#i think this wip is turning out to be more of a comfort fic than i anticipated because i want to work on it rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 months

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Summary: Not wanting to face Joel after you found out that you're pregnant, you leave the Boston QZ to live with Bill and Frank. Almost four years pass before you can't hide from him anymore, letting him finally know why you ran from him all these years back.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, secret pregnancy, secrets, fluff, trust issues, Joel being Joel, making up, kissing, age gap (not specified but it's around 15 years), smut (unprotected sex), mentions of alcohol, Joel really is bad at feelings, but he's trying, Girl Dad Joel Miller, happy end

A/N: if these two had a relationship status it would be "it's complicated" Another WiP done! So now I am allowed to think about Biker Raider Joel for a moment, right?

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Pedro Masterlist || Joel Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“You know you’ll have to face him at some point,” Frank had a fond smile on his lips as he sat in his wheelchair next to you. He was watching Bill who let himself chase across the yard of his picture perfect post apocalypse home.

Nobody would expect that just down the street, outside of the fence the world as you knew it had ended.

“I know,” you sighed.

“He asks for you every time he’s here. If we had seen you, if we knew where you are. He’s gonna understand,” Frank said and you scoffed.

“He’s not gonna care. He has Tess and… he’s not…” you shook your head, searching for the words, “he’s not the man I fell in love with.”

“We all can change,” Frank said, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Bill is the best example for that. Could you have imagined him like that when you showed up here three years ago?”

You watched Bill play with your daughter, Ava, playing catch.

“Joel is not like that. He was like that. Before. But that part of him died long ago.”

You sat in silence for a while, just watching Bill and Ava, trying to soak it all in. It would never be like that again and you were already dreading having to explain all of this to her.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered, fighting against the tears as you looked at Frank. He smiled softly at you before he came closer, kissing your forehead.

Four years earlier

You knew he could tell when you were lying. He would know with one look at you that you were full of shit telling him that this was not working for you anymore. Whatever this between you was.

Joel and you had known each other since before the outbreak. You had started babysitting Sarah to earn some extra money while you were finishing you degree when she had just been nine years old and you had moved in next door.

You had been there on outbreak day. Next door, still living at home to take care of your sick father. You would never get the picture of his infected body lunging at you out of your head the night the world changed.

You and Joel… You didn’t know what Joel and you were exactly.

You loved Joel, you knew that. And you were pretty sure he loved you too. You just wanted… more. Most people did not allow themselves to love so openly anymore. And in Joel’s case? Losing Sarah had changed him. After fifteen years the man who had been Sarah’s father was gone, replaced by a man that still had his face, but was missing the warmth and comfort Joel Miller had once provided.

You could see it in glimpses, whenever his hand would rest on your back when he passed by. When he fell asleep in your arms deep in the night. When he kissed your forehead before he headed out for work.

Loving Joel Miller was easy.

Being loved by him was close to impossible.

You never really labelled your relationship, mostly because you did not think of it as important. You trusted him more than any other person on this planet. It’s why you ignored the way he had started looking at Tess. It’s why you did not question him when he stayed away at night. You ignored it all, opening your arms for him when he chose to come home to you, letting him in your bed just to feel close to him. To feel something.

The jealousy was killing you slowly, making you reckless when you let him have his way with your body.

But once you had missed your period the first month, and then the second, you knew that there was only one possible answer to your dilemma. You had never been late before. A ration card swapped for a twenty year old pregnancy test had your worst fears come true.

You were pregnant with Joel Miller’s child.

Fifteen years after you both buried his daughter. The daughter he never got over losing.

You could already see his reaction. The eyes you loved so much empty before he would tell you to deal with it.

You could not face his anger or disappointment, but mostly you could not face him not caring. So you packed your little belongings once he had left you in the morning, sneaking out of your bed without a word.

You did not leave a note, just fled the QZ, making your way over to Bill and Frank, hoping your friendship with Frank would make them take you in.

Of course Bill hadn’t want to, but once he saw your stomach swell (and tasted the sweets you baked in his kitchen) he had put all his work into making the house next door into your home.

“Mama, can we go get Strawbebbies?” you chuckled, holding her hand as you walked with her on your daily walk by the fence.

“Strawberries, baby,” you tried to correct her. Ava pouted at you, her dark curls swinging in the wind, her brown eyes so much like her fathers.

“That’s what I said!” she put her little hands on her hips and you smiled.

She was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get some Strawbebbies,” you picked her up, making her shriek with laughter. Once again you were glad you made the decision to come here. She could grow up like a child was supposed to.

Even though now that Bill and Frank were gone it was getting kind of lonely. You had all enjoyed a last dinner together before Bill and Frank had tucked Ava in for one last time and read her a story.

You had tried to keep the tears at bay as Bill had reminded you of the folder full of instructions of how to take care of things around here for you.

After dinner you had walked them to the gate, opening the fence for them as they took their last walk. You had watched them until they had disappeared into the dark woods before you made your way back to their house. You had cleaned the dishes and tidied everything up, before with a heavy heart, you had turned off all the lights and closed the door behind you before you walked to your house, allowing yourself to cry yourself to sleep as you sat on the floor next to the bed of your daughter, watching her sleep.

That night was almost three months ago. The days were getting shorter, the nights colder. You’d have enough firewood for this winter but come spring you would have to find a way to make more.

You had just finished making breakfast for Ava when the motion detector alarmed you that someone was at the gate. You froze, telling Ava to eat her fruit salad before you made your way downstairs to check out what was happening.

Your heart was pounding against your chest, once you noticed his face.

Joel Miller.

And a…. Teenage girl?

The gate swung open after he put in the code and you allowed yourself fifteen seconds to panic. You knew this day would come. The day after Bill and Frank had gone you had checked the basement, finding that Bill had put on 80’s music, the distress signal.

Even though you had turned it off immediately deep down you knew he would show up at some point.

You just did not think it would be that soon.

You grabbed your gun, checking if it was loaded before you made your way back upstairs. You did not think you would need it, but it was better to be prepared.

“Ava? Remember when Uncle Bill played hide and seek with you and showed you the best place to hide?” you asked, hiding the gun in the back of your jeans as you got to your kitchen. She nodded.

“I want you to hide there until I come and get you,” you said.

“Hide?” she asked. You nodded, kissing her cheek.

“Take Sluggi with you,” you smiled. Sluggi was the stuffed plush slug Bill had gotten for her. She nodded and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs, You heard her door to her room close and took a deep breath, calming yourself.

You knew this day would come. You knew one day you would have to face Joel Miller and you knew you would have to face his reaction.

