knife. “Spence, you have to get that checked out.” 

“I will.” He assured you. He couldn’t say no to you. 

He sighed and got up - knowing that he couldn’t delay his trip to the ambulance for too much longer. 

“Did you get the bad man?” Sebastian asked, looking up at Spencer with large, expectant eyes. 

“He did.” You assured him with a kiss on the forehead. “He got the bad man. He made sure that nobody was gonna hurt us.” 

With this realization, Sebastian tore out of your arms and ran toward Spencer, and Spencer instinctively leaned down again, picking him up to pull him into a hug. He feared getting blood on him - but that thought passed as soon as he felt the comfort of having his son tight in his arms. 

“You should stay forever.” Sebastian told him, intentionally quieter so that you might not hear. “No bad man could get us if you’re here.” 

Spencer felt a large lump rise up in his throat. 

“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. Ever.” He told him, giving him another tight squeeze before he put him down. “Go with your mom. I have to go get my… my boo-boo checked. Okay?” 

Sebastian nodded and ran back to you, and Spencer went to leave, before pausing. 

“You should probably get some things together. I doubt that you’re gonna be able to stay here tonight, and the CSI teams are gonna be coming in and out. They’ll probably pay for you to have a hotel room.” He informed you. 

“Will you stay with us?” You asked, your throat edging with anxiety once again. “Spence - I - I can’t sleep alone.” 

There was no way he could deny you. 

“Of course.” 

… 

Spencer went to the hospital, and you were taken to the police station for questioning. Not that you had done anything wrong, of course - the team just thought that you could fill in a few more details for them while Spencer (forcefully) got checked out. (And of course, he rushed to check up on Emily the minute that the doctors were done with him.) 

After running the suspect’s fingerprints, they were able to show you a mugshot, and you let out a horrified sob as you finally identified him. 

He was your neighbor. A man who had been living across the street from you for the last two months, at least. He had helped you carry in groceries before - he had seemed so friendly. You hadn’t recognized him laying on your living room floor in the dark, beaten and bloodied. But it was most definitely him. 

After a thorough search of your house and the house across from yours - one he had apparently been subletting from a retired couple who were off traveling, seeing the world during their golden years - crime scene techs turned up several important things. 

More than a dozen bugs. Microphones that he had planted everywhere in your home - apparently, he had broken in some time when you had been gone, and planted microphones in your house plants, your cupboards, your bedroom, and Sebastian’s bedroom. Which would explain the large notebook he had, detailing every single conversation that you and Spencer had since the moment that he had arrived - explaining all of the information that he knew about you and Spencer. There was also a large telescope, set up, pointed directly at your house. And a camera - and a large wall with far more pictures of you. 

There were also five other notebooks, and a scrapbook with photographs of his other victims. The back page of each of those books detailed where their orphaned children were, how they were doing since he had killed their mothers. 

Just as you were peaking in anxiety, Spencer returned from the hospital and stopped the interrogation. It was time for you and Sebastian to get some rest - some real rest. 

Spencer needed eleven stitches, and a splint for his nose. All in all - he had a concussion, severely fucked up knuckles, and two bruised ribs. 

That didn’t stop him from carrying his son to bed after he had fallen asleep in the back of one of the bureau’s SUVs. 

…

Spencer helped you into your hotel room, with you carrying the small overnight bags that you had packed for you and Sebastian and Spencer carrying Sebastian in his arms as he slept. Even with Spencer bruised and slightly battered, it was a peaceful, welcome sight. It looked like something that should have happened a thousand times before - the boy fit perfectly into his arms, that head of curls resting perfectly under his chin while Spencer supported him with an arm under his bum, and walked over to the nightstand, using his free hand to turn on the gentle yellow light of a lamp while you put down the bags and closed and locked the door behind you. 

Spencer began clumsily peeling back the covers with one hand and you rushed over to help him - rearranging the pillows and peeling back the covers so that he could place Sebastian gently in the bed. Once he did, you grabbed a blanket that belonged to him that you had brought from home and put that on him before Spencer pulled up the covers, and you handed him the plush toy that Spencer had bought him to put beside him. 

He stirred slightly, but for the most part - he was so exhausted that he didn’t move or wake up. 

Spencer took a moment to watch him and you didn’t disrupt. 

You knew this was a moment you had missed - many parents watched over their newborn sleeping in the crib days after bringing them home from the hospital, and this was that moment for the both of you now. 

After a prolonged silence, Spencer cleared his throat and stepped away - you expected him to go toward the bathroom to freshen up before bed or something like that, but instead: 

“This door goes to my room.” He said, keeping his voice quiet so as to not wake Sebastian, motioning to a door that you were just now realizing was there - clearly adjoining the rooms for people who knew each other but didn’t want to sleep in the same room. And it had a lock on it for the sake of privacy. “Just knock if you need anything.” 

This made your insides crash with disappointment. You thought that you had made yourself pretty clear when you said - ‘I can’t sleep alone’. 

You and Spencer were supposed to be sleeping in the same bed. He was supposed to stay right there with you; even if that man who had intended to kill you was in police custody, you still had that feeling of anxiety looming over you. You still needed Spencer nearby to make you feel safe. A giant wall separating the two of you just wasn’t going to do that. 

“Separate rooms?” You squeaked out. 

“Yeah.” He replied. “I thought it would make you feel more comfortable.” 

More comfortable. 

Against your better instincts, you nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

Spencer gave you a smile, and then, his body stuttering awkwardly, he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said quietly. 

“Goodnight, Spence.” 

He moved across the room and unlocked the door and moved into his own room, and when he closed it behind him, you heard the click of the lock on the other side - him putting up a very clear barrier between the two of you. 

Somehow, after everything the two of you had talked about - he still didn’t get it. 

You glanced at Sebastian, who was in a deep sleep, and then looked over at the door. 

You knew that he would be fine on his own for a little while. He would likely sleep well for the next few hours, and if he woke up and yelled out for you, you would hear him. So you walked up to the door, and after hesitating for a fraction for a second - you knocked. 

… 

Spencer answered the door. 

“Can I come in?” 

Naturally, he looked past you to Sebastian’s sleeping body. 

“He’ll be fine on his own for a little while.” You told him, already knowing what he was thinking. “I just wanted to talk. Ya know - grown-up time.” 

Secretly, deep down, you were hoping for the double entendre to actually pay off this time. 

“Just a few minutes.” Spencer replied. “Then you need to get some rest.” 

You wanted to scoff at this. But you knew that it was out of caring. 

“How’s the arm doing?” You asked as Spencer gently closed the door behind you. 

“Ten stitches, no big deal.” He replied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“No big deal?” You scoffed. “I remember a time when you used to freak out and cry over a paper cut, Spence.” You giggled gently. “You used to make me kiss it and put a band-aid on it for you.” 

Mentally, you were brought back to the nights when you and Spencer would have ‘reading dates’. You would each bring a book for the other person, something you thought the other person would like or something you were excited for them to read, and then you would sit curled up under a large blanket on Spencer’s couch, both reading in tandem, only breaking the peaceful silence to discuss a particular interesting passage or to compliment the other person’s choice in some way. 

This was a time when something like a paper cut was the most dangerous threat to your lives. 

Oh, how times change. 

“Maybe it was just an excuse to get a kiss from you.” Spencer said, all cheek - he looked at you through his lashes as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, having already shed his tie and his top buttons - and the full power of those schoolgirl butterflies would have been ignited by this look, if not for- 

“Your knuckles.” You gasped, suddenly spotting the bright red abrasions, the obnoxious bruising that was starting to form on his dominant hand. 

“Oh, ah - I’m fine.” Spencer lied, moving the hand in front of his own eyes to look, suddenly realizing how bad it was for himself. 

Upon instinct, you stepped forward, and took his hand into the gentle grasp of your own. Without a word, operating entirely on the ghost of your own need - you lifted that hand up to your lips, and kissed across this knuckles, feather-light - a silent ‘thank you’ for all he had done for you. A moment of gratitude for his service in defeating the monster who had entered your home. 

When you caught his eye again, you saw nothing but pure lust swimming there. 

He pulled you into his lap, and the kiss - it was nothing but pure, burning fire. 

… 

Spencer kissed along your stomach, from one hip to the other - he stopped along the way to draw gentle, appreciative licks along the stretch marks. 

“No cesarean scar.” He noted, mumbling against your skin. 

“I had him naturally.” You noted. “So… things might be a bit of a mess down there.” You chuckled awkwardly, still feeling self conscious. 

It was one of the reasons you hadn’t brought anyone into your bed since the break-up with Spencer. You had been self conscious of your postpartum body. You had heard horror stories from other mothers that you interacted with at daycare or the park (especially the married ones) about how their husbands just didn’t see them the same way after giving birth, about how all the romance and sex fizzled out after they had their child, and how any other children in the marriage were thanks to porn or toys ‘getting their husbands going’. 

You really didn’t need to bring a man into your bed just to laugh at you. Inviting someone into an intimate moment just to have them mock you - that would have broken you. You couldn’t risk a relapse of your eating disorder because of it - not when Sebastian needed you strong and healthy. 

“Hmm, no.” Spencer said, fully confident. 

He pulled away slightly, taking a glance down at your glistening cunt, and for good measure, his inquiring eyes making you feel naked as he inspected you, giving you the urge to close your legs - he ran his fingers along the needy, slightly swollen lips of your pussy as you puffed up with blood in anticipation of him, and he dipped his fingertips inside, making you moan. 

“Your pussy is still fucking perfect.” He told you. “Just how I left it. You can’t even tell I put a baby in here.” 

He wanted to add on: ‘Seems like I should change that.’ - But he didn’t want to push his luck. 

That got you - and your legs involuntarily flinched, your thighs closing around his hand, causing him to give a cocky smirk. 

“How long were you in labor for?” He asked, suddenly curious. 

You found it to be a bit of an odd question to ask, especially while his fingers - two of them - ventured deeper into your wet hole. 

But you indulged him nonetheless. 

“Sixteen hours.” You told him. “No pain medication.” 

You had been more afraid of the needle for the epidural than facing the pain. (You probably would have been brave enough to get it with Spencer there holding your hand, but… oh well.) 

Later on, Spencer would get you to recount every moment of the pregnancy, and the labor of the delivery to him in detail. As much of it as you could remember - because he couldn’t be there for it, and he wanted as much of it as possible in mind. And again, you would indulge him - because you thought that he deserved to take in as much of what he had missed as possible. 

“Fuck.” He sighed, in awe of you. He ran his free hand up your body, over your stomach, the place where his son had once grown and taken nourishment from your body as he developed, appreciating every inch of you as he moved to grab your breast. “You are a fucking warrior, aren’t you?” 

The pure passion behind his words in that moment made you even wetter. 

Spencer expelled every single one of your insecurities - he didn’t find you less attractive because your body wasn’t like it used to be. He found you even more grand and alluring. He found you more impressive, more beautiful than ever. 

… 

Not much later, Spencer’s cock was deep inside of you. 

Neither of you had even thought of a condom - you couldn’t have been expecting this interaction, not for a moment, so neither of you had one in waiting. You had been off your birth control for months - you weren’t dating, and you found that the side effects weren’t agreeing with you, so you simply stopped taking the pill. 

So as Spencer’s hips clashed against your inner thighs while you laid on your back in the middle of that hotel bed, both of you could only think of one beautifully selfish thing. 

“Please, please, please!” You chanted, not daring to speak it aloud, but begging him for it, hoping that he would get the message from such few words. 

He drove his cock into you with an even deeper urgency, whining deep in his chest as your perfect cunt dripping around him in hot waves, and whether it was your body writing him love letters or your mouth delivering him that sacred message in code, there was only one possible thought thumping between his ears. 

“Let - let me,” He choked out brokenly. “Let me give you another one.” He grunted out, tonguing along your breast, feeling so beautifully bathed in the heat coming off your body. “Please! Oh, please let me put another baby in you!” 

How could this not be the perfect victory? 

“Yes!” You gasped out, locking your legs behind his back, causing a straining pain against your ribs where you had landed so hard on the stairs - but not daring to let him go, not letting him pull out. Not letting him have second thoughts. “Please! Oh god, yes!” 

That was all Spencer needed. 

He choked a groan into your chest and a moment later he was cumming deep inside of you - flooding the both of you with epic satisfaction, and the underlying comfort that you would be tied together forever. The comfort that no one was leaving this time. 

…

You only rested for a moment after Spencer pulled out of you. Then, you were reaching for your clothes, knowing that Sebastian was in the other room - and he couldn’t wake up alone. 

After you pulled on your shirt, you reached behind you and slapped Spencer’s bare thigh, making him jump slightly. 

“Get some PJs.” You told him. “I told you, I’m not sleeping alone.” 

Spencer grinned to himself. 

He couldn’t help but to lay back and watch your bareness in the low light as you got up off the bed, searching for your underwear. He would get up in a minute. The soreness was truly setting into his body now - he needed a minute to truly motivate himself into getting up. 

“I do have to ask,” He said, his voice low. “Why Sebastian?” 

You chuckled at this. 

“Please tell me it’s not because of that lobster from that movie you liked as a kid,” He added on. 

“Okay, if you’re talking about The Little Mermaid, he’s a crab.” You replied, slightly snarky, glancing over your shoulder at him as you stepped into your underwear. “And no, that’s just a coincidence. Sebastian’s name comes from… our first date.” You corrected him. “I kept thinking about the music… the way you looked at me. And I didn’t want my son to be named Johann - it didn’t seem to suit him.” 

Spencer imagined you sitting in the hospital, staring at the wrinkly newborn, wondering what his name would be with Joy of Man’s Desiring running through your mind.  

…

Spencer spent a peaceful night with his son. 

When Emily was released from the hospital, the team packed up to go home on the jet, and Spencer got clearance for you and Sebastian to go with them - you couldn’t stay in the home that was still technically a crime scene, and you would rather stay in Spencer’s cramped apartment for a few weeks while everything was being sorted out than be apart again. 

During that jet ride, Morgan called Spencer ‘Daddy’, as a joke - and when you looked at Sebastian wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights, he lit up like a Christmas tree and then loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen (which turned out to be everyone on the flight, someone who happened to be in the hangar, Penelope - who had rushed to meet Sebastian, the cab driver on the ride home, and the take out delivery person later that night) - that he was going to sleepover at his Daddy’s house. And he was very excited about it. 

It was a tentative start - but you were a family now. 

… 

SIX MONTHS LATER

Spencer was still adjusting to his ‘new life’ - in the best way possible. 

On the days he could, he took his paperwork home with him, and tore out of the office at the speed of sound, rushing to get home to you and his son as fast as he could - eager to spend as much time with the both of you as possible. On this particular day, he was able to shove a handful of files into his bag to be attended to after you and Sebastian were asleep, rushing out in time to pick up Sebastian from his new babysitter. 

Sebastian went to the babysitter four days a week, giving you time to relax and attend to your work, and three days a week he had a tutor who came to the house to work with him independently. Other days, Spencer would work with him to teach him subjects that he was interested in - they would plan special outings to invest more time into learning the subjects that he wanted to know. They spent a lot of time at the natural history museum - some of the employees there were starting to know them by name (especially people who worked at the dinosaur exhibits). 

When Spencer arrived at the babysitter’s house, Sebastian and the babysitter, Alex, were waiting for him eagerly by the fence while the other two children who had yet to be picked up played in the fenced-off front yard. Having Sebastian run into his arms and hug him so tightly when he knelt down to receive that hug - it was still by far, one of the best parts of his day. It felt like something that awakened his soul - something that gave him more energy than coffee ever could. 

“Daddy!” 

“Hey, buddy.” Spencer grinned. “How are you doing? What did you do today?” 

“Today we made crafts and we played Simon Says - who is Simon anyway? Is that game named after Simon Barere? Did he get a game after him because he played the piano so good? Oh and-” 

“Hey, hey, take a breath.” Spencer chuckled, amused by how fast Sebastian was speaking - so excited to tell Spencer about everything he had done that his words were fusing into one long syllable. 

“I missed you.” Sebastian smiled. 

Spencer gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you too.” 

Spencer raised to his full height and took Sebastian’s backpack from Alex, who then drew his attention to a piece of large white craft paper - seemingly the art activity from the day. 

“He drew this,” Alex’s expression was half-amused, half-concerned. 

Spencer quickly knew why. “Oh… well. I’ll show his mother.” He chuckled. 

Spencer packed Sebastian into the car, buckling him into his carseat, and with Seb shouting at him through the rearview mirror, he got the full rundown of the day on their drive home. He was content and gleeful by the time his key was turning the lock to the front door - Sebastian running in through the gap when he barely had the door open with his hands full, screaming at the top of his lungs, looking for you. 

“Mommy! Mommy?! We’re home!” 

“I’m in here, Seb!” 

You were calling from a room near the back of the house - what would be your and Spencer’s shared office. A room that was still packed full of boxes - deemed unimportant and low priority to unpack from the move. 

“What are you doing?” Spencer hollered back, kicking the front door closed and dropping everything on a side table near the front door - temporarily forgetting about the picture that Sebastian had drawn in favor of seeking you out. 

He was displeased to find you among the sea of boxes, your arms full with a heavy one as you heaved it aside. 

“I, just - I was looking for something.” You grunted out. 

Sebastian was already diving into one of the open boxes behind you - seemingly looking for something to interest him among the sea of books that you and Spencer had combined there. 

Spencer rushed to take the box from you, not faring much better with it himself (Morgan had helped him move most of these - filled with books, into the room in the first place) - but he heaved it onto the top of another pile and then quickly moved to cradle a hand across your stomach, a bitterly protective mood coming over him. 

You were four months along in your pregnancy, and Spencer was already of the belief that the growing resident in your stomach meant you had to be coddled to the utmost degree. 

“Come on, you shouldn’t be lifting anything.” He chastised you sharply. 

“I’m fine,” You replied. “When I was pregnant with Seb I did yoga and spin classes right up until I gave birth. This is nothing.” 

“Yeah, but that’s exercise. You don’t need to strain yourself lifting heavy boxes, you-” 

Spencer’s words were cut off when Sebastian spoke up, opening up a new line of conversation. 

“Can I have this?” He asked brightly. 

You turned to see him holding up a very thick book. You grabbed it from him gently, wanting to make sure it wasn’t one of Spencer’s books about murder cases or true crime - The American Guide to Constellations. You gave a soft smile. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You said, giving it back to him. 

He cheered excitedly and ran off with the book, likely taking it to the large arm chair in the living room to read. 

You reached out, going to grab another box to move it - and Spencer put his arm on top of the box, shoving it down. 

“Excuse me,” You said sharply, glaring at him. 

“What is so important?” He asked. 

“I’ll tell you when I find it.” You replied. 

He locked his jaw and stared you down, clearly waiting for a real answer. 

“Look… those crime scene techs were tearing up my place, and… the move was so sudden… I just wanna make sure I didn’t lose it. And if I did lose it, I don’t wanna disappoint you.” 

“Why would you disappoint me?” He asked. 

“Just help me move this box.” You grunted back. 

Spencer sighed, as usual - acquiescing to your wishes. 

He struggled with the box you had motioned to, and while he found a place to put it, you opened up the box underneath it and sighed with relief when you pulled out a familiar looking shoebox - you struggled past a few objects inside. Old movie tickets, tickets stubs from the orchestra that you had kept, and Spencer looked over your shoulder with careful eyes for a moment, realization coming into his mind. 

It was a time capsule of your relationship. Love letters he had written to you and left in books he had borrowed from you, a bowtie he had worn on a date and forgotten at your place after a particularly epic romp, a picture that he had drawn for you on a napkin while waiting for your food to arrive at a restaurant. And then - 

“I really need to get this framed.” You noted, taking the certificate for the star he had gotten you out of the bottom of the box. 

He felt it surge through him, just as fresh as he had felt it that night - that epic passion, that love for you, threatening to swallow him whole. Except now, he had it all. He had the house, the family he had been planning that whole time. 

His life truly felt complete. 