You never regretted your decision to leave. Life has definitely been better here. That did not mean you had just stopped loving him, no matter how much he had hurt you in the past.

Stepping towards your front door you could see him walk towards Bill and Frank’s house.

You closed your eyes, taking a calming breath before you opened the door and stepped out.

His head snapped towards you once he heard the door opening, eyes widening for a split second before he pulled the girl that was with him behind his back.

He was protecting her.

“What are you doing here? Where are Bill and Frank?” he asked, his voice low.

“They’re dead. Frank got worse and… he couldn’t…” you shook your head, lost of words. He just looked at you before he shook his head, trying to put in words what he wanted.

“I just… We need some…” he took a deep breath, looking up at you, a million emotions playing over his face.

“Are you hungry?” you asked the girl behind him.

“Starving,” she replied and you smiled a little.

“There’s some fruit salad left on the kitchen counter if you want?” you asked. She stepped around Joel and he looked at her.

“It’s safe. There’s… there’s no one there,” you lied. He gave her a nod before she walked past you into your home.

It had been years since you’ve been alone with him. He did not really change. His hair maybe a little grayer, the lines around his mouth a little deeper, but he was still Joel Miller.

“You left,” he said.

“I did.”

“Why?”

You took a deep breath. You looked past him towards the house the girl had walked in, hoping your little girl continued to hide. Knowing her she had was working on her puzzle. She would be okay for a moment.

You knew she was safe. You just needed a little moment alone.

“You can have some fruit salad too. I am going to get some vegetables for dinner,“ you gave him a nod, before you turned around and walked towards your garden, ignoring him as he called after you.

With a basket full of salad, cucumbers and some tomatoes you pushed the door of your house open. Joel was sitting on the stairs, across the door, already looking at you.

The girl walked past the both of you towards the living room, an apple in her hand she was munching on.

„This is so fucking weird,“ she shook her head and you snorted while Joel hissed at her.

„What? It is weird,“ she said, her head turned towards him.

You smiled a little as you looked at her, before you walked towards the kitchen, setting the basket down. You had to go up to check on Ava.

And you had to talk to Joel.

You couldn’t hide her from him, even though you wanted to do nothing more than that.

You took a deep breath when he walked into the kitchen.

„Is it okay if Ellie takes a shower?“ He asked, knowing that there was warm water around town.

„That’s her name. Ellie,“ he clarified.

„Oh. Of course, yeah,“ you nodded and Ellie walked in, snorting as she looked up at Joel.

„You could use one too dude,“ she said and you had to fight hard against the grin as you watched the look on Joel’s face.

You were about to offer her to show her to the bathroom when you heard a door upstairs click open, followed from little footsteps, your eyes widening. Joel frowned, his hand immediately searching for his gun, his arm putting Ellie behind himself.

He raised his gun, taking a step forward as you ran around the counter, the knife you had put out to cut the salad now in your hand.

„Gun down,“ you hissed and his head snapped to you, his eyes widening when he saw the knife in your hand. You stood in front of him.

„I will not repeat myself, put the gun down, right now or I will put this knife in your thigh,“ you fingers flexed around the handle of the knife. The footsteps came closer as you kept eye contact with Joel until he slowly lowered his gun. You nodded at him once you saw him put the gun back to wherever it came from, then looked at Ellie who was looking at you with wide eyes, before you let the knife fall down to the floor just in time as Ava jumped the last step down, rounding the corner.

„Potty?“ She whispered shyly, looking up at you with big eyes and you sighed, before you nodded, the people behind you forgotten as you picked your daughter up. You risked a glance at Joel as you turned towards the stairs, your daughter in your arms.

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, before you practically ran up the stairs.

„Who is the man mommy?“ Ava asked as she was finished, washing her hands like you taught her, making as many bubbles as possible as she rubbed her hands together.

You sucked your bottom lip in as you watched her, your hand brushing over her soft hair.

„That is an old Friend of mommy,“ you explained, and she nodded.

„And the girl?“ She asked.

„That is a friend of him, I think. I am not sure.“

She finished washing her hands and you handed her the towel, her little face full of concentration as she dried her hands, making you smile.

You got down on your knees in front of her, your hands on her shoulders.

„Do you think she’s gonna play with me?“ She asked, hopeful.

„We can ask her,“ you said with a smile.

You weren’t prepared for the sight in your kitchen when you came downstairs. Joel was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back as he cut the tomatoes with the knife you had threatened with him not only ten minutes ago.

He didn’t look up as you entered the room, but Ellie did. You looked between them warily.

„I’m Ava,“ your daughter chirped and you took a deep breath, Joel still not looking up. Ellie looked at him with a frown, before she sighed, rolling her eyes, and walked towards you.

„I’m Ellie,“ she said and smiled a little and bend down to her knees. Ava looked first at her, then at you.

„Ellie, do you like sea turtles?“ You asked and the girl looked at you.

„Uh…. I guess?“ She said and you smiled.

„Because Ava loves them. Her whole room is full of them,“ you said and saw interest flicker in her eyes.

„Can I see?“ Ellie asked and you nodded.

„You wanna show Ellie your sea turtles?“ You asked Ava and she nodded eagerly.

„Awesome,“ Ellie said, taking Ava’s hand before you could offer to show them, the girls already walking upstairs towards Ava's room.

Which left you alone in the kitchen with….

„How old is she?“ Joel asked, still not looking at you as you turned to face him. He grabbed the cucumber after he had used the knife to put the tomatoes in the bowl you had prepared for the salad, beginning to slice them.

You took a deep breath.

„She turned three last month,“ you said, watching him nod slowly, the knife hitting the cutting board the only noise in the room.

„She has my eyes,“ he finally said and you sucked your bottom lip in, nervous.

„Yeah she has,“ you agreed and he finally looked up at you, setting the knife down, his hands spread out on the counter, resting his whole weight on them.

„Why didn’t you tell me?“ He asked, his voice quiet.

„I didn’t know how. Joel…. You were barely acknowledging me outside of when you were inside of me. You spend all your time with Tess doing god knows what. How would you have reacted if I told you that I was pregnant? You never even acknowledged what we…“ you stoped yourself, shaking your head.

„You should have told me. I could have…“ he stopped himself, searching for what to say and you looked at him, waiting.

„I could have helped you. I would have….“ He shook his head, his hands shaking.

„I’m gonna need a moment. Can you watch after Ellie?“ He asked and you nodded, confused and he nodded back before he walked past you and out of the house.

You just didn’t think it would be almost two days before he got back. You were outside in Bill’s garden, letting the girls help you pick everything that was ready from the garden when you noticed him walk towards the house.

You knew he was still inside the little locked up town Bill had made his safe haven. None of the alerts had went off, indicating he had left. And yeah you could have searched after him, but what good would it have done?

You’ve known him from almost twenty years, and you knew that he needed time to process certain things.

He hadn’t talked to anyone in almost a year after the outbreak and what happened to Sarah.

„Look what the cat dragged in,“ Ellie said as she spotted him and Ava perked up, her little head turning towards where Ellie was looking.

Joel nodded at the girls before he looked at you.

The sun was already setting and you had dinner prepared inside.

„How about we have some dinner and then Ellie can read you some more of the story you started yesterday?“ You asked and both girl smiled at you. Ava ran past Joel who looked after her as she disappeared into the house, Ellie following her.

„Next time you ditch me, at least tell me?“ She glared at him before she walked back into the house. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

„Can we talk?“ He asked.

„After dinner?“ You said, getting up and grabbing the basked full of fresh vegetables.

„Yeah. Yeah okay,“ he nodded and you walked towards the house, giving him a hesitant smile when he grabbed the basket from you and walked inside after you.

It was two hours later that you found yourself on the left corner of your couch, your legs tucked under you, a glass of wine in your hand.

Because this conversation needed some alcohol.

And not only because of what you were about to talk about, but because of the man who was sitting on the other side of the couch, similar glass of wine in his hand.

Because he looked so damn good.

He had showered while you put the girls to bed after dinner, the whole scene feeling so domestic. Like a dream you had many many times before when you were still dreaming.

Dreaming of a normal future.

Dreaming of a normal life.

Dreaming about how it would feel like if Joel Miller loved you back.

Because no matter how much he may have hurt you in the past, you just could not stop loving him.

„I’m sorry,“ he whispered after a while and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you.

„I’m shit at talking about those things….“ He stopped.

„Those things meaning feelings?“ You helped and he groaned.

„Yeah. Always sucked at it. Even before….“

He sighed.

„Sarah would be so angry with me with how I treated you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. You could count on one hand how often he had brought Sarah up ever since she died.

And while you thought you could understand him in the past, you loved her like yours after all, now that you had Ava, you realised that loosing her would kill you.

It would be something you could never come back from.

But he did.

„I never cheated on you. I know you thought I did, can’t blame your for it. Tess was just…. Fuck, how do I explain this?“ He sighed, his fingers rubbing over his chin.

„I never deserved you. You’re too fucking good for me. For everyone really. Because even after the whole world went to shit, you still had some kindness left for everyone around you. I know how much you hated what we did in the beginning. And I hated myself for putting you through it. I hated myself for putting you through everything I did to you since the moment Sarah died…“ he said and you could see his eyes watering.

„Can’t blame you for hating me and leaving. And not telling me about….“

„Joel….“ You said, setting your glass down and getting closer towards him, your hand reaching for his. Slowly he turned his hand so you could put yours in it, his fingers wrapping around your hand softly.

„I’m not gonna lie and tell you that it’s okay. Cause I was hurting. You were hurting me. Every time you left in the morning without a word. Every time you passed out drunk and drugged after you came back. It was like living with a ghost and it was killing me. That was the reason I decided to leave when I found out. I could…. I couldn’t bring a child into this. And I knew I wanted her before I even met her. Even though it seems crazy to bring a child into this world. But… She was half you. And the thought that there was even the possibility that you didn’t wanted her….“ You took a deep breath.

„Honestly? I can’t tell you how I would have reacted. I was… I was really fucked up in the weeks before you left. I was taking too many drugs. Drank too much. Got too fucking reckless. But that changed when you left,“ he said and squeezed your hand.

„Not right away. It might have gotten worse first but… I got better. Not perfect, but better. And I… Fuck I even talked through some shit with someone. Made me realise I never even told you how much I love you,“ he said and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing as he looked at you, a small smile tilting his lips up.

„Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you walked through my door wearing that pretty baby blue dress. Even though you were way too young for me. Still are. But…. I hope you knew, know. I really fucking love you,“ he said and you felt a tear running down your cheek.

„Can you tell me about her? About Ava?“ He asked before you could form an answer to his confession. And so instead you told him.

You told him about how you craved strawberries your whole pregnancy. How Bill traded one of his guns for the seeds from Tess.

You told him that she only slept through the night in the beginning, when Bill put her to sleep.

You told her how much she reminded you of Sarah when she smiled at you.

You told her how every time you looked at her you saw him.

Hours went by where you two talked, you ending up leaning against Joel’s side, his arm around you. His fingers brushing over your arm, his other hand still holding yours. His lips brushing over your skin when he told you about how Ellie ended up at in his care.

How he wanted to take her to Wyoming to search for his brother who might know how to find the fireflies.

„Do you know where he is?“ You asked and he shrugged.

„Not exactly. I know he messaged me from the Cody tower, so that’s where we’ll be going,“ he mumbled and you nodded.

„We could take Bill’s truck,“ you said and he stilled. You looked up at him.

„We?“ He asked and you chuckled, sitting yourself up so you were facing him, your hand now on his cheek.

„You really think I’m gonna let you go now?“ You asked with a smile.

And then you finally kissed him.

It was decided that you would leave within the next 5 days, giving you enough time to make a list (You always made lists) of everything you had to pack.

Which was a lot. Getting four people across the country on a trip that hopefully would be just like you remembered road trips to be, took a lot of supplies.

And while you were preoccupied deciding which food was best to take, Joel had asked you if he could spend some time with Ava. He wanted to get to know her. And of course, you agreed. Watching him, Ellie and Ava walk towards the garage where they spend hours doing god knows what.

It was almost dark outside when they walked back in, your heart melting as you watched Joel carry a very sleepy Ava inside who told you all about how seatbelts where very scary, something you would make sure to ask Joel about as you took her upstairs, putting her to bed.

The days went by quickly like that.

Joel quickly became Ava’s favourite person which could have to do with the fact, that she was always allowed to sit on his shoulders. Ellie had been confused, yet delighted at the change in the grumpy man she had left the QZ with.

He even got his Dad jokes out, making the teenager groan in mock annoyance throughout the day. Ellie also spend a lot of time with you, wanting to learn everything you offered to teach her. Starting from making protein bars for the trip down to how to properly braid her hair.

Even though she preferred you doing it.

You got the impression that she never really had anyone how just… listened to her or wanted to spend time with her. She told you she grew up in FEDRA School and that her mother had died while giving birth.

She had no family and her best friend (though you got the impression Riley had been more than just a friend) had died not that long ago.

That the only thing she had left in life was her purpose to save the world. Joel had told you that she was immune, Ellie showing you the healed scars to confirm it.