He couldn’t help it when he reached out and gently grasped your chin, pulling you in for a kiss, which you eagerly returned. 

“Mommy, I made you a picture!” Sebastian called out, appearing in the doorway now, brandishing the drawing he had made - a lucky reminder of what Spencer had intended to show you. 

You place down the certificate in the shoebox, hopefully to remember to bring it to some place to get it framed later - and you bent down at the waist to see what Sebastian had as crossed the room toward you. 

“Oh, let me have a look.” You said, smiling at him. 

As you took the picture, your face got that same expression - partly amused, partly confused as you took in the bizarre photo. Spencer watched over your shoulder, looking at the picture again. 

It was an almost typical child-like drawing. Very colorful, crayons - a view of the new house, with stick figures labeled ‘Daddy, Me, and Mommy’ - except the one depicting you had a very round stomach, a long line clearly meant to be an umbilical cord spiraling out to a very alien-like realistic fetus that was labeled ‘Baby’. The two of you had been showing Sebastian baby-rearing books to get him mentally prepared for having a sibling, because you knew that he was smart enough to know and understand the (age appropriate) basics of pregnancy, and he understood eagerly that the baby in your belly would eventually be his new sibling. 

And apparently - that translated to drawing it. 

“Oh wow.” You said, trying to hide your shock at your son’s very intelligent, bizarre drawing. “Very beautiful.” 

“I hope the baby likes my picture.” Sebastian said, smiling up at you. 

“I’m sure the baby will love all your pictures.” You told him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. 

“You’re gonna be a great big brother,” Spencer told him. “And good big brothers wash their hands so they can help with dinner,” 

Sebastian nodded at this, and ran off toward the bathroom - clearly wanting to comply with this task. 

“Maybe I should get this one framed too.” You chuckled as you stood up to your full height. 

Spencer let out a laugh too. “I think it’s good. It shows he has a good comprehension of everything we’ve been telling him. And he’s excited to have a sibling. He doesn’t have any underlying jealousy, or-” 

You were hit with a sudden wave of nausea. “Do you think he’s in the downstairs bathroom?” 

You didn’t wait for an answer before you rushed out of the room. Spencer placed the star certificate in with his files, reminding himself to have it framed for you after work the next day, and then he went to the kitchen to wash up and start dinner. Soon, Sebastian joined him, eager to help wash vegetables and help stir pots while you were otherwise occupied. 

Even though you currently had your head in a toilet - things in life were definitely looking up. 

THE END

...

A/N: I want everyone to know that I have been feeling incredibly conflicted about this story. The original 'production' (so to speak) of this fic was disrupted by something in my personal life that left me feeling really emotional distraught, so the ending was kind of fucked from the start.

If you know me well or if you've been following me for a long time, you know that most of my multichapter fics are fics that were intended to be oneshots. Those fics are usually written within a one month period and then they are edited and posted the next month, so that way I don't lose momentum on a fic. If I don't do it that way, then I end up losing interest in a fic or getting Stage Fright and getting protective over a story when people actually see it. And if I get Stage Fright, it makes me want to just stop writing a story or delete it, even if people are enjoying reading it - I get very self conscious of a story I once enjoyed and was once really passionate about.

This fic was intended to be written within one month, but because that was disrupted, the ending was left unfinished. I kept convincing myself that I was going to do the full ending that I had plotted out - but when the more pivotal parts of the story began to unfold, I got Stage Fright, and I became far too protective of this story. Between several comments I have gotten (not just from one person); comments that have scared me back into my creative shell with this story in particular. And me believing that what happens in this particular chapter is not going to go over well because it's not a very cathartic, satisfying climax (it's meant to be an emotionally healing moment for the characters, not a cheering section moment for the audience) - and my own mental hang-ups, the original ending I had planned just will not come to fruition. And that ending did involve showing off more of Spencer's personal relationships, and a lot more fan service - like Sebastian meeting other members of the team for the first time. So anyway - have this shitty, rushed ending, because I just need this story off my plate, because it's not fun for me anymore!!!

Anyway - comment and reblog if you want, but I totally understand if this is not worthy of that lmao. I do not regard this as one of my better stories, not by far. (This would have been better off as a 20k oneshot, easily forgotten and finished in a few days.)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid

[talaok]

A new lesson

Pairing: step-dad!Joel miller x step-daughter!reader

Summary: Your step-dad generously offers to give you another lesson. (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| oral sex ( m receiving), face-fucking, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don’t like what you see.

a/n: @thesummerpetrichor I believe we had an agreement…

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

He'd been obsessively looking at those photos he'd taken of you yesterday every time he could.

It didn't matter if he was at work, or if his wife was right next to him, he needed to take a look at that pretty pussy of yours or he felt like he was gonna go crazy.

He'd always known that once he got a taste of it, it would never be enough, and yesterday just proved him right.

He was so lost in the picture on his screen that your mom's voice startled him.

"what have you been doing on there for 20 minutes?"

Shit

"nothing" he shrugged, quickly switching apps "Just work stuff"

"you sure?" she raised a brow, smiling "There's not another woman I should be worried about?" she joked

Only your daughter

"never" he forced a grin, leaning closer to her on the couch to kiss her.

"good" she nodded, patting his thigh "I'll go shower more serenely then"

He watched as she stood from the couch, and waited until he heard the water running before he quickly made his way to the only place he'd been wanting to go since he came home: your room.

His dick was already hard, so what better time for another lesson?

"Oh, hi daddy" you smiled at him as he closed the door behind him, noticing how he locked it.

You were sitting on your pink bed, resting your back against the headboard while you read a book. A big t-shirt draped over your body and some soft pajama shorts underneath it.

"hi sweetheart" he smirked

"do you need something?"

"no baby, but it's time for another lesson"

He watched you frown in confusion

"but mom's home... and you said you couldn't help me when mom was home"

"I know what I said" he nodded annoyed at your sudden need to ask questions "but I was feeling generous and I wanted to help you now." he explained "If you don't want my help anymore you can just say s-"

And just as he'd predicted, you interrupted him before he could even finish that sentence.

"No, of course I want your help daddy"

"good" he nodded "then come here"

You obliged immediately, setting your book to the side on the bed and standing up to walk over to him.

"take off your shirt" he said once you were right before him.

You did as told, observing his eyes fall to your naked tits, just for his hands to reach them, feeling them as his thumbs played with your perked nipples.

"you've got pretty tits sweetheart"

"t-thank you" you blushed, your eyes falling to where he was touching you.

"Today is gonna be different from last time" he explained softly 

"ok" you murmured

Oh how he loved how small your voice got every time

"get on your knees"

Once again, you obeyed.

He looked even bigger from down there, and you felt even smaller.

"now undo my belt and lower my pants"

You swallowed nervously, looking up at him

"go on" he urged

So you did. You took care of his belt, then of his zipper, and then as he said, you lowered his jeans, and they fell, pooling at his feet.

What was now in front of you, was the perfectly clear shape of his dick, hidden only by a pair of thin black boxers.

"take them off"

your fingers seeped through the waistband, and slowly, you took them off for him.

You still hadn't gotten used to it. He was just so big,

how did all of that even fit inside of me?

no wonder I'm sore.

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him with those innocent eyes of yours.

"spit on your hand, and then just like last time, wrap it around my cock"

You hesitated a moment, before bringing your hand to your lips and summoning some spit from your dry mouth.

You were so nervous your hand was almost shaking as it wrapped around him, and it might have had something to do with his expecting eyes looking down on you.

Your thumb didn't even reach the rest of your fingers, that's how fucking thick he was.

"up and down, like last time" he instructed, clearly getting impatient.

"l-like this?" you asked, gently stroking him.

"just like that baby" he breathed, his hips pushing forward a bit "Now use your mouth"

You tried to swallow some of the sand in your mouth, but all you could think of was how fucking huge he was and how he was never ever gonna fit, and how he was gonna be disappointed of you and-

"We don't have all day sweetie" he murmured 

"I-I'm sorry daddy, it's just that... I- I don't know if it's gonna fit"

He stifled a smile as he answered

"we're gonna make it fit sugar, don't you worry your pretty little head about it" he cooed, seeing some of the concern melt from your eyes "Now be good and suck my cock"

You nodded obediently, and just as he'd taught you last time, you widened your mouth and took him in, or better, you took his tip in.

"you can do better than that" he tilted his head, "go deeper"

So you did, you forced him more and more into your mouth until it was halfway in.

Your hands on his thighs balled into fists, and your face started to redden.

"breathe through your nose" he instructed, watching you do it "and hollow your cheeks for me, baby"

You did as told, and a loud breath fled his mouth.

"good girl" he whispered, making that weird feeling in your belly rise all over again.

"now- just like you did with your hand, go up and down"

Your mouth felt already incredibly full, but somehow, as you started bobbing your head, more and more of him started fitting inside of it.

"that's it" he groaned, his right hand moving some hair out of your face and fisting them in a makeshift bun at the back of your head.

You internally smiled at that, and you got so focused on trying to do even better that your eyes fell down to his groin.

"No look at me" he corrected you, using his leverage on your head to pull it back so your eyes were on his again "You look at me when you're sucking my cock"

You blinked in surprise, but before you could say anything he'd told you to "go on" and so of course, you did.

Up and down 

up and down

always fitting a tad more

"fuck" he murmured, trying to remind himself that he couldn't show you just how good you were making him feel, but fuck but that was a whole lot

Either he was an amazing teacher, or you were a natural. 

"A-am I doing good?" you asked, leaning away, while you tried to catch your breath.

"yeah baby" he breathed, seeing that need for reassurance in your iris

"really?" your eyes lighted up, as a huge smile spread on your lips

"yeah" he cut it short "but sweetie... less talking and more sucking"

"o-oh, right" You let out a soft laugh, slowly taking him back in, but before you could get back to your old rhythm, his hand at the back of your head, had pushed his cock all the way down your throat, making you gag and cough like a maniac.

Your eyes watered, and tears started flowing from your eyes as you looked up at him, confused and a little scared

But all you could see in his eyes was fun.

You looked so pretty choking on his cock...

"it's ok" he murmured, gripping your hair to guide your head up and down like he wanted, "just-" he forced you to gag on him again.

You looked up at him pleadingly as your hands tried to reach where he was holding your hair to try and get him to let go of you without succeding.

"fuck, that's good" he groaned, finally letting you go

You broke into a coughing fit, trying to get your lungs to work normally again, but he didn't even budge, actually, he was sadistically enjoying it.

"wh-why did you do that daddy?" you whimpered, sniffling

"oh baby" he murmured, "If you want Chad to make love to you you're gonna have to learn how to do that" he explained, stroking your wet cheek " Plus, I did it to prepare you for what we're gonna do next"

Your eyes widened slightly

"w-what are we gonna do?"

A grin pulled at his lips

"Now, darlin'," he spoke, "I'm gonna fuck that pretty throat of yours"

"Wha- I"

"shh" he shushed you, placing his thumb on your lips "it's ok" he calmed you down "Relax baby, I'm here, I'm only trying to help you"

"I know but-"

"But what?" he asked, frowning as he looked down at you.

"nothing" you immediately took it back.

"that's right" he nodded "Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out f'me"

And the moment you did... the moment you did, he realized he wasn't gonna last long

"You gotta stay like that ok, you don't wanna hurt daddy, do you?"

"uh-uh" you shook your head, your mouth still open 

"such a good girl" he smiled, before gently, (a gentleness that was gonna be forgotten in seconds) he placed a hand on the back of your head, and trusted his hips forward, making you gag softly.

"shit" he breathed, and then, as if he got possessed, he started going faster, and then faster, and then faster again until rivers were flowing from your eyes and the room filled with the filthy noise of your abused thoat.

"f-fuck" he groaned, forcing your head all the way down so that your nose was almost touching his crotch "Look at you... so fucking pretty like this"

You only had the time to remind yourself to breathe through your nose, and then he was already starting to push in and out of your mouth just like he'd done last time but down there.

You enjoyed seeing him breathe heavily and groan in pleasure because of you, so much so that your panties were drenched... but god it was hard to do as he asked.

"choking on my cock like a good little girl" he hissed, his hold on your head only tightening and his thrusts only fastening "Being so good f'me" he groaned "Always so good"

Your jaw was starting to hurt too much, and you just needed a little break, but the moment you tried to speak he stopped you.

"not now" he spoke, his voice hoarse and filled with pleasure "I'm about to cum baby" he explained, "you know what that means?"

You shook your head, eyes wider than ever.

"it means I'm gonna cum in your mouth" he breathed "and you're gonna swallow every single drop of what I give you," 

His chest was heaving, and you didn't think you'd ever seen him that blissed out

"but not until I say so, ok?"

"mh-mh" you hummed around his cock

"attagirl" he bit down his lower lips, trying to keep his grunts and groans down as much as he could "such a good, fucking, girl- fuck"

And looking down at you, ruined completely for him, he couldn't help but let go, filling your mouth up, until you were choking on the liquid and his cock combined.

He pulled out, his dick softening and his breathing calming down.

"show me" he ordered,

You widened your mouth even more and showed off its contents to him 

His hand grubbed your chin, tilting your head up more to him, as his fingers kept your mouth open.

His eyes were fully dark with lust as he grinned, stroking your bottom lip.

"Now swallow"

Your eyes never left his as you ingested his salty spent, and the moment you did, his dick threatened to harden again.

Fuck, he should have taken a picture

"good girl, now c'mere" he gestured, inviting you to stand up, which you gladly agreed to

Your knees were killing you.

He tucked himself back into his boxers and put on his pants again, while you stumbled to your feet.

"H-how did I do?" you asked, as he busied his thumb by caressing your pretty lips.

They were all puffy, just like his eyes, and the pleasure he got knowing that he was the reason for it, was unimaginable.

"you did good" he said, making you smile "But not that good" he cooed, lying through his teeth. he honestly didn't think he'd ever come that hard from just a blowjob, " If you want Chad to want to do this, you're gonna have to get better at it"

"o-oh"

"yeah" he winced, faux empathy tracing his tone "you really need some practice" he explained "so I think it's best if we do this once a day at least"

Your eyes widened in surprise

"Once a day?"

"at least" 

"y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course baby" he smiled, before leaving a quick kiss on your lips "what kind of step dad would i be if i didn't help you?"

And at that, you couldn't help but hug him, intertwining your hands behind his neck.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured to your ear, kissing you neck, and forcing a whimper out of your mouth.

"M-my throat's a little sore"

He smirked, softly chuckling "That's normal sweetie, but what I meant was..." he explained, his right hand traveling lower on your body until he was cupping your clothed pussy "how are you feeling here?"

You moaned softly "I-I feel tingly, like last time"

"mhh, that's good" he hummed, inhaling your scent "that's real good sugar, but we don't have time for me to take care of you, so here's what we're gonna do" he said, leaning away, until you were eye to eye "I want you to take one of your pillows and hump it for me"

"h-hump it?"

"yeah sweetheart, hump it until come"

"I-I-"

"it's ok" he stroked your cheek "It's just me"

"Y-you right" You nodded

"that's my girl" he kissed you "and while you hump it real good, I want you to film yourself, and then send it to me ok?"

"why?" you frowned, a little bit confused

Again with the questions

"Because I need to know if you did it right"

Your mouth parted at that, as the realization hit you

He was just too nice

"of course" you smiled "thank you so much daddy"

#this is not even close to being as good as the first one and I'm aware of it #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo

[planetpiastri]

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: when alex's childhood friend makes an appearance on his instagram, logan is instantly smitten, but the universe insists on keeping them only as a missed connection, and alex isn't helping matters. notes: the long awaited part three! i'm currently giving all my fics a facelift, but the guilt about this update has been eating away at me, so here you guys go<3 i've decided to stop living in denial and just admit this is a full series now so here comes the (brief) angst era! [series masterlist]

liked by lilymhe, georgerussell63, and 154,329 others

alex_albon winter break, you were fun 🫡 see you next year!

view all 2,876 comments

username1 try not to say parents challenge level impossible (failed)

lilymhe he stole that car

alex_albon you promised you wouldn't tell anyone!!

username2 looking good albono! excited to see you scoring points soon!

williamsracing Nice hat! :D

username3 guys can i confess something.... i miss yn :(

username4 you guys say this under all of his posts. obviously something happened and they don't post each other anymore for a reason, respect their space and stop bringing this up.

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and 71,823 others

williamsracing the boys are back and so are we 👀

view all 3,012 comments

username5 RRRAAHHH I SMELL DOUBLE POINTS

username6 the new suits are AWESOME, the boys are gonna kill it this season!!!!!

alex_albon who approved that corny ass caption

logansargeant Me alex_albon i'm gonna steal your tires

username7 even if yn has vanished off the face of the earth at least we can thank her for bringing the williams boys closer together so that we get to see them goofing off in the comments 😔

username8 yeah but it's all for show like they don't hang out off track anymore... landonorris oh are we just saying things in the comments? i wanna join!! george sleeps with a teddy bear georgerussell63 Don't drag me into this wtf alex_albon it's true, he does

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 71,013 others

logansargeant Some bits and bobs from the break

view all 2,789 comments

username9 what kind of whack british caption is that

username10 maybe the rumors about him and alex not hanging out were wrong, maybe they're hanging out TOO MUCH actually...

alex_albon i have taught you well, young padawan

username11 omg logan and oscar content we're soooo back

williamsracing Looking energized, Sarge!

username12 the fact that we never got a hard launch for logan and yn so we'll never know if they actually got together is my roman empire

username13 no fr!! they were flirting and bantering all over the place and then suddenly BOOM! she just disappears like wtf happenedddd username14 you guys talking abt a possible situationship not happening vs twenty years of friendship between alex and yn that's gone... have some priorities username15 hi just popping in to say you guys are weird af for speculating like this under his winter break dump 💀 move tf on

logansargeant

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, and 68,578 others

logansargeant Quick trip back over the pond before locking in 👊 bring it on season ✌️

view all 2,549 comments

username16 wait did we miss a step

alex_albon that does not look like sim work

logansargeant Are you my dad or something? Get a life alex_albon DAMN

username17 um? um?? the last picture??? um??????

georgerussell63 What

logansargeant Who? georgerussell63 ?? logansargeant Asked

username18 please be a soft launch with that girl from the afterparty please please please please please

oscarpiastri Interesting.

username19 OSCAR WHAT DO YOU KNOW

williamsracing

liked by ynusername, logansargeant, and 78,321 others

williamsracing Good times in Bahrain! See you next year, Sakhir 😉

view all 3,253 comments

username20 WHAT was that strategy guys

alex_albon "good times" literally where that was nothing but pain

williamsracing ☹️👉👈 we're sowwy awex alex_albon ew wtf don't say that to me

username21 guys? yn liked? she's alive?

username22 JUSTICE FOR LOGAN'S STEERING WHEEL

tagging: @sticksdoesart @hiireadstuff @minkyungseokie @thatoneembarrasingmoment @croissantbakerylws @dear-fifi @imjustme-n @kn1n3 @captainfrisbee @ssrcsm @rhythmstars @urfavnoirette

if you want to be tagged in future parts, fill out this form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant au #f1 #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #social media au #alex albon #saturn writes

[old-lorarri]

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚🇲🇲 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌 ─ 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ after a long winter break carlos decided to go and visit his gf's family and seeks to gain there approval ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ carlos sainz x fem! ferrari! race engineer! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ this is. really short one and I'm sorry it's not very good but I hope you enjoy! ❩

❨ series masterlist | main masterlist ❩

BIG BRO

so when am I meeting him

LIL SIS

when are you meeting who?

BIG BRO

your new bf

did you seriously think I wouldn't find out

LIL SIS

who else in the family knows

BIG BRO

everyone

did you forget dad legit has investments in most of the f1 teams

how long did you think you could hide this

LIL SIS

long enough....

how did i do?

BIG BRO

not half bad

though next time don't make out in the middle of the paddock

even if there are no cameras around

kind defeats the purpose of being "secret"

LIL SIS

fair enough

BIG BRO

anyway you should bring his to the family gathering

LIL SIS

and expose him to gossiping aunties and dad asking him 78374 questions

BIG BRO

they have to learn the hard way

it's the rules

LIL SIS

hi it's carlos here I would love to come meet your family

BIG BRO

we shall see buddy

carlosainz55 . 9hrs ago

seen by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,475,679 others

landonorris replied to your story!

ahhh meeting the parents are we

and the rest of the family

uncles, cousins, aunts, and grandparents

have you been threatened by her siblings yet

yes

all 8 of her brothers have threatened me

5 different uncles

and her father and grandfather

I have never been more scared in my life

anything interesting happen?

yeah all of the aunts gossip is JUCY

spill when you get back ey?

the aunties were mostly gossiping about how I'm gonna be unemployed in 2025

carlossainz55

liked by yourinstagram landonorris 79,568,989 others

carlossainz55 🇲🇲 bruma through the lens of my gf

view comments

user how does it feel to be living my dream

user carlos has a gf???

user I just searched up his gf and she's OLD MONEY how am I going to compete with her now

user forget carlos I want MOTHER

user oh how I wish I could call carlos sainz jr mine

user my parents ya'll

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─ requested by . . .

anon ─ Hi can I request 🇲🇲for the next crazy rich Asian series with Carlos and the driver I’m sorry if I’m being demanding..tho😓But the story line were reader is his f1 engineering and they starts dating and they get to the point were it’s necessary to meet each other’s family like including relatives but reader already met Carlos’s family so Carlos is going to meet readers family and he finds out readers family is like “crazy rich” for generations and he spends a week with the families back in mandalay. With gossiping aunties, flirty cousins and readers protective dad and brothers.I’m sorry again if it seems like I’m demanding. I’m really up for an hour brainstorming for this storyline 😭😭thank you so much for even reading to this point.😅

#f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fic #carlos sainz #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 social media au #social media #f1 #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 #f1 instagram au #cs55 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one blurbs

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | everybody talks

a/n: don't love this chapter. definitely a filler, but the next chapter is much more fun!

iii. everybody talks by neon trees

series masterlist | previous | next

tagged chrisr0driguez, travisstoll, and connorstoll.

lukecastell4n: little break but we'll be back so soon poisonedmercury

poisonedmercuryfan: new music????????

castell4nsgf: omg im excited

stollsluvr: ME TOO

chrisr0driguez: we miss you guys already!

lukecastell4n: fr, we miss seeing your beautiful faces on tour :(

travisstoll: working hard

lukecastell4n: hardly working 🥱

connorstoll: give me my guitar back

lukecastell4n: no

--

“mornin’ five star,” luke tossed you one of your probiotic drinks from the fridge as you entered the kitchen. 

you caught it seamlessly, mumbling a quick thank you. it wasn’t even seven am, but the two of you were already awake. it became a routine since it seemed like you both had the same idea. your coach told you that you needed to workout, even though you were on probation, in the off-chance that you’ll be allowed to play again when the season starts. you figured that the campers would be enjoying their vacations and sleeping in so you’d have the community gym to yourself. unfortunately for you, luke castellan was an early bird. 

your gym schedules synced up and you often found yourself having to make small talk with him in the kitchen while you filled up your water bottle before you ditched him to head to the gym. he would trail a respectable distance behind you, giving you your space, as he walked to the gym. the two of you did your separate workouts, sneaking glances at one another because it was a little awkward that you lived together, went to the gym at the same time, but didn’t talk to each other. 

it wasn’t for a lack of trying on luke’s part. he’d tried to talk to you a few times, but it seemed to not be a good idea to start a conversation before you had your morning coffee. it was funny for the first few days, but he was afraid that it would quickly cross the boundary of being quirky and cute to being straight-up annoying. he lived with you and he showed mercy to the rest of your cabinmates by not pushing your buttons. too much. 

he still occasionally indulged in bickering with you, which seemed to be all of your conversations. you always found something new to argue with him about. your dad was right about you being hard-headed and stubborn, but for some reason, luke didn’t mind. his days at camp were fun, at least, as fun as a summer camp could be, and your interactions kept him on his toes. the usual schedule of meals, rehearsals, and attempts to write new songs, became repetitive after a few days, but with you in his face, ready to argue at any moment, it felt like there was something to look forward to. 

you took the foil off your drink, downing it in one go. you tossed it in the recycling bin before turning to him, “do you go to the gym at this hour to spite me?”

luke chuckled, cracking open a red bull, “the word doesn’t revolve around you, you know?” 

“i know that,” you rolled your eyes, “but you can go to the gym any time in the day and you choose to go at the ass crack of dawn. why?” 

“it’s peaceful,” he shrugged, “the machines are empty and i don’t have to wait. it’s nice.” 

“that’s why i go this early.” 

“see,” he smiled, tilting his head. “great minds think alike.” 

you grimaced at his comparison, scrunching your face up. the sun was beginning to rise causing an orange glow to cast on your face. despite waking up so early and sleeping so late– he’d heard you come in with clarisse at 3 am this morning after a late-night smoke session, luke couldn’t see a trace of tiredness on your features. luke envied you. he definitely did not look that good after 3 hours of sleep. 

you fixed the zipper of your sweater, adjusting the bottom of it to better fit your hips. you were wearing a tight-fitting workout outfit, black nike pros, and the usual vans you wore when you worked out. your hair was in a high ponytail keeping it out of your face, which was a good thing. he’d seen how intense your workouts were and you definitely didn’t need to have your hair in your face while you leg pressed 275. 

“i just feel like i see you everywhere,” you commented, “and everyone just wants to talk about you.” 

luke’s eyes twinkled, “what do they say?” 

“luke castellan is so talented, luke castellan is so hot, blah, blah, blah,” you imitated the words you’d heard from other campers, sighing in discontent. “like shut up already. i thought that it would die down after the first day of you guys being here, but it’s been a week and it’s the same thing.” 

luke followed you out the cabin door, walking beside you for the first time since you both started going to the gym at the same time, “well, do you agree with them?” 

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. your eyes raked over his face and his body, contemplating. you weren’t blind. you understood why people said what they said about him. luke castellan was attractive with his curls and toned arms and his stupid full lips, which seemed to always be in a smirk, but the hype was too much. and poisoned mercury’s music was good– great even, but you needed to hear something other than how muscular luke castellan was or how his scar made him look rugged or how his voice sounded like angels singing. you were at your breaking point.

luke stood there, rocking back and forth on his toes and the balls of his feet, patiently waiting until you made up your mind. your lips formed a tight line, “i don’t see it.” 

“fuck, five star,” luke scoffed, unable to stop the smile on his face. he shook his head, curls bouncing around, “you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” 

“don’t need to fuel your ego any more than everyone else does,” you replied, continuing your walk to the gym. 

you didn’t seem to mind that luke continued to walk beside you, which was progress, in luke’s mind. his bandmates have been on his ass about trying to be friends with you since the rest of them developed friendships with you and clarisse over the week they’d been here. 

he’d seen you on the couch with chris watching tiktok videos on how to properly take care of his curls a few times. (luke was not stealing some of the curl cream that chris bought per your recommendation. his curls just suddenly became a lot more defined recently.) he watched you play darts with travis at the activities center and argued with him about why he didn’t need to buy a dart set for the cabin. (he agreed with you there. there was an incident in atlanta where connor was sent to the er because travis managed to lodge a dart in connor’s calf after losing a game.) he once saw you, clarisse, and connor return from a swim in the lake in the middle of the night when he stayed up trying to write a song. (the song remains unfinished on his notepad, tucked safely away on his bedside table. he had no inspiration to write any music at the moment.) 

again, it wasn’t for his lack of trying. you just didn’t seem interested in forming a relationship with him outside of being roommates. it was getting to him. just a little bit. he found himself thinking of you a lot. the boys started to comment on how he hadn’t gotten with anyone at camp yet, despite getting numerous offers from older campers and head counselors alike, but luke shrugged it off and said that he didn’t want to start drama so early on in the summer. it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. for some reason, he just couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“i can’t control what people say,” luke said after a moment. “i’m sure it must be so annoying to hear about how great i am.” 

“you are so full of yourself,” you groaned, shooting daggers in his direction. this made him laugh. “you know what you can control, though?” 

“what?” 

“the mess you make in the cabin,” you replied, “seriously, you guys have been here a week and the cabin already looks like a fucking frat house.” 

luke thought about the state of the common area. you were right. the cabin was a mess, empty cans everywhere, crumbs on every surface, and wires from the playstation scattered across the living room floor. the boys weren’t the neatest, they were teenagers after all, and luke had to clean up after them more times than he could count. having his mom on tour meant that he often got stuck with clean-up duty. 

“hey, don’t blame me,” he raised his hands up in defense. “i recycle.” 

“aren’t you a model citizen?” you remarked sarcastically, opening the door to the gym. you pursed your lips, staring at luke. “yeah, i still don’t get it.” 

luke snorted, smiling at you, “have a good workout, five star. looking forward to walking home in silence with you.” 

when you didn’t say anything else, but threw up the middle finger as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but stare at your figure before you disappeared from his view. what a way to start his day. 

– 

“hi, luke,” two girls called as they passed by the boys, waving flirtily at the lead singer. 

luke sent them a smile back, tossing a wink to them that made them giggle as they walked away. it was a miracle that there were no news leaks about where they were. luke’s mom was happy that this arrangement was working out. 

travis swung an arm around luke, “c’mon castellan, save some girls for the rest of us.” 

luke pushed his arm off, laughing, “trav, didn’t you literally go home with a girl on our first night here?” 

“ah, yes, stacy,” travis sighed, dreamily, smirking to himself as he recalled his first night at camp. he shook his head, facing luke again, “but seriously, castellan, ten girls have said hi to you since we left dinner and you’re flirting with them but not doing anything about it.” 

“i promised my mom i’d be good this summer,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his front pockets as he led the boys into the cabin. “and i told you guys, it’s too early to start shit. we got the whole summer. spread out your escapades, stoll.” 

luke thought that being back at camp half blood would bring back some terrible memories, especially his last summer there. it was the summer right after his dad left and luke was miserable. he was a moody 8-year-old who yelled at everybody who tried to be his friend, which resulted in him being alone all summer. he sat in the back of the room during music lessons, refused to participate in the end-of-summer performance, and on many nights, cried himself to sleep because he missed his dad. he felt pathetic. 

but so far, surprisingly, camp was actually nice. at his core, luke was a music fanatic, so it was energizing for him to get to talk about his music and his journey to stardom. his favorite interaction so far was with two, younger boys, who enthusiastically approached him and said that they were learning how to play guitar and sing because they looked up to the band. it was a little concerning at first, given that the band’s reputation wasn’t necessarily kid-appropriate, but he appreciated the sentiment. grover and percy walked away grinning from ear to ear when luke made them promise that they’d stop by again soon to show him their progress. 

luke sat on the bar chair, watching as connor and chris turned on the playstation, mumbling about a rematch on 2k to prove that one was better than the other. many things changed in all of their lives, but some things stayed the same. they were still just four best friends; the difference was, now, they got to travel the world together doing what they loved. 

chris and luke met in their freshman english class. chris let it slip that he was learning how to play bass because his mom warned him that if he broke another bone trying to skateboard, he’d have to walk to the hospital himself. she was joking, of course, but chris figured that after two years of failed attempts at learning how to skate, he should hang it up. 

he decided to try his hand at music and the bass became his new hyperfixation. they started writing music in luke’s old bedroom in connecticut shortly after. for years, the songs were just for them. they recorded it on shitty equipment and used garageband to fill in the instrumentals until they met the stolls. the stolls, luke’s neighbors who moved into town when luke was 16, heard them trying to figure out a hook for a song they were writing and offered some help. travis, with connor behind him, introduced themselves and the rest is history. 

poisoned mercury was born. travis convinced the other three that their music was good, that they should go out and play at local cafes and bars. at 16, luke became the front man of poisoned mercury. the song the four of them wrote together on their first day as a band, became the lead single of their debut album. kilby girl spent thirteen weeks on billboard top 50 and in less than a year and a half, the boys had a record deal with olympus records and they were heading off to start the north american leg of their world tour. 

you walked into the cabin with clarisse, laughing as she explained the incident that caused her to have glitter all over her face and her hair. one of her campers was having trouble opening the glitter jar and when she came over to help, the top popped off and glitter sprayed all over her. 

“i feel glitter everywhere,” she shuddered, “i need a shower before we help out with concert prep.” 

you looked around the cabin, grimacing, “it smells like boy in here.” 

“it’s our bachelor pad,” travis called out from the kitchen. he walked out into the living room with a fresh hot pocket in his hand, eyes widening at the sight of clarisse, “woah, what happened to you?” 

“arts and crafts day,” clarisse cringed, falling into the couch cushions. “i’m gonna be covered in glitter for days.” 

“hey, watch out,” connor paused the game he was playing with chris, shoving clarisse slightly. “you’re gonna get glitter everywhere.” 

“ah, yes, because having glitter is going to ruin the aesthetic of empty cans and half-eaten chip bags?” clarisse cocked an eyebrow, pointing at the mess the boys made. you and her were engaged in a passionate rant about how much it sucked living with teenage boys before your arrival to the cabin. 

“we’ll clean up,” chris rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly glancing at clarisse. you had a feeling that cleaning was the last thing on their agenda. 

you sat on the bar stool across from luke, “i didn’t expect to live in the mojo dojo casa house this summer.” 

“the what?” 

“from barbie,” you replied, “when the kens take over barbieland?” 

luke shook his head, “haven’t seen it.” 

of course, he hasn’t seen it. clarisse and the boys fell into a conversation about how she accidentally got glitter bombed. luke watched you as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, occasionally letting a chuckle leave your lips when you found something funny. he felt a little creepy staring at you like this, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

the sun was shining behind you, a soft glow framing your face and it made your brown eyes look like pools of honey. your nose piercing was iridescent under the light, which made luke’s eyebrows raise in surprise. he thought it was just plain silver, but when you tilted your head in certain directions, he could see sparkles of purple and pink. your long hair was thrown messily over your shoulders, a few tangles here and there, and the god-awful, orange camp half blood shirt you wore actually suited you. luke was a firm believer that nobody looked good in orange until he saw you in it.

“you’re staring,” you mumbled, looking up at him. “don’t tell me i have glitter on my face now too.” 

luke cleared his throat, playing with the chain around his neck, “yeah, like a tiny speck on your cheek.” 

you groaned, rubbing the right side of your face, “is it gone?” 

you didn’t actually have any glitter on your face, but luke figured it would be less awkward to say that you did instead of telling you that he was staring just to stare. he nodded, “you got it.” 

“thanks, i cannot deal with glitter,” you got up, walking over to the group. “hey, we can use some help with prep for next week’s concert if you guys are free.” 

“we’re not doing anything, right?” connor looked around. travis and chris shook their heads. “what about you, castellan?” 

“nah, i can’t,” luke said, “promised mom i’d try to write at least one song this summer and i’ve been in a rut so i think i’ll try to do that. you guys have fun though.” 

“perfect,” you smiled, “we can leave after clar gets out the shower.” 

they sent you a thumbs-up before you walked into your room. clarisse disappeared into the bathroom shortly after. luke took clarisse’s spot once you both left. he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, leaning back on his seat. he waited patiently for the sound of the showers to turn on before he spoke, “she’s hot.” 

“yeah, she is,” chris said, hitting play on their game. 

“don’t even think about it, castellan. when i said start a relationship with her, this is not what i meant,” connor remarked, shaking his head, “we are not gonna fuck up our relationship with mr. d because you can’t keep it in your pants.” 

“oh, you’re talking about y/n?” the three boys stared at chris, who sunk into his seat, blushing furiously. luke narrowed his eyes at chris, a playful smile on his lips. he’ll have to ask him about that later. 

travis blinked, bringing his attention to his brother, “s’not like castellan has a chance anyway.”

luke’s head snapped to travis, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i mean she’s out of your league, big guy,” travis shrugged. 

“well, yeah,” luke rubbed his jaw. he wasn’t that dumb to believe that you were in his league. you were lightyears ahead of him. he’d been rejected before, of course he had, but not since poisoned mercury got big– again, really bad for his ego – but he’d never been counted out before he even threw his hat in the ring. 

“i’m with trav on this one, luke. don’t fuck it up.” 

luke stared at his friends in disbelief, “can’t y’all have a little faith in me?” 

“no,” they said in unison. 

“fuck you guys,” luke flipped them off, ignoring their snickers. “i’m going for a smoke.” 

he really needed to get you out of his head.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 1 The Winter Ball

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 1. Summary: You meet Harry at your boss's retirement party and your night ends with a bang.

Word Count: 10k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, alcohol consumption, angst

Can We Start Over? masterlist

The winter ball was something Mr. Spector threw every year for his clients, colleagues, and other wealthy people he wanted to be seen with. This one was like the past three you’d attended, but unlike the others, this would be the last. Your boss, Mr. Spector was retiring, and he was moving to Italy. You were happy for him. Truly. He’d been good to you the past three and half years you spent working for him. You took on the duty of a personal assistant and friend. The friend part came naturally, of course. It wasn’t part of your job description but you honestly really liked Mr. Spector. He wasn’t nice to most people. But to you, he was kind of like the dad you never had. He was hard-nosed but he was fair and somehow you two just clicked.

You worked for one of the most elite household talent staffing companies out there. Your clients usually consisted of, not just wealthy people, but filthy rich and usually the kind that wanted to fly under the radar and needed the utmost discretion. In Mr. Spector’s case, he didn’t want his spiteful children to know how much he was really worth. Sure they were in the will, and they’d certainly do well upon his passing (that was all they seemed to care about), but they’d never see the real number of his assets until it was too late and everything was already doled out according to Mr. Spector’s wishes.

And so you helped him in any way you could to achieve this façade. You found a private accountant for him to move money about and helped him keep the appearance of not having the kind of money he actually did. You suggested, for example, that he not buy the Rolls Royce but that the Mercedes should be sufficient, and that rather than wearing a 31-million-dollar Patek Philippe, diamond-encrusted watch, he go with the more basic, 25-thousand-dollar stainless steel sports model Rolex instead. So he still maintained an air of wealth and prestige because there was no question to anyone that he was super rich. But you just helped him bring it down a notch.

And his winter ball was more like his retirement party this time around. He’d really gone all out. Despite your hesitation with some of his selections, you figured you’d give him this one. And you could admit that helping to plan his parties was one of your favorite tasks. You’d fly to venues all over the world seeking the best (once they’d been narrowed down of course) for him. Find the best chefs and mixologists, the perfect planners and decorators. You got to help select finishings, menus, and staff, right down to the types of linen and even the theme of the events.

And the theme of the night was A Secret Garden in the City. For this, you found a penthouse in Manhattan with full 360-degree views. The space was empty when you first arrived to look at it. You were told it wasn’t a place normally rented for parties but that the owner had intended to make it a fancy restaurant at some point. But it had been sitting for years, empty. And you found the place because Mr. Spector knew everyone. You had a number for a real estate agent to the wealthy in New York City and he gave you a bit of insider information. The penthouse space, he’d told you, could be negotiated by the owner to rent given the right price.

You had landscapers come in and make a garden of the space. Flowers, grass, trees, bushes, vines, even a lily pad pond… when everything was put together, it really did look like you were in a secret garden in the middle of Manhattan. Delicate string lights lit the space, the ceiling was painted a dark sky color so it felt as if you were outside. The table settings were like something out of a Hobbit’s Tale with knotty oak chairs with green silk cushions. The linens were of green satin silk with gold embroidery design and the napkins were gold satin. Centerpieces were potted leafy plants of all types, and moss was placed around the pots to give them that fairyland look. Tiny candles illuminated each table all around. Gold cutlery. Big golden lighted globes hung from the ceiling in various sizes between plants that cascaded down. It really was quite the spectacle.

You were proud of how it all turned out. And the 200 guests that Mr. Spector invited all appeared to be in awe of the space.