„You know that that’s not the only thing you have left, right?“ You asked her, sitting on the porch next to her, enjoying one last sunset, watching Joel and Ava play soccer. Her little feet chasing after Joel with happy squeals.

„What do you mean?“ Ellie asked and you looked at her with a smile.

„You have us, Ellie. You think we just gonna let you go?“ You asked and she stubbornly shook her head.

„I have to do this. It’s my purpose. I have to save the world,“ she said and looked away from you.

„Are you saying this because you feel that way, or because someone told you so?“ You asked and she looked at you.

„Because it should be your decision what to do and what not. And… think about it, even if they are somehow able to make a cure out of your blood, do you really think they will be able to make enough to make a vaccine for everyone? Who will decide who gets it? And if they end up deciding on giving it to everyone…. There are so many bad people out there. Do they deserve to be saved too?“ You asked and you could see her thinking about your words and you smiled softly at her.

„Even if you don’t like hearing it, your a kid Ellie. You should grow up and live first before you make a decision like that. You don’t even know how they would get whatever they needed from your blood. If I remember correctly Cordyceps grow in the brain, what if they have to get into your brain to get out whatever they need?“ You said and her eyes widened.

„But Marlene….“ She whispered and you reached over her, taking her hand.

„I don’t know how well you know Marlene, but I’ve known her for more than ten years. I know how she manipulates people to get what she wants. You wouldn’t even notice it,“ you said and she sighed.

„I’m gonna think about it,“ she said finally and you gave her a small smile.

„That’s all I ask about. Now how about you get upstairs and take one last long hot shower before we are on the road for days?“ You asked and she nodded, standing up and turning away from you to walk inside the house before she turned back to you and hugged you quickly.

After saying good night to Ellie later you walked towards your daughters room, her little suitcase for her toys laying open next to her bed, waiting for Sluggi to be put into the next morning. She was already in bed, Joel sitting on the floor next to her, reading to her.

You wished you could take a picture of this. Unfortunately the Polaroid camera had broken earlier this year.

„Mommy!“ A tired Ava smiled as she saw you, her arms raised towards you. Joel looked up and smiled at you as you walked over, climbing into the bed behind your daughter, pulling her into your arms.

„What story is Joel reading you?“ You asked.

„The little mermaid,“ she said and you found Joel’s eyes. You had been thinking about it for the last days now. Telling her who Joel really is. He slipped into your life like the missing piece, the man you had fallen in love with all these years back seemingly falling right back into his role as being the best father there ever could be.

So before you could talk yourself out of it you said

„Your sister loved that one too.“

Joel gulped, his eyes growing sad for a moment, before he looked at Ava.

„I have a sister?“ She asked you, her eyes big.

„Mmmh…. Her name was Sarah. She watched the movie every single night before she went to bed,“ you explained and Ava pursed her lips in an ooooh motion.

„There was a movie?“ She asked in awe.

„Oh yeah there was. And a cassette with the music. Can’t remember how often she made me listen to it“ Joel said and smiled softly.

„Where is Sarah?“ Ava asked and your smile went sad.

„She’s where Uncle Bill and Uncle Frank are. Watching over us,“ you explained and she hummed.

„I wish I could hug her,“ she whispered and you nodded, tears in your eyes, squeezing her against your chest, your hand reaching out Joel’s hand finding yours as you kissed her forehead, looking at him who had tears in his eyes.

„Me too baby. Me too,“ you whispered before taking a deep breath.

„You know Joel is her daddy,“ you finally said and she looked at you.

„He is?“ She asked and you nodded.

„I bet he is the best daddy,“ she sighed and you chuckled at Joel’s cheeks turning pink.

„Yeah he is. What would you say if I tell you that Joel is your daddy too?“ You asked and her big eyes looked at you first and then her head turned towards Joel.

„My daddy?“ She asked and both you and Joel nodded with a smile, her smile getting wider, before she jawned.

„I always wanted a daddy,“ she whispered before her eyes dropped close.

You were walking down the stairs to Bill's basement after you showered, finding Joel checking if he could manage to take any more guns. The supplies had all been packed into the truck already, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave anything of value behind.

He looked up when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small smile.

Walking over to him you were surprised when he reached for you, pulling you into his lap, one of his arms looped around you, his other hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing over your skin.

„I didn’t know you were gonna tell her,“ he whispered and you smiled.

„She deserves to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her sooner. If I would have stayed you wouldn’t have missed so much…“ he stopped you by kissing you softly.

„None of that. We both know I would have fucked this up. I would have said some really fucked up things and hurt you even more. So, there’s nothing you have to be sorry for, okay?“ He looked at you, his eyes pleading.

You released a long breath, bringing both of your arms up to cross behind his neck.

„Have I told you lately that I love you, Joel Miller?“ You whispered with a small smile that he mirrored.

„Don’t think so. But I don’t blame you, I gotta say it a lot more often than you to make up for all the years I didn’t tell you. I do love hearing it though. Love you,“ he mumbled before he kissed you again. His lips moving on top of yours slowly, his hand tilting your head up a little so he could deepen the kiss.

With a little sigh you parted your lips for him, his tongue dipping into your mouth, a deep moan coming from him, his arm pulling you closer against him.

There had been lots of making out in the last days, stolen kisses when the girls weren’t in the room, secret touches under the table while you had dinner.

But you haven’t slept together.

And you were ready.

„Joel,“ you mumbled, parting from his lips. He hummed, his lips running down your jaw.

„We aren’t gonna be alone for a while,“ you whimpered, your head tilting up to give his wandering lips some more space.

„What are you proposing?“ He asked, playfully nibbling on your neck.

„I’m proposing that you fuck me, Miller. Right here,“ you gasped when you felt his other hand slip between your legs.

„Right here?“ He asked, his fingers over the seam of your slick panties.

„Mmmmhh….“ You closed your eyes, biting your lip when he pushed the fabric to the side, his fingers dipping between you slick folds, lazily teasing you.

„All that for me?“ He asked and you opened your eyes, crashing your lips against his.

„It’s been almost four years Joel. Please don’t tease me,“ you whined and his eyes softened before he picked you up and set you down on the table behind him. Within the next minutes you were both naked, your hands in his hair as you kissed him as he stood between your parted legs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against your stomach.

„Gonna need to prepare you,“ he hummed, his hands on your ass. You shook your head.

„Please just fuck me. You know I can take it,“ you whined, one of your hands wrapping around his cock, making him hiss. He groaned, sucking your bottom lip between his before he slapped your hand away, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he held his hand out to you. Waiting.

Feeling your whole body heat up you spit in his hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched.