The stringed music playing for most of the event in the background was live. The musicians stood to the side of the room on a newly installed platform, trees lined the back of the stage. And now that the night was finally coming to an end, well, the main event had ended, it was time to drink and dance and let loose, the band was switched out for something rockier and more upbeat.

Mr. Spector kissed your cheek and gripped your arm, “My dear, you never cease to astonish me with your hard work. Thank you for this. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

You tried to get him to stay and enjoy the after-party. And like every year before, he declined. He liked his private time. Liked reading and writing and the quiet. He preferred his guests to enjoy what he’d been able to give them. It was, after all, for them, he always said.

“Even though it’s your last event like this? You won’t get this again, sir. Are you sure?” You smiled at him and he nodded. You knew he’d decline to stay.

So, you ordered your second cocktail of the night once Mr. Spector left. Some type of green concoction with a blackberry-sized red flower floating atop. You didn’t know what was in it. All you knew was that it tasted delicious and it was going to get you into some trouble. But maybe that’s what you were looking for that evening. After all, this was your going away party as well. You’d be put back into the system as active again once you were officially out of Mr. Spector’s employ. It would be time to find your next role.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many dancing, some sitting and chatting, others making their rounds to network and schmooze. You stayed at the edge of the dance area and let your body move to the rhythm. You kept your eyes on everyone. Even though you were trying to just enjoy yourself you still felt somewhat responsible for all the attendees. It was ingrained in you.

You definitely fit in with everyone, though. Your outfit was couture, high fashion like the rest of the guests. Mr. Spector had paid for everything for you, as always. You picked out a beautiful cowl neck, deep navy-blue velvet dress with a slit that went up to your mid-thigh. The back draped down tastefully but the drape at the front was dangerously low. Just like you wanted. You had red pumps with gold and ruby jewelry. It was always difficult finding things in your size that weren’t from a big box store but the hunt for the perfect dress and accessories was always worth it. And the dress? You felt absolutely sexy. From head to toe.

The song was swingy and fun. More people covered the dance floor and somehow you’d gotten pushed further in. You still had your drink in hand but now it was nearly empty so you were less worried about spilling any of the liquid on yourself.

A woman you recognized as a small IT business owner greeted you and you both chatted as you danced together. When the song changed Elsie pointed at your drink, “You’re low. So am I,” she lifted her glass to show you, “Should we grab more?”

The answer that night was yes. Yes to anything.

The bar that lined the wall opposite the band had people hovering, waiting for their drinks. You let Elsie take the lead in getting the attention of the bartender. She was a tall, slender blond with smooth shiny hair so you figured she’d do better at getting your drinks faster. And you were used to that. Being the fat one, you tended to get overlooked and ignored. When you were younger it hurt a lot more, but these days you learned to use it to your advantage.

It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unworthy. You just understood how most people perceived you, even if they were wrong. You were confident when it mattered and took good care of yourself. And you rarely ever mistook a man’s kindness for him flirting with you, which was nice in a way. You couldn’t ever wrap your mind around assuming every guy who was kind to you was flirting. A lot of your friends had that mentality. Any time a man would chat them up they’d automatically jump to thinking they were being sized up somehow. You couldn’t imagine feeling so confident that you thought a man having a conversation with you meant anything more.

So that’s why when the tall, gorgeous man with dark, soft curls, sharp green eyes, and an even sharper jawline leaned in and asked, “Are you having a good time?” You didn’t assume he was flirting with you.

“I definitely am. How about you?” You turned to look up at him. Deep pink lips, broad shoulders, a very expensive suit and shoes, cocky grin.

“Sure. But I had to fly out here to attend last minute. My assistant forgot to add the event to my calendar so I had to settle for this suit and here I am. I’ll deal with her later. Luckily Alfred always throws the biggest and best parties so it’s been worth it.”

You noted the tiny dig to his assistant in the back of your mind and nodded, “Yeah, Mr. Spector loves to go big. It’s turned out great I think.” You had planned on mentioning you were the man of the night’s assistant until Mr. Cocky complained about his own. So you’d keep that little detail to yourself.

He was drinking whisky, neat. And when Elsie finally returned to your spot at the edge of the bar she handed you your tasty green drink and you introduced her.

“Elsie, this is… uh… What was your name?”

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he held his hand out, gaudy rings on most of his fingers toward the pretty blond and she nodded, “Elsie Powers. Nice to meet you.”

The pair got to talking the moment Elsie mentioned her company and so you decided to dip out. You didn’t need to stand around and watch them flirt, which is what you assumed was going on. They were both gorgeous so that seemed natural to you.

But before you could take even a step outside of the little bubble the three of you were in you felt Harry’s hand at your low back as he leaned down to speak into your ear, “Don’t go too far. I was hoping to ask you something.”

You looked down at his arm and back into his eyes, “Okay… I’ll be around. You can come find me.”

When his fingers slid off your back as you stepped away you still felt the heat of his skin where he’d touched you. You liked his touch, but you assumed it happened because you took up so much space. It was more likely, in your mind, that he hadn’t meant to touch you there at all.

After another cocktail and a bit more dancing by yourself, Harry did find you. You didn’t realize it was him at first. You felt a warm body dancing behind you, not touching, just near enough that the heat emanated from him to your back. But then you heard his voice, “Found you. Thought you left.”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder and spoke, “Was planning on staying til the end. Felt like I deserved to enjoy tonight.”

“And why’s that?” Harry’s hand brushed along your bare arm softly before he removed it. You felt the trail of where he’d touched your arm and it made you wonder if he’d done it on purpose.

“No reason. I just deserve it,” you kept swaying your hips and you felt Harry moving with you, standing over you. You could smell his cologne.

“You don’t mind me dancing with you, do you?” His voice was close to your neck as he spoke.

Shaking your head you turned your body to face him, swinging your hips softly, “Not at all.”

He grinned down at you and the dimple that appeared on his cheek had you taken aback. He was truly stunning.

“Good. Wanted to chat some with you. Find out more about you…” he took your hand in his and pulled you closer, shifting the mood a little as you both danced. You silently inhaled in surprise at his gesture.

“And what did you want to know, Mr. Styles?” You raised your brows and smirked at him. You weren’t sure at that point what he was doing. But he was certainly leading you to believe this was more than just a friendly chat.

“First, what’s your name?”

You laughed, “I’m Y/n. I guess I forgot to introduce myself.”

“Are you here alone, Y/n?” His free hand found a spot on your side over your hip.

“I am. What about you?” You weren’t used to receiving this kind of attention from anyone. Much less a wealthy handsome man.

“I’m here alone too,” he kept a cocky grin plastered to his face as he drew nearer and spoke lowly so only you could hear, “But was hoping I wouldn’t be leaving alone.”

It was at that moment you were truly surprised. Was he…? Couldn’t be. You’d surely misread this situation just in the way all your pretty girlfriends misread it every time a guy showed any friendliness. Maybe it was the three cocktails you’d drank and that had you wondering what was in them.

Harry's hand released yours and he brought his ringed fingers up to your shoulder where he brushed the side of your neck, drawing you in closer with his other hand at your hip, “What about you?”

You blinked your eyes and looked up at him in confusion, “What about me? What do you mean?”

Harry’s grin deepened as he looked down at your mouth and took a clear glance at your cleavage before responding, “Did you hope to leave with someone tonight?”

You scoffed and looked around the dance floor before looking back at him, still not quite believing the direction this conversation was headed, “I hadn’t imagined I would leave with anyone. Figured I’d just go back to my hotel room alone after.”

The ridiculously attractive man licked his lips and kept his gaze on yours, “Really? You don’t want someone to take you back to their room and help you out of this pretty dress tonight?”

You began to cough. You’d choked on your own saliva as you inhaled a sharp breath at the wrong moment. His words caught you off guard.

But now you were hacking and bent at the waist, red in the face like an idiot.

Harry patted your back and you heard him speak into your ear, “You okay, darling? Need some water?”

When you’d recovered you and Harry were standing at the edge of the dancefloor away from the crowd and he had a comforting hand on your back.

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…” you wiped your face, which was moist from the tears you’d forced out from all the coughing.

Harry took your hand and led you to a free seat, pulling a chair out for you and then sitting next to you, his hand still on your back, “Do you feel better now?”

You nodded and smiled at him. You hadn’t forgotten what he said. But now you were sure whatever he was getting at was all but out the window after your little display.

“Come back with me to my room, Y/n.”

Well, that just blasted your little theory.

You sat up straight and your jaw dropped open wide, “Why?”

Harry laughed, “Because I don’t want to go back alone. Spend the night with me tonight.”

Were you in a dream? Had you drunk too much and were blacked out and hallucinating?

“I don’t… I’m not sure what you…” you were unable to put your thoughts together coherently. You hadn’t expected it. You assumed you weren’t his type. Too chunky for a man like him. Imagined he preferred a more modelesque figure on women he found attractive given his appearance.

“Look. I’ll just be very straightforward with you. I think you’re gorgeous and I’d like to have you in my bed tonight. Naked. How does that sound to you?”

You whispered the word naked back to him as if it were a word you’d never heard before. You took a deep breath and looked around the room.

“What are you drinking? I’ll go get us another so we can chat a bit before you make any decisions.”

Now this question was one you could actually answer, “The cocktail is one from the menu. Called the Grove.”

Harry got up and left you at the table by yourself. You sat back in the seat and sighed. What were you going to do? He was mouth-watering, which is why you choked on your spit in the first place. Your mouth was literally watering at his proximity on the dance floor. And now he was asking you to go back to his room to hook up. He couldn’t have made it clearer. There was no room for you to misinterpret what he meant.

And why should you say no? Why should you go back to your own room and sleep in that big bed all by yourself? Well, mostly because you were worried about getting attached. Sure you didn’t even know the guy but that’s just how you were. You weren’t built for casual hookups or one-night stands. And you were sure that’s all this would be. Could you handle it? Would you be able to have sex with someone and then move on from it?

When you saw Harry walking back toward you you’d made up your mind. You’d finish your drink and tell him your verdict. You needed one more drink, though. Just to really loosen up. If you were going to do this if you were going to take a risk and have sex with a stranger, one more drink would help you relax about the whole situation.

Harry handed you your cocktail and sat down with his whisky in hand. He brushed his fingers over your arm as he spoke about how he knew Mr. Spector, “His cousin was my boss years ago. Before I got started in my current line of business. And since then, Alfred’s been inviting me to his parties. I can’t usually go but I rarely miss the winter ball.”

“And what is your line of business?” You asked before taking another sip of your verdant drink.

Harry grinned and licked his lips, “Let’s not talk business.”

You frowned and looked down at your red-painted nails. It wasn’t always polite to ask people what they did for a living but you figured given the circumstances, those being that he’d just asked you to have sex with him, it was okay. Clearly, you’d misjudged.

Harry gripped your chin and pushed your head back up to look at him, “Don’t feel bad for asking. You were just curious. I think the less we know of one another the better. Besides, work talk is boring. Don’t you think?”

You blinked again, his intense gaze was really working its way under your skin.

“Okay. Sorry. You’re right.”

Harry shook his head, keeping his hand at your chin, “And don’t say you’re sorry. Wouldn’t you rather talk about anything but work right now?” He let go of your chin and sat back in his chair as he kept his eyes on yours.

“I guess. It’s just that everyone here is networking and I thought it was only natural.”

“You and I are not networking, Y/n.” Harry grinned.

By the time your drink was but a clear puddle of melted ice at the bottom of the glass, you could feel how hot your face was from the alcohol. Your neck and ears were burning and all of Harry’s soft touches were making you fuzzy. The way he was whispering in your ear…

“Okay. I’ll go with you to your room tonight,” you spat out quickly before you could change your mind.

Harry’s gaze lowered to your breasts again, his arrogant grin in place, “I know, darling. I was just waiting for you to admit it. You ready then?”

If he wasn’t so hot you’d have changed your mind at his cocky response. But god was he alluring. And somehow, his egotistical attitude was putting you at ease a bit. Because it would possibly be much easier to not get your feelings mixed up for a guy like him. It could just be a one-night stand. Like so many other people indulged in (which you always found absurd).

You both walked to the coat check to get your things before Harry led you, with his hand at your low back to the elevators.

You draped your wool coat over your shoulders and stood awkwardly in the elevator next to the man you were leaving with. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were 28 years old so it shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal but it was. You’d never done anything like it before.

“Are you nervous?”

You sighed and nodded as you looked up at the man, “A little. Haven’t ever done anything like this.”

Harry hummed and nodded, “I can tell. That’s okay. I’ll take the lead.”

There was a black car waiting for you at the curb as soon as you exited the building. A man who was standing near the car opened the back door and gestured for you to get in. You followed behind Harry and the door was shut, closing you off from the outside and loud noises of the city to the dark leather interior of the car. Harry’s hand slid up your exposed thigh the moment you’d settled into the seat, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, me and you.”

You turned your head to look at him, “Are you always like this? So confident about everything?”

Harry laughed and squeezed at your thigh, “If I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t be as successful as I am.”

You guessed that made sense. You just found it so strange that he was so sure of himself even when he hardly knew you at all.

You felt Harry’s long, ringed fingers slide upward over your plushy thighs in search of your panties most likely. And when he leaned over you and took your jaw with his free hand and smushed his mouth against yours it felt like crystalized water beginning to melt and drip and pool onto the ground.

He pulled your hand onto his lap and pressed your palm over his crotch, to which you felt as he grew harder and harder as the seconds passed with your lips connected.

When he was satisfied that you would be keeping your hand in place as you pressed down harder he raised his hand to your breast, his palm placed over the soft velvet before he lowered his mouth to your neck causing you to lean back the slightest for his access.

The car ride ended before you even realized you’d been moving through the city streets when the door you were sitting next to opened and the driver looked in at you two all disheveled and mid-kiss with his hand out for you to take.

Harry walked you into the hotel, which happened to be the same one you had a room at (how convenient you thought). The elevator ride up to his room was not unlike the car ride where you’d lost track of time and space when his lips were on yours and his tongue softly swiped at your mouth. You’d never had a man act this way with you before. It almost felt like desperation. Like he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

Guiding you off the elevator and to his room, you felt buzzy and your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly. His hand was at the back of your neck, his long fingers gently ghosting over your skin.

The moment you were pushed into his room Harry stood over you and began to loosen his tie, “Take your dress off. God, I need to see you.”

You were already worked up as you panted, keeping your eyes on his, slowly unzipping the back of your dress and stepping out. You had forgotten that you were wearing a nude shapewear slip that kept your tummy rolls in place and your breasts pert. The back of the slip was low cut to accommodate your dress. You looked down over yourself and stuck your fingers into the fabric to pull it down and as your breasts were revealed Harry groaned and leaned down to wrap his pink lips over your nipple. You watched his tongue drag over your plump flesh and his fingers dig into your heavy tits as he worked his way around both sides.

You were pressed against the wall as he pinned your arms back and kissed his way up your tits to your neck and then he found your lips.

Finally, he backed away, giving you space to finish the reveal of your body to him as he continued removing his own clothes.

You watched tattoos appear on his skin and the more buttons he undid the more you saw of him. He was strong and muscular. His pecs were impressive and he had a soft six-pack hidden under the fabric that you only saw once he tossed his shirt off. Tattoos on his arms scattered over his skin.

Tugging at your slip to get it off you knew Harry’s eyes were on your body. But you weren’t going to stop now. Even if you were slightly embarrassed. This was happening and you knew he wanted it. Sometimes you worried about the logistics of sex being as heavy as you were, especially when it came to being with a guy who was not at all. But Harry’s build was masculine and broad and he was clearly going to be able to handle you.

When his pants were off and he was down to his underwear you knew he was enjoying the view of all your bits based on the thick lump under the fabric. You were left standing in your silky black panties when he stood over you and smoothed his hands up your arms and palmed over your tits, “Jesus fucking Christ look at you. Get on the bed for me.”

You swallowed and stepped toward the area of the room where the bed was and sat at the edge, watching as he stalked after you. His eyes were dark as he crawled over you and nudged you with him into the middle of the perfectly made bed, soft and luxurious feeling under your skin.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he smoothed his lips against yours as he palmed over your skin down to your thigh, pinching at the fleshy insides as he pushed your legs open, putting his knees down into the mattress to keep you spread with his thighs.

He kept his lips working over yours, his tongue smearing against your tongue wetly as you felt his fingers dip down to your panties and then to the wet patch at your center. You could tell you were wet before he even touched you. He’d turned you on with ease. His voice, his body, his eyes, his confidence…

You felt him smile against your lips when he dredged his fingers up and down over your wet panties, right where your labia was. Soft strokes of his fingers pushed the fabric of your panties between your pussylips until he dragged a finger up and found your clit and you gasped. He circled over your clit, pressing the wet fabric into you.

When he lowered himself, using his lips and his tongue down your body as he went he looked up at your face after dotting kisses over your fleshy tummy, “You’re gorgeous and you smell so good. Such a dirty girl, though, aren’t you?” He dabbed more warm kisses down your stomach to just above your panties, “All wet for me like you’re desperate for cock,” he licked along the band of your panties and looked up at you again as he adjusted himself between your legs, “Are you desperate for cock, Y/n? Need me to take care of you tonight?”

You nodded, “Oh my god…” your words came out as a whisper, “Yes, Harry.”

When you felt his tongue glide up your crease over your wet panties your mouth dropped open wide. He was not holding back with the foreplay so far. You were usually disappointed in sex, the few times you’d had it. Foreplay was an afterthought. And only a handful of times did you ever receive any kind of mouth-to-pussy action, which you assumed was due to your size.

But Harry was having no trouble treating you like some kind of irresistible sex pot. He pushed your thighs harder and raked his tongue up and down over you until you’d bucked upward just a bit.

Harry’s fingers pulled at the waistband of your panties, “Taking these off because I need more.”

You felt your panties being moved down your legs then Harry returned with enthusiasm, his lips all over your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his fingers pinching into your flesh before he poked the tip of his wet muscle to your clit and began to lick all around it, lapping you up and teasing you to the point you were shaking and whining, proving him right about how desperate you were.

When he finally stopped his teasing licks he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. You gasped loudly and moaned, to which Harry moaned into your pussy.

His shoulders were against the back of your thighs as he masterfully licked you out and kissed your clit until you were reaching down with one hand to slide your fingers into his thick curls.

And that only seemed to stir something more ravenous in him. He growled when he felt you pulling at his roots and suddenly you felt his fingertips at your entrance before he pushed them in slowly, the metal of his rings being nudged in the slightest. You were in an alternate universe. Somewhere that only existed you and Harry and the bed you were on as you laid spread out for him to pleasure.

He was good with his tongue. He used it over your clit like he understood what you needed, putting pressure where it was vital and then slurping you into his mouth making your entire body quiver in ecstasy. His repeated movements, soft tonguing, pulling at your clit, the bump of his fingers through your walls and into your delicate warmth, the precipice of your orgasm was taunting you.

“Harry!” You yelped when he sucked your clit in especially roughly and his fingers dug in deep making your pussy squelch.

He smiled and lifted his mouth, speaking against your cunt, hot breath coating your labia and clit, “Feels good, Y/n? You gonna let me give you an orgasm?”

You moaned pitifully and nodded to yourself as you scrunched your face when he attached his wet lips back to your clit and curled his fingers just right, “Yes! Oh my god…”

You had never felt anything like it before. Like Harry. And maybe it wasn’t that he was all that good at cunnilingus (he was), but perhaps it was the way he was handling you. The way he was so eager to make you feel good. The way he wasn’t worried about his own throbbing cock between his legs, growing heavier by the minute as he sucked and licked and kissed your cunt.

His focus was on you completely and you felt that. You felt his attention and his devotion to your pleasure before his. And that was what did it for you. It was the care and thoughtfulness of it all. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced with any man before and it pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm rolled out of you in waves as you writhed under him and cried curses and nonsense into the room. He held you down with one hand as well as he could so he could lavish you with his mouth until you were done with your unraveling. His fingers stroked your insides as you pulsed around them and felt the tingle of your clit being overwhelmed by his lips. You gasped and laughed at the way he continued ravaging you well past what was necessary.

Releasing his hair you pushed yourself up by your elbows to see his face still between your legs, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much as you had. It might have been the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life. But that could have been all those feel-good chemicals being released in your brain post-orgasm.

You pushed at his forehead to indicate you were done, “Okay!” You tried closing your legs but Harry pulled his fingers from your pussy and pressed you down as he licked up and up and up. Until finally he opened his eyes and looked at you, lips still making out with your pussy as you laughed and tried pulling away.

“It’s too much!” You giggled and moved your hips under him.

Finally, he parted from your labia and pushed himself up over you, caging you in as he hovered, “Good?” He raised his brows.

You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” You laughed as you spoke.

Harry grinned and you watched him move away from you, pulling his underwear down and exposing his weighty cock, thick and long. Yes. He’d be able to handle you just fine.

He grasped it in his hand and moved next to you. You sat up and reached out to feel him, velvety and warm under your palm before getting to your knees and looking up at him as you lowered your lips to his shaft. You wanted to feel it on your mouth and in your mouth.

Dragging your wetted lips down until you reached the base you gripped him and tongued your way up to his tip and heard a shallow gasp from his chest. Licking around his crown you pulled at his skin and wrapped your lips around just the very tip of his head before slipping your tongue around him and sucking softly.

A beautiful deep moan was music to your ears. He was enjoying it. So you indulgently lowered yourself down a bit more, feeling the width of him take up space inside your mouth and on your tongue. Gentle strokes of your lips over the top part of his shaft and over his swollen head felt good for you. You hadn’t given head in a long time. And you could tell Harry was into it.

He smelled good. Nice and clean and warm. You used your hand to pull at the base of his shaft up to your parted lips as you sucked on him and lapped around his skin.

When Harry’s moans turned into a rhythmic panting you felt his hand at your jaw, nudging you up until your lips were pulled away from his pretty cock, “You are desperate for cock. Sucking me like that? If I didn’t want fuck you so bad I’d let you finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”

You shifted back as Harry leaned over you and pressed his mouth against yours, his hand at your neck pushing you down into the mattress. His mouth was wet and smelled like you as he smeared his lips on yours. You moaned when he parted from you and got off the bed.

You could hear the crinkling of the wrapper from the condom as he sorted himself out and then crawled back next to you, taking your hand, “How’s that sound, Y/n? Want my cock inside your soft pussy? Hmm?”

Looking down at his hard length, covered in a condom, and back into his eyes you nodded, “Yeah,” you were breathless.

The grin on Harry’s face as he moved between your legs, his eyes on yours was like someone who’d just gotten the best news they’d heard all day. He thread his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hand down into the mattress near your head.

The front of his strong thighs pushed against the inside of yours as he positioned himself over you. His cock heavy on your belly before he moved back, letting go of your hand to grasp himself.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. I want to hear how good it makes you feel, okay?” His tip dragged through your wet labia, up and down, “Just lie there like the pretty little thing you are, and let me fuck you deep.”

You nodded as you watched his eyes. He was looking down at where his cock was brushing over your wet and puffy pussylips, his lips parted as he bumped into your clit and then smacked his girth down over you.

The sound of his cock dragging through your arousal made you feel like a different person. No man had ever taken the time to indulge the way Harry was. It was clear by the look on his face that he liked everything he saw and even how soaked you were.

You felt the tip of his broad head nudge into your entrance as he looked at you with dark pupils. He pulled his brows together as he savored the feel of you and gently pushed through the ring of your wet muscle. Just knowing that you were making him feel like that had you moaning with your eyes locked on his.

“Feel that, Y/n?” He slowly dipped in and pulled back, wetting the condom as he went, pushing in deeper on each thrust forward.

“I feel it…” your words came out shaky as his length was forced through your slick walls, spreading your insides apart slowly.

Harry inhaled a breath and let out a deep moan when his cock reached as far as he could take it, “Taking my cock so good,” he pulled back and looked down at the scene between your legs. All wet and puffy, his cock coated in your creamy arousal. He loved the way your pussy gripped him and your labia stretched around his cock, “Gonna be dreaming of this,” he pressed his thumb over the space where his cock was moving into your entrance and then up to your clit to rub circles softly, wet and warm.

“Ohhh…” you whimpered when his thumb pressed into your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your entire body was boiling and buzzing as Harry rocked into you, his balls thwacking slowly into your ass.

“Yeah? Tell me how you like it, pretty girl.”

How could you answer this man with his dick lodged so deep in your tummy? How did he expect you to make a coherent sentence with the way his thumb was stroking your clit back and forth? How could your brain form any sort of response when his cock was dragging through your insides and pressing into all your bits, hitting your hidden spots like his shape was made just for you?

“I want it… Mmm… like that…” was all you could bear to squeak out when he smacked into you in one harsh thud.

“Harder? Softer?” His thumb never ceased the yummy caressing of your fleshy pearl.

“Fuck!” You gasped when he smacked into you again, causing your body to jolt upward from the force.

“Like that? Need it a little rougher, Y/n? Need my cock to split you in half?” Again, a harsh thrust into your guts that had you gurgling and falling apart too soon.

“Oh she wants it a little rough, I can tell. Your cute pussy likes a good pounding doesn’t she?”

You held your breath when you felt him angle over you and sink down into you until it hurt. Until his long cock was buried in so deep his balls were tucked against your ass as he ground himself in, “Pussy like this needs a lot of attention. Lots of care…” he moaned when you clenched around him, “Want me to take care of you? Want to feel what my cock can do to this pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, please, Harry!” You grasped onto his forearm as he rolled solidly into you, deep and slow, slushy and sopping between your thighs.

“Yeah? Gonna stuff myself so far into you that you can’t breathe. Gonna make you come so hard you’ll never want another cock again.”

You moaned and felt his crushing weight over you as he continued grinding his hips against yours but then suddenly he was pulling out and you felt a sting on your thigh when he smacked you, “Get on all fours.”

You were blurry and floaty as you rolled over and pushed yourself up to do as he asked. Your pussy puffy and begging for more of his cock.

His hands gripped the side of your hips tight and you smushed your face down to the mattress before you felt his cock rip into you in one punishing stroke. You cried out and he did it again. And again. His cock pummeled into you repeatedly, punching the air from your lungs and giving your pussy the best fucking of its life.

You did like it hard. A little rough. Nothing wild, just something that you could feel for a couple of days. Something that made you gasp and brace for more.

“Holy fuck…” Harry gritted as he fucked into you, watching his dick disappear repeatedly. Your pretty round bottom bouncing and wiggling at each plunge. He dug his fingers into your ample flesh and spread you out so he could watch as you gripped him exactly like he loved. The little noises you were making had him reeling.

It was his favorite. A beautiful woman with her ass in the air as he railed her deep. But especially when it was a nice big ass. He loved to be able to grip something in his hands. To squeeze and smack. It always felt so much better to have something to hold on to. Not that he didn’t love slender women. He certainly did. But there was nothing like the feminine physique of a woman with meat on her bones, wide hips, a big tummy, and extra bits to touch and run his fingers over. It was fucking sexy.

You could feel him as he worked you open. He buried in deep and then pulled back until his thick tip was being pushed through your entrance again and again. He was long and every inch of him pulled and pushed through your walls, sliding along all your bits and ridges making your skin heat up.

Then you felt his chest against your back and his cock was angled so far inside of you that your eyes nearly crossed, “Love your little gurgles and moans, Y/n. Feels good on my cock?” He rolled into you, keeping himself stuffed to the hilt.

“Yes! Fuck, Harry!” You turned your head to speak so he could hear you and then you felt his lips on your back as he kept rocking into you languidly, never pulling back, only dipping into you, swiveling his hips to ensure you could feel every part of his cock moving through you.

You felt a tear drip from your eye as he reached down for your hand and moved it toward your pussy, “Rub that wet clit, sweet girl. Want to see you quivering under me again.”

The moment your fingertips came into contact with your puffy nub you moaned and all you could feel was Harry’s warmth and his big cock and your clit being worked just how you liked.

He began to rut into you with unforgiving strength. Your body was being smacked into and your skin was beginning to burn where his hips were striking your ass. It felt incredible. It felt like a man who knew what he was doing.

“Yes! Yes!” You shakily cried out. Harry’s long shaft was gliding in and out and you could feel him every time your fingertips moved back the slightest. His heavy cock slipping into your pussy vigorously as you ran your fingers back and forth, up and down on your clit.

Harry put a hand on your low back and settled his thumb into the top of your crack as he watched your cunt swallow him on each thrust. He bit his lip at the gorgeous sight and lowered his other hand to your right cheek, pulling at your flesh to give himself a better look at how you were taking him. How perfect you were for his cock.

When he noticed your moans growing louder and more desperate and then saw your thighs shaking he pounded into you with deliberate, long strokes so you could really feel him inside of you.

And feel him you did. His length filled you up and pulled back, before pressing back in until your world began to spin and your pussy was powerless to your orgasm. You reared yourself back onto his cock and cried out pathetically as Harry breathed heavily and felt your cunt sucking him in and spasming around him.

“Oh, baby…” he moaned and watched more cream coat his cock from your pussy. You were coming hard, lips wide open as you cried out and gasped, and the way you were clenching around his cock felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced during sex. You were fucking sexy.

When your voice lowered and your body stopped quivering Harry halted his movements and ran his hands on your back gently and down to your bum, keeping his cock lodged inside of you, “Creamed all over my cock, Y/n,” swiped his thumb around the area where you two were connected and lifted it to his mouth to taste.

You panted and smiled into the blanket when he suddenly pulled out and popped your bottom with his palm, “On your back. Want to see that pretty face again.”

You were on the verge of being completely wiped out. You knew he hadn’t come yet, though, and you felt like he deserved it with how fucking good he was. Two orgasms already. That was unheard of for you.

Harry helped you situate and he fit himself between your thighs. You looked down at his cock and noted he was right about you creaming all over him. White gobs of your arousal at his shaft and in the thatch of dark, trimmed hair at his base. God his cock was good.

“You feel so good on my cock, Y/n. You know that?” He pressed his tip inside of you, making you drop your mouth open and he gasped. The way he stretched you apart was insane. It felt incredible.

“Fuck… your pussy needs my cock inside of her. Yeah? I could fuck this sweet cunt all day and never get tired of it. Fuck, baby…” he moaned his words as he thrust into you, his hips dragging against you and your clit being pushed into with each plunge.

You took your breasts in your palms and kneaded at them as you watched Harry’s face twist up in rapturous despair. Every roll of his hips was torture for him. His body wanted to come but he had planned on you having one more orgasm. Wanted to feel you squeezing and pulsing around him as he came with you. The decadence of being able to feel your pussy coming around him as he was pouring into you would be bliss.

The edge of his hairline was wet with sweat. You knew he was working hard to give you his cock the way you needed it. His arms were flexing as he held himself up over you, back and thighs clenching and stretching as his muscles exerted, loosening and tightening.

Now there was no slap of skin or the sound of thuds filling the room, it was only hot breaths and gasps and wet pussy being fucked. The occasional distant sound of people moving past his suite on their way to their own.

Deeper and deeper he stuffed himself as he kept his radiant green eyes locked on your face. Your insides were bowing and tensing and vibrating with delight. It was the best you’d ever gotten and his handsome face watching you had your head spinning and your body melting under him. He was too good. The way he was tugging his cock inside of you and stroking your walls and fitting himself deep into your guts like he was trying to reach up into your spine and your lungs under your ribcage… it was going to stick with you for a long time. And he was probably right. You’d be dreaming of his cock. You were sure of it.

His pacing was perfect; smooth, wet thrusts and a satisfying angle that had your whole body resonating with sex and electric crackles like you’d never felt. His undulating hips kissing your clit each time he ground into you.

“Look at your tits jiggling, Y/n. Fucking so hot…” he panted his words like he was out of breath, “Damn baby,” he moaned as he slowed his stride for a moment to collect himself. His balls were already tightening against his body, ready to release too soon.

He leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours and it made your skin and pores and nerves spark and convect. Little by little your pulse accelerated until you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His tongue inside your mouth and his perfect cock inside of your tummy, the smell of him and of you and the soft bed beneath your back- it had you nearly going up in flames.

When he finally began to move again, when he’d steadied his composure so he could last a little longer you gasped into his mouth.

Now his long strokes were thick and stunted, his shaft inching in and in and in until you couldn’t breathe. His nose pressed into yours and his lips moved around your lips, smearing saliva over your warm, plush mouth with his tongue. It was filthy, the way he kissed. Wet, aching. Like he was fucking your lips with his tongue at the same time he was filling your pussy with his cock.

You felt his muscles begin to shake as he parted from your mouth and looked down at you. Blown-out pupils, pink parted lips, and a flushed face. He was about to come and you could see it on his face and in the way he was panting and getting louder with each jerk of his hips. It was delicious.

“You gonna come, baby? Gonna milk my cock with your cunt, squeeze around me, and drain me?”

Grabbing onto his forearms you nodded and feebly whimpered, “Yes… oh my god…”

Harry groaned as he canted his hips sloppily and his thrusts grew erratic as he held back to wait for you to come first.

You’d always heard of the mythical concept of a cock fitting together perfectly with the right pussy and how it could make women come from penetration alone when they’d never been able to before. You’d never experienced it and thought it was just a made-up fantasy. A wild fable.

But you were wrong. Harry’s cock proved you wrong. He was nudging into things inside of you that even your vibrator missed and as shocking as it was to know you were about to come, yet again, you were of no mind to think too much about that because your body was submitting to the way he was handling you and your pussy was already beginning to flutter around him and pulse as you gasped and dropped your mouth wide.

Yes, you were having one of those kinds of orgasms that you could feel from the inside out. That made your ears feel stuffy and your vision go white as you cried out loudly.

Harry choked out a gasp as soon as he felt your walls gripping him and you tossed your head back, moaning his name over and over again like you needed the room to know who was making you fall apart.

Your pussy wrapped around him so perfectly and he looked down from your perfect tits to your face and he lost it. His own cry of your name was loud as he threw his head back and throbbed, releasing into his condom, his come filling the tip full as you milked him with your pulsing orgasm.

Divine. Complete and utter perfection. He hadn’t come so hard in years and the way you responded to him only coaxed him deeper into his own ecstasy.

When his cock stopped pumping and twitching he opened his eyes and looked down at you looking all fucked out and satisfied. Exactly what he had hoped for when he brought you to his room. Better even.

When your gaze finally found his he smiled down at you. He figured it would be nice to have you again in the morning if you were up for it because he certainly didn’t want to have you leave. Not yet. Maybe he’d order room service and you two could talk some more. Maybe another round or perhaps you’d both just crash after that marathon. But he knew he’d want to give you a parting gift in the morning at the very least. One of those soft and lazy morning fucks before kissing you and sending you off so he could catch his flight the following afternoon.

Yeah. That sounded nice to him.

But the sudden sound of his phone buzzing had him turning to look at the nightstand. You’d barely recovered from your scorching orgasm when he rolled off of you and quickly picked up the phone, his back to you, “Hello?”

You inhaled deeply. You still couldn’t believe you’d just done that. With a stranger nonetheless.

“No, I’m okay. Just ran to grab the phone is all.” He was panting just enough that whoever was on the line had wondered what he’d been doing. You turned your head to look at him. His back was to you.

“Sure, babe. See you then.”

You sat up quickly. Babe?

Harry stood from the bed and picked up his pants, “I’m sure you can get your clothes on and be on your way quickly. Yeah?”

You instinctively covered your chest with your mouth dropped open, “What?!” Harry paused before putting his shirt on and looked at you with an unamused expression, “I said you need to leave.” He raised his voice a notch as if the reason you asked him what was because you hadn’t heard.

You shook your head and slid off the bed feeling dirty and shameful, reaching to the ground for your discarded dress, “I know what you said. I was surprised that you were… never mind.”

The sudden change in his attitude toward you was a shock. He’d been so attentive and affectionate and now he was cold. Inconsiderate. You struggled to keep up with the abrupt shift in his temperament.

Harry walked to the window as you shimmied into your dress and attempted zipping it up, “Fuck…” you mumbled under your dress. The last thing you wanted to do was ask this asshole to help you but really didn’t want to walk out of his room with your dress half unzipped and your ass crack hanging out.

“Can you please help?” You sighed and looked over at him. God, you hated how attractive he was, especially now that he was being so cold to you suddenly.

 Harry silently shook his head to himself as he tucked his shirt in and walked toward you as if it were some terrible chore to help you.

“There. Now I really need you to go. Quickly.”

You hadn’t even had the chance to wipe up in the bathroom or pee. You were stunned at his behavior.

You gave him your dirtiest scowl, scooped up your underwear, and grabbed your small purse, stuffing your bra and panties inside. The slip you had to carry in your hands. As you pulled your shoes back on your feet one at a time, Harry was plucking the condom off the floor and looking around the room in a slight panic.

“Fuck you, Harry. This is rude. You didn’t have to treat me like garbage. Not like I was gonna fall for you or something you prick.” When your feet were securely in your shoes Harry walked across the room toward you as you tried to make your way to the door to leave.

“Y/n?”

You turned to look at him.

“Can you toss this in the garbage near the elevator for me? Thanks,” he pressed the used condom that was stuffed into a tissue into your hand and you nearly lost it. Nearly fucking karate chopped his ass to the ground and stomped on his face. But then you realized something. He was in a hurry to get you out of his room because he had someone coming up to see him. Someone he wanted to hide the condom from. A lover? Girlfriend? Wife?

Instead of responding verbally you flipped him off and slammed the door behind yourself. But before you walked away from the door you pulled the condom from the tissue and put it over his doorknob, nice and tight. The used rubber was still heavy with his come and you smiled as you dropped the tissue onto the floor and pulled out a cocktail napkin and pen from your purse, pressed your lips into it to leave it lightly stained with your leftover lipstick, and then wrote Thank you, Harry xx. You balanced the napkin right over the condom on the doorknob and then grinned to yourself as you walked down the hallway to the elevator. You sure were glad your room was in the same hotel. When the elevator doors opened a pretty blonde stepped off and rushed past you, headed in the direction of Harry’s room. She barely even glanced your way before you stepped onto the elevator and pressed 2 for your floor.

So maybe it wasn’t a terrible ending to the night after all.

Part 2

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[lemonlover1110]

So I binged your entire Dad series and I love it so much! I was cleaning and couldn’t help but feel giddy about the prospect of Gojo being the type of dad who threatens boyfriends, so could you write a scenario where Geto & Gojo are having a play date and the two precious babies walk up to them holding hands and announces they’re dating? (Like how we grew up in elementary school saying we have a bf/gf)

dad!Satoru Gojo & dad!Suguru Geto

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru and Suguru having kids at the same time meant that their kids would grow up to be best friends. At least that’s what the two expected, and so far as they grow, it seems that way. 

Satoru’s daughter and Suguru’s son are both six which means that they both have too much energy for their little bodies. Both of their wives arrange playdates so that the kids can get the energy out, but this time around they arranged it so their husbands would keep an eye on the kids. Both were mildly annoyed when their wives made plans without consulting them, but they assured that they could handle it.

Satoru and Suguru sit on the couch, watching as their kids play together. They talk to each other about the plans they have coming up, briefly watching that their kids aren’t killing each other. Luckily enough, the pair seems inseparable, so much so that it reminds the dads of their own friendship. The kids are just mini versions of their parents, it’s no surprise that they get along so well.

“Daddy.” Satoru’s daughter calls out, and the man is so engrossed in a conversation that he holds up his index finger. He needs one second before tending to his daughter’s needs. Suguru glances over, and he blocks out whatever Satoru says, his eyes slowly going wide.

When Satoru notices the reaction of his best friend, he stops mid sentence. His head turns as if in slow motion to look down at his daughter, his eyes shooting wide open when he notices that his daughter’s precious hand is holding that of Suguru’s son. He tells himself that it’s nothing weird, kids hold hands all the time with no meaning whatsoever. Satoru clears his throat before asking, “What did you need to say, honey?”