„My good girl,“ he praised you and you couldn’t stop whimpering.

He brought his hand down to wrap it around his cock, coating it in your saliva, before he lined himself up. You had dripped on the table you were sitting on, more than ready to take him.

„I love you,“ he whispered and you looked at him with a soft smile, your lips parting when he slowly pushed his cock into you. Filling you inch by inch, both of you starring into each others eyes.

„Missed this,“ you moaned.

„Missed you,“ you crossed your legs behind him, giving him a little push, his cock finally filing you up completely.

„Fucking Perfect,“ he groaned kissing you again before he began to move, pumping into you slowly.

You let yourself fall back down against the table, stretching your arms over your head, your back arching, your tits moving every time Joel fucked into you.

He licked his fingers, bringing it down between your legs, his thrusts getting harder as he rubbed your clit, your pussy clenching around him.

„Yes… Baby… Just like that….“ You moaned, your hands coming down to play with your tits.

„You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?“ He asked, moving faster, his skin slapping against yours every time he moved.

Nodding, you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you came, your whole body shaking as he fucked you through it.

„Shit….“ He groaned, both of his hands now coming to rest on either side of you as he leaned down, fucking into you deeply, chasing his own orgasm.

„Want you to cum again,“ he grunted, kissing you, drilling his cock into you, the whole table moving over the floor.

„Want you to cum inside me. Let me feel you,“ you whimpered, your hands in his hair, trying to meet his thrusts.

„Fuck that is…. Not a good idea….“ He laughed and you grinned.

„I don’t care. Wanna feel you. Cum for me, Joel. Cum inside me,“ you whispered and he groaned, fucking into you a half dozen times more before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you, making you cum for a second time.

Both out of breath you looked at each other before Joel leant down and kissed you.

„Sleep in bed with me?“ You hummed against his lips.

„As long as you let me,“ he answered against your lips before you both sneaked upstairs.

Against all odds after six days of a rather boring trip across the country you reached the radio tower in Cody. And two days later a group patrol of people on horses found you, asking you all kinds of questions before a man pulled the bandana that had been covering his face down, revealing Tommy Miller in the flesh.

By now you were living in Jackson for almost a year.

Ellie had decided to stay and live her life, the constant threat of someone looking for her still on the horizon, but it was decided that the town was not in immediate danger. Patrols kept an eye out for fireflies, but they haven’t spotted anyone.

You were living a happy life all things considered.

Ava went to pre school, Ellie went to normal school. They really became sisters in the last year, spending a lot of time together.

Even though Ellie started to spend more and more time with a girl called Dina you suspected was more than just a friend.

Joel was always working on improving the house.

He had changed the most, back to the man he had been before the outbreak. Yes, he still was the protector when he needed to be, but most of the time he was just Joel. Your husband.

„Yellow?“ He asked, holding the can of paint up.

You walked over to him with a smile, nodding.

„It’s a happy colour. I like happy colours,“ you shrugged and he chuckled, setting the can down on the floor before he put his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

One of his hands came to rest on your growing belly, the baby inside kicking up a storm as if it could sense their dads hand, making you both smile.

„Still think it’s gonna be a girl?“ You asked and he nodded, before he kissed you softly.

„Think I’m meant to be surrounded by beautiful girls,“ he hummed before he kissed you again.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 22 days

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Winter's King 22

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this week isn't going great but we're hoping.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You peer up at the silhouettes of the vultures perched on the peaks of the castle. Your return is met by a clear sky as the snows recede to crawling clouds across the slate expanse. The king lets you down outside the stables before he walks the horse within.

You stand just inside the doorway, outside the gathering winds that whistle through the passes and hidden crevices of the mountain. You hug yourself, shivering endlessly as you struggle to chase the cold from your bones. Once the chill creeps in it is near impossible to expel.

King Geralt’s rocky voice carries through the stable as he speaks to Roach. You glance over as another mount huffs and gives an impatient whinny. You slip further inside, letting the door shut completely. You trod along the edge of the aisle and turn down the next row. There you find Daisy’s speckled nose.

“Oh, girl,” you greet her softly and untangle a mat in her mane, “there you are.”

She sniffs you as you pet her neck. She nuzzles the collar of your cloak and you feel along the thick tendons beneath her fine hair. There is comfort in her familiarity. You long to stay there with the horses. You belong more than you do in the king’s chambers.

“Treasure...” he calls for you as you still and keep your hand on Daisy. He speaks your name next as you hear his footfalls march down the next row, harrying faster with each step. The door swings in then clatters back against the frame as Daisy knicks. “Little maid?”

You pat Daisy’s nose and retreat. You shuffle to the front and turn to follow the wall, “your highness.”

King Geralt backs out of the doorway and it snaps shut with the wind. His eyes blaze a moment before they dim. He pushes his gloves over his hair, stray strands puffing out around his hairline.

“There you are. I worried you might have blown away,” he steadies his timbre. Was he truly afraid? Did he think you would try to escape?

“Apologies, I was checking on Sir Bryce’s mount,” you explain.

“Bryce, yes,” he reaches for you and takes your hand, “he has kept you safe, has he?”

You nod, “he is a good man.”

The king’s cheek ticks, “he is my man. He only does as I bid. I commanded him to see after you. Me.”

You take a breath and bow your head, “certainly, I know so, your highness. Thank you for your protection.”

“Do you see, so long as you are close to me, you won’t need to fear,” he girds.

For so long as he keeps you close, you will only be afraid. You will fear him, you will fear his courtiers and his enemies, and you will fear the day he no long wants you near. Every flame must burn itself out and every flame will singe those who get too close.

“Yes, your highness,” you answer and look up at him again, his eyes glimmering, “Geralt.”

Your voice shakes, with more than just the cold, and you let the shiver spread through you. The king brings a hand to your chin and brushes his leather glove against your cheek. He draws you into him, holding you again his chest.

“I forget, my summer treasure, the cold is new to you,” he embraces you and bends to speak against your hat, “we must warm you before an ague might creep in.”

He lets you free reluctantly and grips your hand instead. He takes you out of the stable and towards the rear entrance of the castle. You slip in the snow, keeping you footing only for his hold on you. He stops and turns to you, tugging you near as your feet kick through the powder.

He sweeps you up in his arms without effort. He is strong and holds you across his body, cradling you as he stalks to the door. You wriggle as angles to hook two fingers through the loop and hauls open the door around you. He sidles inside and turns you, bidding you to pull the door shut. You obey and close you both in dim unlit corridor.

“Thank you, your highness,” you pat his chest lightly, “will you let me down?”

“I don’t mind. You are hardly a burden,” he grits. “Having you in my arms has me feeling much lighter.”