“Katashi is now my boyfriend.” She announces with the prettiest smile on her lips. Yet, Satoru’s hand goes over his heart and he gasps. Boyfriend? At six? No way, absolutely not. 

“Oh, c’mon bro, they’re just six. It’s nothing serious.” Suguru can’t help but laugh, lightly tapping Satoru’s shoulder to comfort him. It’s not working all that much since Satoru is certainly not happy with the news. He thought he would have at least ten more years before this happened. Satoru makes eye contact with Suguru, and his friend is clearly amused.

It’s nothing serious, he shouldn’t be taking it so hard. Satoru sighs before looking at the kids that still hold hands. It’s nothing bad, just two kids playing around. Right now, boyfriend or girlfriend holds no meaning so Satoru’s reaction shouldn’t be so serious.

Satoru still wants to scare him. How will that happen though?

“Honey, go play with your barbies, let me talk to him.” Satoru orders, giving her a serious look. She knows he isn’t playing around. She lets go of her boyfriend’s hand, and runs to her dolls. Once she’s gone, he’s left staring at a six-year-old kid, wondering what the hell he is going to say next.

“Easy on him.” Suguru warns because that’s his six-year-old. Maybe he would help if it was someone else’s son. The kid already looks terrified so Satoru can’t go overboard.

“Look, if you ever hurt her in any way, I’ll…” What would he do? He can’t threaten to beat up a literal child. “Call paw patrol on you.”

Suguru laughs, while his son nods, completely terrified of Satoru. Good enough.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #getou suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou #jjk geto #jjk satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #dad gojo #dad geto

[nobodyfamousposts]

Do you really think all of ML's problems would be fixed if Adrien never existed?

Good heavens, no.

Adrien isn't the problem. He's just a symptom of a much larger issue. That issue being laziness and poor writing that comes in the form of "tell, don't show", plot threads that go nowhere, and lack of character development or plot progression that leads to a setup of "Status Quo Is God". Removing Adrien wouldn't fix all of that. Heck, it wouldn't fix any of that.

I can't fault the writers for replacing Felix with Adrien. Even if I and others could write out a plot with Felix, that's not to say everyone could or that the writers could. It could very well be that Felix as he was in the PV simply didn't work for the setup they had in mind.

...the issue here is that the setup they had in mind seems to require stagnancy. Where Hawk Moth attacks without winning and the heroes fight off the akumas without really trying to track him as the source and the two leads chase each other around in circles without anyone making any headway in either of these battles. Marinette wants to date Adrien. Chat wants to date Ladybug. It's why all her plans to ask him out fail while his attempts to express his feelings aren't taken seriously. And there is no forward movement, whether in their arc or in the fight against Hawk Moth. There wasn't even build or lead up to the two falling in love. They just started out episode one with crushes on each other and remained having crushes on each other until arguably season 5.

But no good story is stagnant. In this setup, characters need to do things and there needs to be a feeling of forward momentum.

Break it down this way: What is Adrien's problem? What is his goal? What is the obstacle to his goal?

Yes, we could say Adrien's dad being a supervillain and a neglectful jerk is Adrien's main problem, but it's not the problem Adrien is actually focused on in the show. Instead, if we could say Adrien has a problem, it would be that he wants to date Ladybug. And his goal is to date Ladybug. And the source of the problem and obstacle to his goal is...Ladybug.

So his problem, his goal, and the obstacle are all the same thing. This ultimately seems to make his problems Ladybug’s fault then because the problem would be solved if she gives in to his wants rather than by any real effort on his part.

Adrien as he is in the show doesn't do anything. And he doesn't need to do anything because he is at his base a character that things are done for. He doesn't have a goal or direction or drive. He just comes out to deal with akumas as needed, flirt with Ladybug when he can, and then be sad because his life is so hard when he doesn't get what he wants. We don't see him doing anything else. We don't see him making friends. We don't see him engaging in school. We don't even really see how he interacts with the classmates he only recently met. Things happen around him, but he is not a driving force in anything in the show.

But Felix in the PV is a very driving character. He had a problem: he's cursed. What does he need to break the curse? A kiss from Ladybug. What are the obstacles to his goal: Ladybug refusing to kiss him and Hawk Moth trying to kill her. How does he get that kiss? By flirting with her and trying to earn her affections while protecting her and making sure she doesn't DIE against an akuma before he gets that special curse-breaking kiss.

It's the start of Felix's journey. His goal and the various obstacles to that goal that make his story interesting and his growth possible. As such, I see him as a character who would progress in his attempts to obtain his goal as well as one who would progress the storyline...which is also accurate of 3D Felix since that's kind of what he's done more in his relatively few appearances than the series has in 5 seasons.

Adrien didn't have to have Felix's personality. He didn't have to have the same goals or level of drive. But he could still have had things where he grows and helps to push the plot forward.

Adrien...

...just started school. He has no friends, knows no one, and is trying to learn the ins and outs of public education. How is he doing in the different setting with teachers instead of tutors? How is he trying to get along with his classmates? Does he experience bullying? Does anyone NOT like him? What is he going through as a new student who had been homeschooled all his life?

...is friends with Chloe. What's it like learning his "only friend" is a bully? How do people respond to this? Does anyone (besides Marinette) fear him or avoid him because if he's friends with Chloe, he must be just like her?

...is a superhero. He could have been spending time learning the history of the ring and trying to develop his powers. Trying to get stronger? Trying to get to know Plagg? What is he experiencing as a highly known model who is also a superhero and having to juggle those dual identities?

...has a dead mom who died of a "mysterious illness". Given that this loss supposedly occurred about a year prior, he could still be mourning her. Maybe trying to learn what happened to her.

...has a neglectful father. How is he trying to interact with his dad? How does he feel about his dad not being around? What is he doing to try to resolve this?

...has a supervillain father. Like, I cannot stress this enough! His dad is a SUPERVILLAIN! His dad is THE SUPERVILLAIN THEY ARE FIGHTING! People were predicting him finding out and joining Gabriel to try and revive his mom! People were living for the eventual heartbreak of when Adrien finds out the truth! Entire AUs, fan arts, and fanfics were born of this very idea! Going into the drama and struggle Adrien would be experiencing being caught between the "right thing" and the girl he loves and his duty vs his father and his mother and his family. HOW CAN THEY JUST IGNORE THIS?!

But we don't get any of that. Instead, we get Adrien...

...just acclimated with no issues in school and automatically friends with everyone. Good for him, I guess. Wish it was that easy for the rest of us.

...doing little besides occasional comments to Chloe as she is completely horrible for five seasons including Chloe stealing from classmates, getting the entire school punished for something she did, stealing a Miraculous, trying to crash a train, and betraying the city to Hawk Moth. But it takes him learning about something she did to Marinette a year ago for him to finally decide enough is enough and drop her as a friend.

...only goes out to deal with akumas as they come but does nothing to try and figure out his powers and history, get stronger, or try to track Hawk Moth.

...just moves on from dead mom. No relevance here aside from wanting to see a movie she was in or making a passing comment about how she got sick. No attempt to find out what happened to her. No questioning what she may have wanted for him.

...is just sad about his neglectful father neglecting him but seems to get over it rather quickly.

...never learns his father is a supervillain. Okay, I take it back. He learns twice and those timelines are erased with no real repercussions other than trauma for Marinette, so it really doesn't feel like they count. The pieces are all there, though! He knows his dad has the grimoire but never questions him about it! Never asks his dad what the deal was with Tibet! No question about how mom died or what is going on with Nathalie or what he's doing with a hidden mechanism in mom's portrait.

Adrien has potential. He has plot threads and aspects that could be used and goals he could have. But the writing does nothing with him, so while he has a number of things he COULD do to move forward and progress as a character or for the plot, nothing comes of it.

And that all boils down to a problem with the writing.

Adrien was chosen over Felix as an "easier" option to keep the story at a standstill so they could drag it out for as long as needed. That doesn't mean it should have been. There were so many paths that could have been taken, but Adrien was given the personality of a wet noodle, so he acts on none of them because that was what the writers wanted out of his character.

#ml salt #adrien salt #ml writers salt #ml spoilers #ml analysis

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty Three - She-Devil

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: light smut, oral (fem!receiving)

Just as he said he would, Daniel took care of everything. He got Milo moved to the same school as Olivia and took him out for any extra supplies he might have needed.

Ever since he promised to take care of everything, Milo and his Momma had stayed at his house. It stirred something inside of Daniel, a need to have them there permanently. It certainly would be easier than her stopping off at their house to feed the cat when she took Milo to and from school

(For those of you worried about the cat, don't be. She was able to roam the house ad much as she liked. She could sleep anywhere, was jumping on the kitchen table (were she wasn't allowed) and, every time she was hungry, she had someone come and fill her bowl up).

On Milo's first day at the school, they drove them in together. She sat in the passenger seat, Daniels hand resting on her thigh as he drover the four of them to the school. It was his music playing through the speakers for the duration of the drive.

"How you feeling, Milo?" She asked as she looked in the rear view mirror.

Milo shrugged and she couldn't help but sigh. At least this time he'd have Olivia there with him.

Leaving Milo at the school gates was maybe one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She kissed his head as she said goodbye, fussing over him until Daniel gently pulled her away.

"He's gonna be fine," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Daniel drove her to work after that. Even if she hadn't expressed it, he knew just how nervous she was to go to work while Milo was at school. She was just expecting a phone call, a member of staff calling her to pick him up because he felt sick.

But she made it through the day without getting a phone call. There was a small part of her that was worried the school had called Daniel, taking Milo home without her knowledge.

Daniel picked her up from work. "I think we should get them McDonalds when we pick them up," said Daniel as she climbed into the passenger seat.

A grin split across her face. "You mean Milo stayed for the entire day?" She asked him.

Daniel nodded. "I didn't hear anything from the school."

They got the kids McDonalds before heading home (stopping to feed the cat on the way). As much as Daniel wanted to ask her to move in, he bit his tongue. He could wait just a little bit longer.

For the next week, Daniel took the kids to school while she took herself to work. When Daniel wasn't busy, he brought her some lunch, spending as much time with her as he could before his next Grand Prix.

A benefit of Daniels big house was the distance between the rooms. There was no way the kids could hear what was going on in their bedroom.

Daniel had her on the edge of the bed, on his knees in front of her with his face buried in her cunt. He had become an expert at using his tongue to bring wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her, until her body was convulsing and she was pushing him away with oversensitivity.

When she came so hard that her legs shook, Daniel crawled up her body and kissed her. He kissed down her neck and held her close until she was ready for him.

Sometimes it was a night long affair. Sometimes she lasted just three rounds, out of breath as Daniel ran the bath or started the shower for the two of them.

When Daniel went off to the Grand Prix on the Wednesday, Olivia went to stay with her mother. She didn't want to go, crossing her arms and pouting with furrowed brows as Daniel pulled up outside of her mothers house.

He'd given Y/N a key to the house, told her that she could stay while he was gone. She wanted to, she really kid, found comfort in the space that was his. But she couldn't didn't feel right about it. They weren't at that stage in their relationship.

So, she and Milo stayed in their house for the first time in a month.

Without Daniel there, she took Milo to school. She hadn't taken him to school since his first day, and she couldn't deny she was excited to again. Milo told his momma all about what he expected from the day ahead as she drove him.

"Danny normally stays in the car while Olivia and I get out," he said as his mother pulled into the car park.

"Oh?" His mother said as she pulled into a space. "Why, Milo?" She asked and killed the engine.

"Because we're cool," he answered and picked up his bag. He took a minute to look around the car park, spotted Olivia and climbed out of the car.

She had to sit and watch as he made his way over to his best friend. Her little munchkin was growing up. Olivia spotted her in the car and waved before she and Milo headed into the school. He finally looked happy.

But Olivia wasn't the only one that spotted her. She didn't see as Olivia's mother climbed out of her car and strode across the car park, fury written on her face. She muttered something under her breath and approached the car.

Part of Olivia's mother wanted to pull open the car door and yank Y/N out by her hair. But, instead, she knocked on the window.

Y/N rolled down the window, wearing as polite a smile as she could muster as she looked at Olivia's mother. "Hi, Kerry-Ann," she said to her, always remaining polite.

Kerry-Ann gave her as polite a smile as she began speaking. "I'm surprised to see you and your son here," she said and checked her sharp, talon-like nails. "I didn't think you'd be able to afford to send him somewhere like this."

She should have known this was coming. She looked down at her lap and back at Kerry-Ann. "Yeah, well, only the best for my son."

"Danny is paying for this, isn't he?" She asked suddenly. "He's paying for everything and you're just using him." Her tone was harsh, accusing, but she didn't bite. "You're fucking him for his money, aren't you?"

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "Come on now, Kerry-Ann. I'm not you."

"He doesn't love you!" She suddenly shouted. "He won't love you and he'll always put his career first. He did that to me and I'm the mother of his child."

Y/N sucked in a breath. Finally, she turned towards Kerry-Ann. "Get your hand off of my car, move away from my car and piss off," she said her voice low.

Surprisingly, Kerry-Ann did exactly as she said. She stepped away from the car, allowing Y/N to pull out of the parking space. "WHORE!" Kerry-Ann shouted at the top of her lungs.

Y/N drove away from the school. Her heart was beating so incredibly fast as she made her way to work. Even when she got to work, she couldn't concentrate, oh so angered by her interaction with Kerry-Ann.

Kerry-Ann hadn't said much to her. But the little things she had said had really gotten to her, riled her up to the point where she could barely work. Her co-workers noticed, but they didn't say anything, looking between each other as she completed far less work than she was supposed to.

Kerry-Ann was a bitch and she knew it. But she couldn't stop the doubt from creeping into her mind.

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long but we're nearly done with this series (maybe four or five more chapters to go). I'm considering eventually doing a series of one shots about their future, raising the kids, them as teenagers and things like that

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minseok-smaus @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Keeping up with the Bhangs

This is a one shot from the little series. Read it if you would like it’s on my master list :))

Warning: Angst

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Summary: Being a mum is hard when you have to constantly play good cop, bad cop.

**

"Chan?" She called for her husband. "Chan come look at what your daughter did!" Y/n called again. The sight infront of her was painful. Her little girl was stood in the middle of the room looking so innocent but she had created a huge train wreck around her. She couldn’t believe it.

She tried to keep her cool, she really did but she couldn’t. She heard the quiet footsteps making their way up towards their daughters room. Her anger was being tested and she felt like she was about to blow.

"What is it Y/n? I have a really important-" he paused when he looked up from his phone as he stared at the sight in front of him. "What the hell?" He let out a gasp.

The room was a mess. There was paint everywhere and crayons all over the wall. The collections of toys chan had gotten Soo-min where spread all over the place and her clothers (Soo-min) was covered in dirt, paint and crayons as she stood there looking innocent with the crayon in her hand. 

"Chan look what your daughter did!" Y/n raised her voice a little causing Soo-min to jump. She took little steps quickly to hide behind her father who was now standing fully in the room. It had been obvious she was scolded before this because her little hands were shaking and her lips were quivering.

Chans eyes soften as he loosened the tie that wrapped around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. He was determined to keep his wife calm and fix whatever was going on. If he had time of course.

"Hey, Y/n calm down. Don’t stress out baby. Its okay," He picked up his little girl with one hand trying to remove the paint of her face. Her eyes on the verge of tears as she pouted. "We can just get the cleaners to clean it-"

Chan being calm about the whole situation pissed of Y/n to the fullest because why was he so put together? Why was he such a good calm dad.

"Chan! you dont get it! this is not okay, she constantly disobeys, this is a huge mess! i left her for only a few minutes!" Y/n groaned frustrated as she threw the cups she had collected from the ground into a basket. 

"Y/n, its fine. She's a baby-" the glare Y/n gave him instantly made him shut up and look at his little girl that was basically holding onto his shirt for dear life. 

"M' sorry," Soo-min chocked on her sobs as tears started to spill and she Sniffed. She didn’t understand why her mum was being so scary. She only wanted to draw to make her happy cause she knew how sad she had been.

Chans heart melted at her little pout.

"Its okay mama, no need to cry. Daddy's got you," Chan wiped the tears from her cheeks and grabbed the crayon and paint brush from her tiny little hands. "Y/n look what you've done, now she's crying."

"Chan you cant honestly think this is okay-" Y/n was buffled. Chan didn't think this was okay, did he?

"she's a kid! kids make mistakes, she's still learning. You don't scold her, you teach her," His voice was now loud aswell. He was getting frustrated. He didnt want his children growing up in a toxic enviroment where they get yelled at or abused. That was his worst nightmare. 

“Then fine! You raise them if ur such a good teacher,”

“I don’t have time for this Y/n I have a big meeting coming-“

“Of course you fucking do, why don’t you just move into your office and abandon your kids and pregnant wife!”

Her blood was boiling. It was like she was getting everything off her chest and she needed it.

“Y/n that’s enough. Your acting like a child in front of her!” Chan growled. “You can’t even control this situation without calling and crying for me,” his chest was moving up and down as he was huffing. Trying so hard to control himself but he was stressed and tired and it was like she wanted to pick a fight every chance she got.

"Chan! why do you always have to be good cop. Why cant you see this is wrong? Stop being a bad parent and-'

"Bad parent?" He scoffs and looked up at her buffled, "I'm the bad parent? just cause you were abused when you were younger doesn't mean you have to put your trauma on my children..." His eyes go wide. He didn't mean it. He was just angry. He didn't mean any of it. 

The tension in the air wise thick. The shocked gasp that left her mouth was painful. Her head started to spin. Her eyes turning red as her body started to overheat. The emotions she felt were overwhelming. A panic attack was coming on. Her eyes landed on her daughter, the little girl was covering her ears trying to cover her face in her fathers chest. Was she a monster?

"Papa? no fighting," The little girl squealed as she still continued to cover her ears. This made Y/n's heart break. was it true? was she becoming her toxic mother. 

 "It's okay mama," He comforted her shivering body, "I-Im going to get her changed so i can go back to my meeting. I'll tell the maids to come clean up," he so badly wanted to hold his wife and apologize but with the way she stood in one place he knew he couldn't have the conversation, well not right now. 

The door closed behind him as her little girls sniffles slowly faded in the distance. Y/n was in shock. Her brain was taking long to react. Her hands were cold and all of a sudden she couldnt hear anything around her.

Was she the problem? Was she being hard on the kids? she never yelled at any of them unless they did something horrible, she never intended for the father of her kids to call her toxic. To embarrass her like that.

It was too much, she was done playing tough guy. she was tired of the constant fight of depression. She was tired of her husband degrading her as she stayed home while he was out all night partying doing God knows what. 

She wanted her life back. she wanted to be fun again. She didnt want to be tired all the time. She was tired of being pregnant.

Her face felt wet. Her hands automatically covering her eyes. Heart wrenching sobs leaving her body as she placed a hand on her belly. The doubt of being a mother was creeping back up. The sudden urge to run away and dissapear haunted her conscious. Truth is she was tired of the fake smiles and the big parties and important business people.

Yes, she loved the big house her husband built for them, she loved the grand cars and the golden credit cards but she wanted to feel again. She wanted to be loved again. By her husband. She wanted to be a teenager again, falling in love and being young and free.

She laid on the called floor. Her arms supporting the heavy bump she was carrying. The tiled sending shivers down her spine. The tears still spilling from her eyes until eventually she grew tired and fell asleep.

#skz imagines #skz comfort #skz x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz drabbles #skz stay #stray kids drabbles #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #bangchan #stray kids angst #stray kids as boyfriend material #straykids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #straykids

[macfrog]

company cowboy like me chapter six

lfg i am so happy to finally be back writing!!! here's a new part of cowboy like me to celebrate - you can also catch parts one thru five over on my masterlist 🤍 love u all lmk ur thoughts whose side are we on with the argument? 😏

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel and his hands help you feel better after an argument with your dad

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! shower fun, handjob, fingering, bit of comeplay, like, allusions to exhibitionism?? not rly tho, dom!joel, unprotected p in v sex (i do not condone it unless it is fictional), praise kink, overstimulation, begging, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, grilled cheese consumption (for all my lactose intolerant babies i got u)

word count: 8.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.” He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm. “Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.” “No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”

The birds singing. A car passing by on the street outside. The dull buzz of the shower running, and the gentle humming of the man standing in it. Whichever one wakes you first, you don’t much care. Your eyes have fluttered open to find the bathroom door half-open, the steamed-up shower right ahead of you.