You drag your hand to his shoulder and squeeze through the layers, “but what if someone should happen upon us?”

He’s quiet. He keeps you aloft, shifting one way then the other, peering up and down the darkness.

“And what if they did?” He asks.

It’s your turn to be silent.

“I am king, what should they do, treasure?”

You fidget and pull your hand away from him.

“You speak true, your highness. You are the king, you may do as you will.”

He sighs and his chest heaves against you. He clicks his tongue and slowly shifts you down until your feet meet the floor. As he straightens, he drags his touch over your figure, his hand delving between cloak and dress.

“You fret very much,” he rebukes, “though I suppose caution is wise.”

“I think of you, of your reputation as king,” you assure him, “I wouldn’t want to tarnish your name. I serve the crown and I wouldn’t bring shame to it.”

“Shame?” He snarls, “never.”

He hooks his arm around you and spreads his hand across the back of your head. He pulls you into him and kisses your forehead as you tremble. He holds you like that for a moment before he parts.

“We must warm you,” he proclaims, “this way, treasure.”

He nudges you along with him. You follow his footsteps down the corridor, towards the lantern light that light the main ways. He takes you through the castle without pause, not tarrying for soldier or lord alike, though few appear in the halls. It is much too cold to leave their hearths.

You climb upward and he leads you to the winding tower. He let you up ahead of him as he holds the door. He touches your lower back through the cloak.

“You will wait for me. I have some matters to attend to,” he says, “it shouldn’t be very long at all.” He trails up your back, sending a flash of heat through you, “sit close to the hearth.”

“Yes, your highness,” you dip your head and press on, ascending as you lift the hem of your cloak and dress over your feet.

The lower door shuts only as the hinges at the top whine at your entrance. You close the chamber door and look around the space. The hearth burns still, fed by servants at intervals, and the lantern on the table shines through the steel slats that shade its flame.

You remove the cloak and hang it from an iron hook. You sit in the chair and strip off the hat, mittens, boots, and stockings; You leave the damp layers nears the hearth and lower yourself before the flames. You close your eyes and hang your head forward. You could sleep then and there.

Your peace doesn’t last very long. You raise your head as you hear someone on the stairs. You stand, readying yourself to face the king, but instead are met by a pair of pinch-faced maids. The resident servants carry steaming vessels and cross to the tub stood to the other side of the bed. They pour the water into the thick wooden walls and retreat without a word.

You spin and fold your arms. You’re taken back to the day it was you and Merinda filling a tub. Before everything became so muddled. A simple existence where you knew exactly what was expected of you.

Your heart rents when you think of your estranged companion. Merinda would know what to say. She could ease your fears, she always knew how. Ever since she came Debray, she always kept you from worry. Without her, you are lost. You only wish you’d realised then all she was to you. You were more than just maids, you were friends.

You stare at the cinders beneath the licking flames. You don’t look again as the servants come upon their second trip, and a third, and a fourth... anon and anon until the chamber thickens with the steam of the tub. You daren’t remind yourself again how much you’ve lost; how much you didn’t even know you had to lose.

You’re left in silence, facing the fire. The winds batter the tower from outside and the shuttered windows rattle. Heavy steps come up the winding staircase and you know without looking who enters behind you. The king’s sigh confirms your assumption.

“The water will ease the cold,” he says as the door shuts, “and the aches of the road.”

You shift so your stand sideways to him, “thank you, your highness.” You swallow and cough out the lump in your throat, “Geralt.”

He hums at your correction. You stand still as he moves around the chamber. He unbuckles his cloak and hangs it next to the one he gifted you. Then he nears to remove his gloves and boots, lining them up before the burning fireplace. As he stands straight, he faces you.

“You should bathe. The water is hot,” he says.

“Thank you,” you nod and reach behind your nape to untie the single lace of your dress, “so I should.”

You whisk away from him, pacing towards the tub as your hands clash clumsily. The thought of undressing before him makes you numb. You stop as the steam plume around you and drop your arms. You can’t get a grasp on the fabric. You grip the edge of the tub and stare into the water.

“You needn’t be meek,” you hear the subtle creak of his leather coat as he removes it. You peek over as he drapes it over a wooden chair. “The cold is dangerous for summerborn, you shouldn’t let it get too deep.”

You can't. You're trying to find the will. You think of all you've done. Faced the Duke and his clan, travelled to the capital, the to hinterlands, you've done it all without doubt, but the layers of fabric are too heavy a task.

You flinch as you feel a tickle along your side. You push away from the tub, dropping your arms as he king bends behind you. He raises the hem of your dress and the air is crushed from your chest. You serve, you obey, and the king’s will is plain.

You lift your arms as he strips the dress up your body and over your head. He swipes it towards the bed as your shift rumples at your hips, the unhemmed edge along your thighs. He steps even closer as he curls his fingers around the undyed linen.

You keep your arms up as he guides the fabric higher. He keeps his thumbs hooked in the cloth and turns his hands so his fingertips brush your shape. Bumps bristle over your skin and have you even colder than before. You quake as the linen blinds you for just a moment and in another, you're naked.

Your shift flaps through the air to land on your dress. The king's breath wisps out through his tight chest and he frames your hips with his large hands. He's shaking too.

He draws away slowly and you feel a rustle against you. You stand frozen as he undresses at your back. Don’t look, you can’t look. If you look, it’s real. If you look, it’s over. His clothes pile at his feet as he shifts you gasp as he presses his hot body flush to yours.

He brings his hands up your arms and along your neck. He frames your head and kisses your crown, his thumb toying with a shank of your uneven hair. You bite down as he urges you closer to the tub.

You move without without resistance, one leg over the edge then the other. He follows, thick legs plunging into the roiling water. He keeps you snug to him as he lowers himself, easing you atop him. You rest over him and his need makes itself known between you. You stare at the stone wall and steel yourself, the water adding fire to the ice inside of you.

He exhales as he relaxes under you, letting his hands crawl over your stomach and hips, feeling every inch of you. From the crook of your neck to your thighs. He smears water over your face as he touches your cheeks and traces your jaw. He quivers as snarling breaths escape him.

“This is how it should be, treasure,” he wraps his hands around yours and folds your arms, resting his clutches over your chest. “I suppose you’ve never heard the tale of Cerill and Wynifred.”

You stare at his knuckles, the hair that trims his rough flesh, the grip in his paled joints.

“Never,” you assure him.

“Cerill was a warrior. A loyal soldier. A man who served his king with all his being. He was knighted on a battlefield. Once a stablehand, then a hero. The king, Fazon, he had a wife, Wynifred. A queen who was kind and sweet. They were ill-matched for every misfortune he aimed at her, rather than its true crux,” he regales you as his voice fills the chamber, wafting with the steam.