You can see his silhouette moving around. Hands raising to rub shampoo into his hair. Dipping to push soap suds down the trail from his belly button. You’re half-naked in his bed, still sore from your antics from the night before, and he’s winding that coil all over again. Just from showering.

You push yourself off the bed with a groan. Your thighs burn as you move them; between your legs feels just as tender. His t-shirt hangs off you.

You slowly wander over to the bathroom door and pause to listen. It’s one of his country songs he’s always playing in the truck. And this man swears he ain’t a country fan.

Your head leans against the doorframe. One gentle push and he’ll know you’re right here.

The t-shirt comes off in one swift movement, and in you go.

“Mornin’, baby,” he coos as you walk over the threshold. When he peers around the steamed-up glass, he notices your lack of clothing, and mumbles an Oh as you step inside.

“What time does Sarah’s flight get in?” you ask innocently. His eyes are making their way slowly down your figure.

“An–” He clears his throat. “An hour.”

“You got time, then?”

He smirks as you soak yourself under the hot stream of water, and says, “Always got time for you.”

Your hands cup his strong jaw and pull him down to you. He obliges, lips parting to crash against yours. Tongues twisting and curling around one another, hands squeezing and scratching and stroking bodies. His palms find your tits and he squeezes, pulling a moan from your lips.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he murmurs against your lips.

You smile back into the kiss, replying, “It’s all your fault.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” your hand starts travelling south, “got – me – fuck – all ruined.”

Joel’s already hard when your hands take hold of him. Like, fucking hard. So hard you actually look down as you grip him with both hands, awestruck by how quickly he’s turned on. When you look back up, a cocky smile fills his cheeks.

“Get goin’ then. I ain’t got all mornin’.”

“Fuck you.” You drag your hand up his length.

“That’s what I got you for,” he breathes, leaning his head back against the tile, eyes closing.

This is the part you like. Sure, Joel’s hot when he’s being dominant, fucking you senseless, whispering filth in your ear, even just the way his hands grip your body. But this – when he’s under your hand, right where you want him, right where he wants to be. This is it for you.

Watching him unravel at your touch, the way you squeeze him, pull him, take care of him; your words, sweet and smooth as honey in his ear, asking how good it feels, telling him how good he looks, peppering wet kisses down his neck and across his chest; and then, when he’s close, the way he pants and takes hold of your wrist, telling you without speaking exactly how to fuckin’ get him there.

When you feel his hips buck, you sink to your knees and hold the head of his cock on your tongue. He tilts his head to look down at you, mouth agape, hand on the back of your head. You stroke his length a few more times, the tip swirling over your pink lips, before he grunts, releasing all over your tongue, watching as you take every last drop.

“Good girl…” he whispers, over and over until he goes limp. You never take your eyes off of him as you lick your lips and swallow. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

When he comes down from his high, Joel takes your hands and pulls you back up to stand. He lazily bumps his nose against yours and then pulls you in, filling your mouth with his tongue. He groans into the kiss, tangling his hand in your hair, tasting himself on you.

“You know how good you are to me?”

Your face lights up when you look up at him. You could almost say something you think you’d regret afterward. When the wave of bravery washes down the drain with the water from above, you settle for your usual cocky teasing: “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”

He laughs and turns you gently so your back is to him. He shifts your wet hair out of the way, and then begins to massage your shoulders. His hands drop down your arms, squeezing and rubbing, then back up, feeling their way over your breasts and down your stomach.

“Gonna make you feel nice ‘n better, after last night.”

Your lips fall open, silently begging him not to stop, to keep going further down, to fuck you with his fingers against the cool tile.

You forget he’s a mind reader. He’s already doing it before your thought is done.

Fingers run over your clit, already sensitive and swollen, and you gasp.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he whispers in your ear.

Your head falls back to his shoulder with a moan, and he kisses your neck, sucking softly on the sensitive spots that were between his teeth last night. His fingers rub you gently.

“So pretty for me, baby.”

You can feel your legs starting to give, but his free arm wraps around your waist, holding you up so that, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t collapse.

His fingers dip lower still, parting your lips, running through your folds. He’s so good, you think you might be dreaming. Then he inserts a curled finger and you know for sure, this is no dream.

“Joel…”

You squirm under his touch, and it only pushes him further. A second finger, stretching you out more, pressing up against the soft, spongey insides of your pussy. You grip onto his arm snaked around your waist with one hand, place the other against the tile to steady yourself.

“Doin’ so good, baby, that’s it. Just like that.” His voice is as smooth as whiskey in your ear, the drawl of his accent sending you as far as the fingers hooked inside your cunt.

Your breathing starts to stammer, your stomach tightening with your orgasm fast approaching. Joel inserts a third finger, making you cry out, and your head knocks into his shoulder again. Pleasure sparks between your legs, the weight of you riding on Joel’s hand, fire igniting through every nerve in your body.

“‘attagirl, all over me,” Joel coaches you through it, his other hand forced to let go of your waist to steady you both against the wall as your release doubles you over.

You come back to earth; stars in your vision, feeling the weight of him on your back, protecting you from the spray of water from the shower, chin still dipped over your shoulder.

“We’re good at this,” he whispers, and you give a blissful smile. “One day they’ll make a movie about us.”

You come back to reality with a hearty laugh, turning back around slowly. Joel’s arms snake around your waist and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Maybe one day we could do that ourselves,” you tease.

He gives a smile which means more than it looks. You’re a mind reader, too. He likes that idea. He’s…considering it.

“I gotta go,” Joel says after some time.

You nod.

He follows you out of the shower and hands you the towel he’d sat on the counter for himself, dripping off to the linen closet in the hallway for another while you pat yourself dry. You scoop up his shirt and throw it over yourself, laying back down on his bed to wait for him finishing up getting ready.

Another thing you love doing: watching him. Whether he’s driving, grabbing a beer from the fridge, or just getting dressed like right now, you like to watch him. Study him. Know him better than he knows himself.

He doesn’t typically let you watch him do much – his hands are usually all over you with the precious little time you two get together – and when he clocks you staring over at him as he buckles his belt, he snorts.

“Besotted, ain’tcha?”

He stands at the foot of the bed. You say nothing back. Then he begins crawling up, knees apart to climb over your legs, and crouches over you as you giggle.

His head drops down to give you one last meaningful kiss before you know he has to leave. When you part, his forehead leans against yours.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” he softly says.

You don’t have a reply. At least, not one you want him to hear. Yet.

“Go pick up Sarah. I’ll be gone when you come back.”

He stands, and you take his offered hand to pull yourself up from the bed.

“Don’t have to be. I’ll tell her you wanted to surprise her.”

You shake your head. “I got work later anyways. And y’all deserve some time alone to catch up. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Okay, darlin’,” he says in a mocking baby tone, pouting his lips. Pulls you in for a quick squeeze. Then turns and wanders off down the hall to the top of the stairs.

“How will you cope without being the center of my attention?” he calls back.

You smile to yourself and watch as his figure disappears. You stand on his carpet, still, silent, until the front door shuts and his truck engine hums in the drive.

Your eyes travel around his room. His unmade bed, one big dip in the middle of the mattress where your bodies had been pressed together, limbs intertwined, sharing breath. The small pile of your clothes Joel had laid out as you dozed, neatly tucked on a dresser, your phone laying on top. A framed photo of him and Sarah on his windowsill that makes your chest tighten when your eyes find it.

You turn away and start getting ready, picking up your clothes one by one. Your panties are missing – not that they’d be much use anyways, the last state you saw them in. It’d be hot to go commando if you thought Joel might find out; less hot when you’re just about to head off on a walk of shame back to your dad’s.

You wander around to Joel’s nightstand and roll the drawer open. Pick up a pair of white boxers and pull them on. As you leave, you throw his tee over your elbow.

He won’t notice it’s gone, right?

----------

You’re perched on your window seat, watching the quiet street below. It’s been two days since you last saw Joel, strolling down his hallway to go pick up Sarah. You’d been working the past couple days anyway, but your mind had been elsewhere.

You and Joel weren’t able to see each other for obvious reasons, but he was always at the end of the phone whenever you were bored and wanted attention. Truthfully, you’d spent every waking minute hanging over your cell, waiting for it to light up with a message or call from him.

You unlock it and scroll through the last few texts you’d exchanged.

Joel: Decorations were a hit. Should be all over Instagram or whatever

You: You’re welcome ;)

Joel: Don’t I get any credit?

You: You can take the credit for blowing my back out afterward. Let me have the decs

Joel: Fair.

You smile, reading back over the messages. You’d been trying not to bother him so much now that Sarah was back, but you’re struggling to find anything to distract your thoughts from him. What he’s up to, where he is, who he’s with…and not even in a jealous way. Just…because you miss him.

That’s the weird part. Missing him.

Sure, for the last two weeks, anytime your hands have been on your body, it’s Joel’s name passing your lips in breathy moans. But missing the sound of his voice? The smell of him?

That’s new. That’s weird.

There’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

Your dad nudges in, toolbox in hand. “Hey, hon. Just thought I’d have a look at that latch on your window that keeps catchin’.”

“Oh,” you say, shifting from your seat. “Sure. Thanks.”

He sets the toolbox at the end of your bed, and you shift some cushions and blankets to sit beside it. As he’s digging through his tools, he glances up and notices the men’s large t-shirt laying strewn across your pillows.

“New shirt?” he asks.

You look over your shoulder. Fuck.

“Texas Rangers.” Your dad raises his eyebrows, nodding. “Impressed.”

“Yeah, I– I, uh…” You’re scrambling for some excuse, words tripping over one another in the scram to explain. “Got it at a thrift store the other day. It’s nice to sleep in, I guess.”

He hums and then turns, completely oblivious. “Might head over to Joel’s once I’ve done this, since I got the tools out. He has some pipe in his bathroom he reckons is leakin’. You wanna come? See Sarah for a bit?”

“Maybe…” you hum, not really listening. You’re typing a message out to Joel.

You: My dad just totally spotted your shirt on my bed…

Joel: So you’ve got my shirt? I was looking all over for it.

You: Is it really that much of a surprise? Had to say I’d thrifted it

Joel: Offended by the fact you wanted him to believe anyone would throw out a Rangers shirt

You: Well, he believed it, so what does that tell you, cowboy?

Joel: Given what we know your dad’s oblivious to right now, not a lot, kid

You: Speaking of, when can I see you?

Joel: Tough right now with Sarah being home. Sorry baby. Soon as we can, I promise.

You throw yourself back onto your bed with a sigh.

“Boy trouble?” your dad asks.

“Huh?” You sit up straight. What…the fuck?

He chuckles, messing around with the window, his back turned to you. “Awfully big sigh. I know that sigh. Who is he?”

If Joel were in the room right now, he’d be masking his laughter behind a closed fist at the mere sight of your face. You stare at your dad’s back for a decent amount of time, long enough for him to turn back and look at you.

“You hearin’ me?” he asks. “It someone I know? It ain’t your friend Sam from Frank’s, is it? That boy don’t know his hand from his foot at the best ’a times. You can do better than him.”

“It ain’t a boy. And I appreciate the advice, but I’m good, Dad.”

“Speakin’ of advice…” He walks slowly over to the bed, switching out some tools. “I got this supplier whose daughter works in human resources at…uh…some company, downtown. Name escapes me. He was tellin’ me it’s good money, lotta hours…Said she’d be happy to meet with you if you wanted to go in for an interview.”

“I…I’m okay, I think. Thanks, though.”

“Sure? I thought maybe you’d wanna be lookin’ for something a little more…permanent.”

“I will,” you reply, glancing down at your phone. No new messages. “I just…I’m happy at Sal’s right now.”

“Right, right. And Sal’s been real good to you, kiddo.”

“I kinda wanna see what I can get with my degree anyway.”

Your thumbs dance over the keyboard, still hunting for attention from Joel, and searching for the right words to get it. You’re barely even present in the room with your dad when you hear him ask, “Film? You really think there’s gonna be much out there?”

Your head whips up. He’s sauntering back over to the window. Your phone lands with a thud on your bed beside your thigh.

“Uh…I don’t know. ‘s why I wanna look.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

He shakes his head, screwing something into your window frame. “Naw, I just…don’t know what you’re gonna find, is all.” He chuckles a little. Kinda chuckle that makes your fists ball.

You watch him through thin eyes, pulling your bottom lip under your teeth. “Well, I got Sal’s to keep me goin’ until I do find somethin’.”

Your dad doesn’t reply. You stare him down until he turns around, notices you, and raises his brows, forehead crinkling.

When he dives back into the toolbox instead of responding, you start to feel heat in your belly.

You speak through your teeth. “Is that…Is it okay?”

“Sure, hon. I ain’t tellin’ you what to do.”

“Well, you ain’t tellin’ me much else, though, so…”

“I’m only thinking,” he lifts his palms, your eyes trace them, “your degree is very specific. And there maybe isn’t a lot of specific work down this way for somethin’ like film. That’s all. I thought HR might be a good move.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s closing over the metal lid.

“Then why’d I go through four years of studying it?”

“Because it interested you. And because you were good at it–”

“So, shouldn’t I be doin’ something with it?”

“–but ultimately, hon, a degree’s just a degree, you understand?”

Your face screws up, lip curled. “Huh?”

“Lotta folks don’t got a degree. Lotta folks get one, and it goes to waste. They spend all that money, all that time…and work part-time in some dead-end job for the rest of their lives. Chasin’ a career that’s never comin’.”

You choke back a laugh, a stunned, confused, livid laugh. Your lips tremble and twist in and out of different shapes, trying to form words that your voice won’t speak.

“You worked damn hard to get that degree. Now, use it. Use it right.”

He slaps the toolbox closed and starts trotting out of your room, and you find your voice.

“Oh, screw you!”

Your dad’s hand hooks around the doorframe and he turns back. “Pardon me?”

“What fuckin’ right do you have to tell me I’m gonna end up in a dead-end job? Ain’t a job a job?”

“Woah, kiddo,” he holds a hand out, “no, no, that’s not what I’m sayin’. Not at all.”

“You’re saying I should give up tryna get a job I actually want, and get a real job, right? That– That film ain’t much of a thing? I worked my ass off for nothin’?”

“No, you worked your ass off for everything, and you deserve to find somethin’ that rewards all your hard work.”

“Oh, what the fuck does that even mean?” You throw your arms up, striding across the room.

He shakes his head with a sigh. “It means – I just want what’s best for you. I was just thinkin’ out loud, honey. That’s all.”

In one sweep, he’s gone. The toolbox rattles down the hall and recedes into background noise. You’re stood in a cloud of rage at your door, breath coming hard and fast out of your nose, staring at the empty hallway before you.

You stalk over to your bed and your thumbs finally figure out what to send to Joel.

You: Are you free to talk real quick??

He’s calling you within thirty seconds.

“What’s up?” his voice speaks before you even open your mouth, and instantly you feel yourself calming.

“Are you eating?”

“Mhm. Grilled cheese.”

You can hear the chewing sounds through the receiver.

“You mind swallowing before you talk?”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles a little, then clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just…” You sigh. “Fuck…I don’t even know.”

Your head falls into one hand as you pace back and forth.

“I had this argument with my dad; he’s goin’ on about careers and jobs and using my degree – but to do somethin’ I don’t wanna do. Then, he’s makin’ out like I’ll never find a job in film, or in anything I want. And he said that– He basically said that I’ll be in a dead-end job forever, ‘less I go work in human resources.”

Joel’s quiet for a few seconds until he realizes you’re done. “’sec, baby, I got a mouthful of grilled cheese over here.”

You roll your eyes and, after a gulp, his voice floats back through your phone.

“He wants you to– Human resources, I hear that right?”

“Yup. He says it’s a good place to be, apparently.”

“Your dad, the contractor?”

You throw your arm up in the air again. “Thank you!”

Joel and his laughter cut you short before you start another rant.

“Alright, alright, first of all…you already got a job, and it’s a good, steady job; you like it, you’re happy enough there, right?”

“Mhm,” you agree.

“Mhm. So that’s not an issue. Second, you’re twenty-three. That’s still young, darlin’. You got your whole life to try and find somethin’ you really like. Hell, I didn’t figure it out until I had Sarah. You got time. Don’t worry about it.

“And third: who gives a fuck what your dad thinks? If you’re happy, what’s it matter what him or anyone else says?”

You nod, sitting down on your bed. Your eyes are starting to well.

“Hm?” Joel beckons.

“Yeah,” you squeak.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little mind, baby. It was just an argument. He wants what’s best for you, ‘n if I know him half as well as I do, he just got his words a little jumbled up.”

“I’m still fuckin’ mad at him, though,” you mumble.

Joel laughs. “Yeah. ‘n I reckon you’re allowed to be, for a little bit.”

“Thanks. Sorry for interruptin’ you ‘n your grilled cheese.”

“’s alright. I gotta make you one of these next time you’re over here, I’m a master at ‘em. Sarah’s favorite.”

You lay back on your bed, giggling. “I’m gonna hold you to that, y’know.”

“Oh, I know, kid. Hey, I was actually thinking of dropping by tomorrow mornin’, got some papers your dad wants to take a look at. Figured I’d catch ‘im before he goes off to work.”

You feel your heart swell just at the thought of him being in front of you, actually in person, standing right there. Cotton-covered chest to be touched, worked hands to be held, rough but gentle lips to be kissed.

Hard cock to be – never mind.

“Yeah?” you say, coolly, trying not to let him in on the butterflies swirling around your stomach.

“Yep. Better be awake. I’ll want my t-shirt back.”

“Setting my alarm as we speak.”

----------

You’re in the kitchen making breakfast when you hear the front door open, and an all too familiar Texas drawl.

“Anybody home?”

You lean back from the counter and stare down the hallway toward the door, which he closes and turns to face you.

“Hello, darlin’.”

“Hi,” you mutter, smiling.

“Dad in?”

You nod. “Upstairs. Getting ready.”

His fingers tug on your t-shirt sleeve. His t-shirt sleeve.

“Nice shirt.”

You give a bashful smile, but he’s grinning. The fucker loves seeing you in his clothes as much as you love wearing them. He doesn’t care.

Joel sets his papers on the countertop and runs a hand through your hair, sweeping it out of your face. You lean into his touch by instinct, then catch yourself, and move away, but Joel stays where he is.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Mhm. Want some cereal?”

He smiles, shaking his head, then lowers his chin and softly presses his lips to yours.

Your hands drop the box like it’s scorching hot, and link around his neck. He pushes against you, pinning you to the counter.

If it weren’t for the thudding of your dad’s footsteps down the stairs right then, you’d probably ask Joel to fuck you right here and now in your kitchen. You’re that needy.

“Hey, partner,” your dad calls when he notices Joel, now standing a good four feet away from you, papers back in his fist.

You pour some milk in the bowl and lean back against the island, cereal in hand.

“Brought that paperwork.” Joel lifts his fist, and your dad nods gratefully.

“Hey,” your dad says, turning to you and knocking your shoulder with his index finger. “Here’s the number of that guy’s daughter I was talkin’ about…”

You take a deep breath, studying the card in his hand, the name Vanessa Hart printed below some logo. Joel notices your expression when your dad holds it out between two fingers. He knows y’all fought – though he’s not meant to – but he doesn’t know you two haven’t spoken since. You ate dinner in your room alone last night.

The look in your eye catches him up just fine.

“What’s this?” Joel asks, returning the papers to the counter behind you and taking the business card from your dad’s hand. He tosses it over before passing to you. You wordlessly take it, sliding your bowl alongside his paperwork.

“She’s been thinkin’ about work. Lookin’ around for somethin’ a little more…challenging, than retail anyway. Right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Right.”

Joel looks at you intently. Knowingly. “Thought you wanted to be a journalist, or something? Film…? No?”

You glance up at him. “I, um…”

“This is maybe somethin’ a little more realistic, y’know.” Your dad shifts from foot to foot, almost awkwardly.

“She got a degree in film,” Joel mutters, almost leaning into you to make you answer. Your eyes travel along to his shoulder. “You like film, right?”

“I like film. Yeah. It was good.”

“So, you don’t wanna do somethin’ with that?”

Your shoulders tense as you look up at him, trying to answer him honestly and at the same time, stop another heated discussion from happening between you and your dad, who then initiates that discussion himself by piping up.

“What’s Sarah doin’, again, Joel?”

You wince, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Sports Science.” Joel’s voice feels dangerous. He’s still staring at you. Vanessa’s card is beginning to tremble in your hands as you flip it over and over.

“See? Now, that, I would understand. That’s a great degree. Not that yours isn’t,” your dad shoots you a look as he’s packing his lunch into his bag, “just that, with Sports Science, I mean…she could do lotsa stuff.”

“I could do lots with film, too, Dad.” You try to mask the anger through your teeth.

“Like what?”

Joel sighs under his breath. Your eyes dart across his. You take a deep breath, steady yourself.

“Like…journalism, or production, or promotion. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“I’m just tryna look out for you, kiddo, just tryna be realistic. Like I said last night, there aren’t so many opportunities in that sorta stuff down here. Fine, up in New York, but in Austin? Nah.”

“Maybe you just gotta move back to New York. I’ll come with ya,” Joel says, shrugging, with an expression that elicits a laugh from you. He looks relieved to see you smile.

Your dad clears his throat and takes a step closer to you. Your smile fades as quickly as it appeared.

“I just want what’s best for you. The arts…ain’t really a steady job. Somethin’ like Sports Science, see, now, that’s safe. That’s a good choice.”

“A good choice,” you echo, your face flushing. “So, mine wasn’t a good choice?”

“No, it’s just that–”

“Why are we havin’ this same conversation again, Dad?” You throw the card behind you on the counter. “I said I’d do my own thing, in my own time, and you come up with even more to shove in my damn face. You can’t just leave it? Not even for one day?”

“Aw, c’mon, hon, film? Tell me what you found, lookin’ for jobs in film. Go on.”

Joel’s head cocks and he holds a hand out. “Alright, that’s enough.”

“No, tell me. I’m seriously askin’. What did you find? ‘cause I’ve been lookin’, kiddo–”

You scoff. “Oh, you’ve been looking.”

“Yes, I have, which seems to be a damn sight more ‘n you’ve done, and there ain’t nothin’. Now, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I thought I was doin’ a good thing. Thought you’d appreciate me helpin’ out.”

“Sure. I appreciate you steppin’ foot where you ain’t wanted. And then insulting me while you’re at it.”

Your dad sighs and lifts his arms, bringing them down onto his thighs with a clap. Then he picks his bag up, slings it over his shoulder, and turns back to you.

“I just wanted to help. I’m gone, alright? Joel, thanks for those, I’ll take a look when I’m home.”

Without another word, he strides down the hall and heads out the front door.

Joel’s hand immediately wraps around your arm.

“Hey,” he says when you turn away, tears forming. “Woah, hey. It’s alright.”

He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head, and you bury your face into his shirt, groaning with rage. He rubs the back of your head and hushes you as you weep into his chest.

He pulls away, cupping your chin and pushing the hair out of your face. You’re still bubbling away, Joel’s thumbs wiping away tears hot with anger from your cheeks.

“I’m not crying ‘cause I’m upset,” you sniff, and he nods, softly caressing your face. “I’m crying ‘cause I’m fuckin’ angry.”

“I know, baby,” he fusses. “He’s bein’ an ass, no doubt about that.”

“I told you.” You ball your fists and lightly bump them against his strong chest. “Fuckin’ dick.”

“Fuckin’ dick,” Joel agrees, and you laugh. “Tell me what to do to make you feel better.”

You lean back, Joel’s hand locked around yours to stop you from falling. A dark thought crosses your mind, and you do your best not to let it show through your eyes. Joel seems oblivious when he reels you in and your hands come to rest on his pecs.

“I dunno,” you mumble, eyes stuck on the fabric of his shirt.

“Must be somethin’. What do you want me to do?”

“Just…stick around for a bit? Keep me company.”

“Company, huh? What’s that entail?”

“We could…watch a movie?” Your fingers flirt with the collar of his open shirt. “…could…talk…?”

Joel studies you as you slowly peel the button-up from his shoulders, letting it rest on his biceps.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, realizing where you’re at, “I got stuff I should be doin’ today.”

“I know. Just…make me feel better first.”

He sighs, looking at you from beneath his brows. His shirt is hanging from his elbows, his palms planted firmly against your waist. His hands are squeezing you just enough to encourage you to keep going.

“Won’t be long. Promise. You can have your shirt back, after it.”

You angle your jaw and smile sweetly at him, and he lowers his to meet you halfway. Your breath hot against his lips, you whisper, “’s not like either of us are gonna last longer than five minutes, anyway,” and he closes the space between you.

When your lips connect, Joel pushes off the counter and begins backing you toward the couch.

“I love,” you breathe into the kiss, “when you do that.”

“Do what?” he mutters back, lifting the hem of your top.

You fall back onto the couch and Joel follows.

“Give in to me.”

He pulls back, eyes skimming across your half-naked body, t-shirt ruffled up to the bottom of your bare breasts.

“That’s all I do, baby.”

You open your legs beneath him and his hips slot between yours, hardening jeans rubbing against your sleep shorts. His tongue leaves wet marks down your neck and across your collarbone, hands creeping further up your naked torso.

When you buck your hips, Joel understands, and takes the waist of your shorts in tight fists, pulling them off your legs in one movement. His hand comes down to cup your sex and shift your underwear aside. He’s moving without thinking; it’s instinct by this point. He knows exactly what to do to get you where he wants you.

His fingers move around your folds, dancing in and out of your entrance, rubbing your clit. It’s not enough. It’s never fucking enough. You whine, and he listens again, slipping two fingers inside your wet cunt.

Your back arches, chest rising to meet his. A sigh of relief passes your lips, finally feeling his body on – and in – yours again.

“We– I don’t wanna– fucking hell, Joel– I can’t wait this long for you,” you whimper, as he dips his jaw to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Hm?”

“Too – fucking – long. I need you – all the fuckin’ time.”

He’s humming against your hot skin. Your fingers are knotting in his hair, dark brown flecked with streaks of gray tangled around your knuckles.

His fingers burrow deeper, stretching your wet pussy out just right. You clench around him.

“Need you,” you breathe again, “all the time.”

“You got me, pretty girl,” Joel coos, lips now dancing across yours. “I’m here now.”

Your foreheads lock like they always do, Joel’s eyes trained on yours like they always are. He fucking loves watching you, loves the way your eyes glaze over and you submit to whatever he wants to do to you. I started it, and I know how to finish it.

His thumb begins to rub your clit, pad drawing circles around and round. Your hips lift again in response, and you feel a smirk pull on Joel’s lips. You’re writhing under his touch, the entire room filling with filthy moans of his name and of yours, tangling together in the air and knotting as tight as the pressure building in your stomach.

You reach down and begin to unbuckle his belt, hands weaving around Joel’s wrist to gain access to his jeans. Your fingers graze the rough teeth of his zipper when you hear something outside.

The sound of a car door slamming.

Your lips freeze against Joel’s. His hand stops dead against your core.

“Was that–?”

The front door bursts open and the hallway fills with the early morning light.

Joel heaves himself off of you, scarpering to the other side of the room as you straighten up, slam your sensitive legs closed and kick your shorts under the couch. Your tee is long enough to cover your thighs, only if you stay seated.

Your dad rounds the corner to the room just as you both assume position.

“Joel still around? His truck’s– Oh, hey, bud. What the hell you still doin’ here?”

Joel clears his throat. “She, uh– She said somethin’ was up with the TV. Bad signal or somethin’, right?”

“Right.” You nod almost furiously.

Your dad blinks. Looks from you, to Joel, to the TV behind him. Which is switched off.

You toe the line between still mad at your dad, and wanting to appear totally innocent. “Joel was just having a look. He, uh…switched it off.”

“Waitin’ for it to reboot.” Joel sways back to hold a steady – slick-covered – hand to the TV set. You wince as he notices your gleaming wet coating his fingers, unreadable expression on his face, and calmly holds them behind his back.

“That so?” your dad says, pouting his lips. “I didn’t notice anything last night.”

Joel doesn’t reply, instead choosing to let the moment pass in awkward silence until your dad changes the subject. Joel knows him better than most, and it works in the end, but you wish he’d just fucking say something to take your mind off of the hand he’s currently hiding behind his back and your shorts disturbing the dust under the couch.

“Left my hardhat,” your dad says, almost flatly. “You seen it, kiddo?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“You wanna help me look?”

Right now? With no pants on? And your best friend stood less than six feet away? You know what, I’m good, Dad.

“Not really.”

He sighs and shakes his head to Joel, a Can you believe her?

Joel sputters out a forced chuckle, which he cuts short when he notices your sharp glare in his direction.

When your dad disappears upstairs, you fish your shorts out and throw them on.

“That,” Joel leans into you, motioning to where your dad was just standing, “was too damn close, you hear?”

“How was I supposed to know he’d come back?” you hiss.

“If we’re–” another flappy hand movement between the two of you, “y’know, we gotta be on alert for any–”

“We–” you mimic his gesture, “thought we had an empty house. If he walks in on somethin’, then that’s–”

“Don’t tell me that’s on him, kid.” Joel tilts his head, inviting you to finish your sentence with something more sensible. Before you can answer, your dad calls out.

“Got it!”

His boots thud back down the stairs.

You and Joel spring back to your positions, an unassuming two meters of carpet separating you both. Your dad stands at the opposite end of the coffee table, holding his hardhat up like it’s a trophy.

“Alright,” you clap your hands, “see ya, then.”

You brush past him toward the kitchen, feigning grabbing a drink. In your wake, you hear him mumble something to Joel about you not forgiving him just yet. Joel doesn’t laugh.

Eventually, he doddles off to the door, and Joel slowly follows. You hear the click of the door handle, and the hallway floods with light again, tile floor painted with Joel’s silhouette. When the sound of the engine trudges off into the distance, the door slams shut, and his figure materializes beside you once again.

You’re holding a bottle of water against your lips. Not drinking. Joel takes the bottle and sets it down on the counter.

He doesn’t speak. Barely even looks at you. Just takes your waist and hoists you up onto the kitchen counter. It’s cold under your bare thighs, but he lifts your knees and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, slipping them off for the second time in, what, ten minutes?

You sit still and watch him, stood between your legs, looking you up and down. His gaze falls to his still soaked fingers, and with a blank expression, like it’s as normal as passing you the sauce over dinner, he lifts his hand.

“Wanna clean up your mess for me?”

He presses the pads of his fingers to your bottom lip. Asks you without words to part them.

Your mouth falls open, not because you tell it to, but because his words pour a fog over your entire body that dumbs you senseless. That same intoxicating drawl, the way his head tilts with every perfectly innocent question laced with just the right amount of filth to have you do whatever the fuck he tells you.

He pushes his fingers into your mouth, resting them on your tongue.

“Now, pretty girl. Put that mouth to good use.”

“Joel–” you mumble into his knuckles, but he shushes you.

“Clean. Them.”

In a fluttering haze, you close your mouth around his thick fingers and suck, tongue slipping over them, under, between. Joel watches almost dangerously, like a wild animal watching its prey. He’s focused entirely on your wet lips, the way they’re bobbing up and down over his knuckles.

His fingers are sweet, coated in your thick arousal, and when you loosen your jaw, he pushes them in further. Almost chokes you with the way he forces them back. His eyes are dark, clouded over by the way your pretty little mouth looks. The way it feels, choking and spitting all over him.

When your eyes close over, his free hand comes up to cup the back of your head.

“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter back open; light seeps into your vision and chases everything but the man between your legs out of focus.

You can’t taste yourself on him anymore. He tastes like Joel again. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers hit the back of your throat, and he only withdraws them when you gag.

He slips out, soaked in your saliva, and his wet hand falls back to place on your thigh.

You’re breathing heavily, drool dripping from your lips, but you know for a fucking fact if you move to wipe it, he’ll stop you.

His grip on the back of your neck tightens suddenly.

“You wanna act like a little whore? You get treated like one.”

His hand moves to his waistband and he undoes his own belt, batting away your fingers when you try to help.

He lets you link your arms over his shoulders as he messily unzips his jeans, tugging them down only a little. His rough hand grabs your knee and hooks it over his elbow, opening your legs wide for him.

“J…”

“Shut up.”

Now’s not the time for talking. He’s got a glassy expression in his eye that you don’t recognize. He doesn’t want to fucking talk. He wants you to make him cum.

“Wanted me to fuck you on your dad’s couch, huh? Wanted to make a mess in his livin’ room?”

“Mhm,” you whine, and he lifts your ass up to bring a hand down on it. Shut up.

“’n what if he’d walked in a few minutes later than he did? Saw the pair of us? That what you want?”

You bite your lip and look at him under hooded lids; answer enough. Nah, you didn’t want your dad to see you guys. But, fuck, you liked the thought of being caught.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he’s murmuring, lining up to your cunt, pre-cum soaking the reddened tip of his cock. You’re staring at it, mesmerized, mind totally blanked by it.

“Look at you,” he whispers roughly, “drunk on it, aren’t you darlin’? You want it inside you?”

You nod, but it doesn’t matter. The slightest movement of your head and he’s pushing inside you, stretching your tight hole around the thick head of his cock.

Joel groans and his head falls back, eyes on the ceiling. He makes it halfway in before he’s pulling back again.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Shut – the fuck – up,” he replies, hips pushing forward into yours again.

You bite back a whine as he pushes further and further, filling you up, pain and pleasure and fucking bliss rippling through you, driven by Joel.

He wastes no time letting you adjust, no long, slow strokes. No tender kisses or fingers guiding his dick in. He picks up a dangerous pace from the outset, hips snapping into yours, bouncing you against the kitchen counter.

This is what this is, isn’t it? This whole thing between you guys. You have needs; Joel has needs. You’re just both coincidentally very good at helping the other meet their needs. What’s wrong with that, right?

Your head starts to swim with the feeling of Joel’s cock spearing you, the image of your kitchen floating in and out of focus, the thought of being one doorway away from being caught. You imagine Marcia in her backyard, almost in plain view of you two right now, seeing you propped up on the counter with your dad’s best friend between your legs, fucking the hell out of you.

And then your eyes find Joel again, beads of sweat at his forehead, cheeks flushed. He meets your lazy gaze and his hand takes your jaw, thumb and finger on each side.

“Good?” he asks, breathless, teeth gritted.

You nod.

Then Joel nods. “Good.” His eyes close over and he fucks you even harder onto his length, hurting so good every time your bodies connect.

The heat is stifling, not from the Texan summer, but from the two of you – sweating, panting, fucking off one another, bodies slipping against and sticking. The air fills thick with your stifled moans, Joel’s bitten grunts, the slapping of skin, your wet mixing with his.

You can’t take it anymore. Your head lulls back with a loud, long moan. Joel knows that moan.

“Think I should let you cum?” he asks. “You think you deserve it?”

“Fuck – please – Joel,” you’re panting, and he spanks your ass again. It doubles you over; your head collapses against his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, contemplating. “Dunno if you do, babygirl.”

“L-let me cum,” you plead, tears falling from your eyes, electricity whirling around your core. Your head rolls around on his strong shoulder. “’m so close.”

“Know you are, darlin’. ‘s too easy to do this to you,” Joel pants, breath jerking each time his hips do. “Get so wound up for me, every damn time.”

“Joel,” you’re begging now, unable to loosen your grip on his shoulders. “Fucking – please.”

“Come over for five minutes and you can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

You whimper in response, the feeling between your legs turning to tightly-wound pain. Your hands have come down to hold onto the edge of the counter, marble cutting into your damp skin under your grip.

“Want to…Want…”

“Tell me, baby. Talk.”

“Want to cum, Joel,” you pine, eyes screwing shut.

“I’m gonna let you, pretty girl. You don’t gotta worry about that. Just gotta ask nicely, huh?”

“Fuck,” you whisper, stars and tears clearing from your vision to reveal him once more. You don’t have the fucking energy to beg him anymore. Not like this. “Please, Joel.”

“Nicer.”

“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.”

He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm.

“Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.”

“No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”

You shake your head, pathetic beg painted all over your face. Joel’s expression falters, softens, only for a nanosecond, but you know him well enough to notice it. Something in his exterior breaks, something cracks.

“Then why didn’t you fuckin’ say so?” he coos. His arms wrap around you – finally – holding you up against his torso, his lips pressed to your ear. “Come on, darlin’, you can let go.”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before it happens. Your orgasm floods over you, pulsing from your soaking pussy up and across your stomach, lighting your shoulders and tightening your grip on Joel. You bite into his shoulder, muffling a sob as your walls contract, coil snaps, tension relieves.

You fucking hurt. All over. You don’t even feel him pull out, don’t realize he’s gone until he’s pumping cum all over your stomach, jacking himself to the sound of you coming undone. It’s only when you come around and feel the hot wet rolling down your tummy that you notice.

Joel’s breathing is labored. His dark tee has sweat patches under the arms, along his chest. You can feel it on his back.

You lean against him for what feels like hours, legs either side of him, his soft dick on your stomach, cum seeping into your panties. He lets you, just holds you tight and gently sways, listening to your breath slowly steadying, feeling your body stop shaking.

His voice is nothing but vibrations under your cheek, resting safely on his chest. Your ears are still ringing too loud to actually hear the words he says.

When you don’t reply, Joel’s hands cup your cheeks and lift your head to face him. You read the words on his lips.

“Need to know you’re okay before I go.”

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

“Can you walk?”

Your eyes roll back by themselves as he takes a step back, one hand around yours, the other braced in case you fall. You slip off the counter shakily, and, with as much effort as it’d probably take to go for a hike right now in the sun, you stand straight.

“I can take it,” you tell him.

Joel takes a deep breath. “Know you can, baby. Did so well for me.” He tugs his tee down over your stomach to cover the mess he’s made. “You want help cleaning up?”

You give one lazy shake of your head, almost entirely leaning on your shoulder. “I’m gonna head for a shower anyways.”

He takes your shorts and kneels, pulling them back over your legs one by one. You’re bracing yourself on his shoulders, and he stands as he settles them on your waist.

Joel gives your hand a gentle pull and leads you down the hallway. You walk with him, knees weak, to the front door. Joel holds it open and you let go of his fingers to step into the burning sun, hand coming up to shield your eyes. The breath of fresh air wakes you up from your state a little.

“Bright one,” you murmur, as his shoulder comes to meet yours.

“Oh, mornin’, Joel,” Hank calls from the sidewalk as he hobbles by, newspaper under his arm. He sings your name and you nod back in greeting. “You’re both up ‘n about early.”

“Broken TV,” Joel waves back, turning to look at you, “and a few other things needed fixin’.”

Hank nods and keeps walking. When he rounds the corner toward his own house, you glance back at Joel.

“What?” you ask.

“Still wearin’ my shirt.”

“You want it back now? Here ‘n now?”

“If you’re offering a striptease, baby, I’ll take it. Out here or inside, I don’t mind.”

You slap his arm and turn back to head inside. “I’ve had enough of you today.”

“You call me anytime that TV starts playin’ up, darlin’,” he calls over his shoulder.

You blindly throw your middle finger up over your shoulder in response, and feel his strong fingers wrap around your wrist. He tugs you back, and you swirl around to meet his stoic gaze.

“Day or night,” he tells you, “you call me.”

He walks off to his truck.

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