“But she was obedient. She lived by her vows. For years. But she was mortal as any woman might be and the cruelty of her husband weakened her. And Lord Cerill was valiant and strong and gentle. Everything her husband was not. How could she restrain herself from the comfort he offered? Neither meant to betray their king but some things, some forces, are strong than those writ by men and their quills.”

You listen, certain of the purpose of his telling. You are not legendary lovers, you are not lost to wives’ tales and children’s stories, you are here, you are alive, and there is nothing fantastical about any of it. He might believe whatever but you haven’t that luxury. He will not hear the doubts, you will feel them.

“And what happened to them?” You ask with foreboding. There are stories similar in the summerlands; of pages and their masters’ wives or daughters.

“Yes, well, we know of them because they were found out, I suppose. They knew they would not evade the king’s vengeance but they refused to bend to it. So, they fled into the forest and found a sacred root. That plant is meant for the sickly, to ease their end. They consumed it together and died in each others’ arms. Just as they were found.”

You lay in silence. The forbidden love hardly tweaks at your heart, but more, you tremble to think of the king’s wrath. Of how a king might wrought his temper upon any and all. Even a wife, even a knight. It is no romantic tragedy; it is a lesson in the power of men.

“Apologies it is not a happier conclusion,” he says.

“The stories are never very happy,” you murmur. Or the truth.

He hums as squeezes your hands. The water is still as you lie in his mercy. This cannot last. Just as in his story, there will only be pain.

As if to confirm your unspoken dread, a knock sounds on the door. The king jerks, the water sloshing around him as he sits you up with him.

“Geralt, King of Rivia and the Hinterlands,” the growl cuts through meanly, “come rule your people!”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

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penvisions · 1 month

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coffee and candor {one shot}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: Frankie picks you up for date number three and he's got it all planned out. Unfortunately, you're a little out of your depth with what he has in mind...

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: insecurities, frankie being excited and adorable gets it's own warning, competence kink, kissing, matching clothing, this is so fluffy and soft, um i think that's it tbh

A/N: while i'm still taking a short break from regular fic updates, this was a commission by the lovely @whocaresstillthelouvre. the prompt was 'nervous frankie x not outdoorsy! reader go on a hike early in their relationship'. i rather like how this turned out! i am still taking commissions even if i'm not working on wips at the moment. anything helps, please check out this post and this post to know more about what's goin' on in my lil corner. no pressure all all lovelies, i know things are tough for everyone! love y'll and hope the day is good to you ♡♡

ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi

Body tingling with anticipation, you wait on for the rumble of a truck engine to round the corner. You were nervous, this is only your third date with the man you had met by chance at a coffee shop. A mix up of to go cups and you found yourself placating a very tired and embarrassed Frankie Morales.

He had picked up your drink by mistake. But if you were honest, it was totally okay that you had to wait an extra few moments to get it remade before you blipped off to work, because it gave you the chance to chat with him and scrawl your phone number onto the cup that was supposed to be yours. His kind smile motivating you to be a little bolder than you normally would.

The truck does indeed rumble around the corner and within minutes you’re sat in the passenger seat with the radio playing low and cruising down the highway.

“So what did you plan for us today? The truck looks suspiciously empty.” You eyed the cooler sitting in the extended cab, lid propped open and empty. Then the simplistic backpack beside it, it was always in the foot space between the two front seats. Frankie had admitted to you that it helped to ground him to know he had essentials within reach at all times, just in case. You hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation, knowing he had faced more than a few situations he felt less than prepared for.

But the rite in the rain notebook with the matching pen he had in his pocket along with his wallet at all times told you he was good at preparing for anything within reason. The situations he faced out of his control had not been shared with you quite yet but you would be content if they weren’t, only wanting for him to tell you if he was comfortable enough to do so.

With pink tinged ears he turns to you with a lopsided smile.

“The pack has everything we need, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“Not worried, just curious.” Your tongue peeks out from between your teeth and you see the way his adam’s apple bobs in response. His eyes snap back to the road and you feel a giddy sense of satisfaction at having flustered him a bit. He’d been the perfect gentlemen, his large hands only skimming around your body to lead you through doors, a tentative palm on your thigh as you sit beside him. No kissing, at least not yet. You were hoping today would be the day.

“I figured we would get out of the city a bit, go on a hike. It’s a really short one, only a few miles. Not too bad of an elevation gain, cleared out of poison oak, leads to a view I really think you’ll like. It’s an easy looped hike, so I figured we’d have a bite to eat at the midpoint. I packed up some snacks too, plenty of water. Even got some bugs spray and sunscreen.”

He rambled on, excitement obvious as he detailed the plan for the day, his face lighting up in the most endearing way. He was totally in his element and you….you were not. When you didn’t quip back immediately, he loosened a curled fist from around the steering wheel and reached for your thigh.

“That okay?” He jostled you slightly, worry seeping into his voice.

“Oh, um, y-yes.” You tried to muster up a smile, but it paled in comparison to the one he had only moments ago.

“I knew I should’ve run the idea by you. You don’t seem as excited now,” His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, worrying the skin of it as he regarded your profile. The slight furrow to your brow, the way your hands were wound around the flaps of your open overshirt. You had picked out a tank top and shorts outfit, tossing on casual button up over it, not sure what he had planned initially.

The first date had been coffee: to make up for him stealing yours. He had been nervous, his energy spiking and waning as he admitted he didn’t do this often. Date. Get random phone numbers. Have a lot of free time. He was a dad, to a bouncy and energetic seven-year-old. Nothing to worry about on the baby momma front, she wasn’t a part of the picture. A story you didn’t push on either, just making it as comfortable as possible between you two for him to want to tell you.

The second date had been dinner, with him in an ironed outfit and you in a slinky dress. It had been so much fun, the excitement obvious as you both hoped for another chance to see each other.

And now, the third: a hike.

You did not hike. You didn’t do anything considered outdoorsy if you were being completely honest. You were a lazy, take the day off to look through thrift shops kind of person. A curl up on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee or a cocktail and a book kind of person.

“Hey,” He breathed, soft brown eyes watching the way you had closed up. “It’s okay. We don’t have to, I promise I won’t be mad.”

“You’re so excited, though.” You move a hand to tangle your fingers with is, hand still on your thigh. Your stomach flutters, his skin is calloused and warm.

“I get excited about spending time with you, hermosa. It doesn’t matter what we do.”

“I want to do the hike.” You insist, wanting him to go back to the enthusiastic way he had talked about his plans.

“Please don’t feel like you have-“

“I don’t feel like I have to, Frankie, I want to. Because you want to. Simple.” You squeeze his hand in yours, placating him along with a soft smile.

“Simple.” With a lopsided grin and a press of his lips to your knuckles, the tension eases.

Gravel crunched underneath the tired of the truck as Frankie maneuvers off the secluded highway. Tall trees and various shades of green surround you. You both sat and listened to the clinking of the engine cooling down, taking a moment to breathe in the pine and cedar.

“I, uh, got you something.” He huffed a little as he reached for the back and hauled it into his lap.

“You didn’t have to- oh my gosh!” It was a hat, a baseball cap just like the one atop his head. Dark navy blue, emblazoned with a ‘standard heating oil’ patch. Your stomach fluttered at the implication.

“To help keep the sun off your head and outta your eyes.” He plopped it atop your head, the stiff thing just barely resting over your hair. “We’ll have a lot of tree coverage, but better safe than sorry.”

“We’re matching.” You can’t help the teasing smile that took over your lips, heat blooming in your cheeks as you realized you would look like an official couple to any onlookers. Something you had thought about more and more as Frankie filled your thoughts and messages.

“Yeah, would you look at that.” A dimple in his right cheek had you reaching out to caress it, silently thanking him for his thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted one like mine, but I’m really glad you like it.”

“I do like it! I like matching with you, Frankie.”

His smile was dazzling as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You perked up a little, not wanting him to see the way it was hard to catch your breath or the falter to your steps as your legs began to ache from the incline. The slight brush of the long grass and reaching limbs full of leaves tickled but you tried your best to ignore it, opting to focus on the broad set of shoulders carrying a backpack.

Another bout of time passed, allowing for sweat to dampen your brow and the small of your back. You had removed your overshirt, tying the long sleeves around your waist. The stray pieces of your hair that had escaped from your hat floated around your face as you puffed out a deep breath.

Frankie seemed to pick up the moderate pace he had been keeping, his boots thudding the ground as he turned to pivot from the path as it began to curve.

“Uh, the trail goes that way.” You pointed over your shoulder, having followed the man’s lead regardless.

“I know, got a map in the pack if it makes you feel better.” He tossed you a reassuring smile, over his own shoulder. His eyes alight underneath his cap.

You were about to respond when he took another step and suddenly the trees fell away from around you, leaving you stood on an overlook. Valley open and wide in front of you, the view took your already short breath away. Frankie looked from the view to gauge your reaction. And he broke out into a wide smile as he saw how much you were taken off guard by the beautiful view.

Removing is pack, he set it down and reached to turn you toward him.

“This last month or so has been so amazing. Getting to know you has been some of the best parts of my life, hermosa. I was worried dating again after so long and not even looking for it would’ve been another lesson learned but everything with you is just so….”

“Simple.” You allowed him to caress his hands over the small of your back, your own reaching for his shoulders. The bills of your matching hats bumped, easy laughter bubbling up from you both.

“Simple.” He agreed, tongue swiping out to wet his plush lips. His eyes flicked down to yours briefly and your heart fluttered as warmth blossomed in your chest. Pressing more into his space, your chest bumped his, giving him the nudge he needed to close the gap even more.

Out on that ridge where you never would’ve trekked to on your own, you shared your first of many kisses with the man who had taken you completely by surprise. His lips soft and pliant against yours, his warmth seeping into you much like the sun on your skin underneath the open sky. You were the one to lick into the seam of his mouth, something he readily allowed you to do. The slid of his tongue on yours like heaven.

Breaking away, Frankie peppered kisses over your face. Lips tasting the salt from your sweat but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Turning side by side, he kept his hand around your waist and you mimicked him.

Maybe hiking wasn’t so bad.

dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal

#dev writes #fic: coffee and candor #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales one shot #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #fluff #ao3 link #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #first dates #dating

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧

pairing: chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!chan. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. this one isn't as angsty as some of my other skz sick!fics. reader is sick/feeling shitty (with her period). chan is an amazing and loving bf what can i say. slighttt mention of possession from chan (but in a cute way!!). pet names (affectionately). a LOT of fluff.

word count: 3.0k

summary: it's always at the most inconvenient of times that your body decides to gift you with your period- and this time around, it's during a moment when your boyfriend chan is busy in his studio. so surely, he won't have time to spare to comfort you, right??

a/n: i've already gotten quite a few requests to do chan next in my skz x sick!fics series, so here ya'll go haha! 😂 i think jisung is next up on the sick!fic queue, but we shall see..... 🫣 also, chan is literally the reason why i continue to live some days lmao he's such a big comfort and inspiration for me and i love him a lot and just want to protect him all of the time,, he's so precious to me ugh!!! 😩❤️

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

You knew that you shouldn’t have been interrupting your boyfriend since he had been diligently working in his office for most of the night. As soon as he arrived home from a long day at the company, he proclaimed that a spark of inspiration had hit him, and he needed to get his ideas down.

So, he stole away to his small studio that was just off to the side of your shared bedroom. The apartment you guys lived in was nothing special to look at, but it held a functional space where Chan could have his studio, and that’s all that mattered. Even if your bedroom was a little smaller than what you would’ve liked, you could put up with such qualms if it meant the love of your life had a comfortable space to work in. Plus, it was always nice when he chose to work from home and not at the company. Being at home with him, even if you guys were in two separate rooms, was enough to keep you more than happy and content.

This is why, the moment your symptoms grew to become almost unbearable, the pain shooting up from deep in your abdomen, cheeks flushing every few minutes with heat, limbs growing a little weak and fatigued, you found yourself just outside the door of Chan’s studio, knocking on the wood softly. There was a moment of silence on his end, and a bit of shuffling before you heard him usher you in.

As you entered the room, you were immediately soothed by the chill atmosphere that encased his studio. The dim led-lights glowed across the crown moulding of the high ceiling, casting a cool glow of blue on everything in the room. There were fuzzy blankets and silky pillows strewn across the large black leather couch that Chan had shoved into the corner of the room - the couch you two had spent much time on throughout your relationship.

And then your eyes flitted over to your boyfriend’s desk, which was decked out in all of the newest and greatest technology; fit with large speakers, three monitors, and a handful of keyboards that you had no clue what he used for.

Your boyfriend was so focused on the screens in front of him that he didn’t even turn around to greet you. He was sitting up, spine-straight in his plush desk chair, leaning over one of his many keyboards and picking out certain notes on the keys. A large set of headphones was placed just beside him on the desk, which you supposed he had just taken off upon your presence.

“What’s up, baby girl?” He asked, voice coming out husky and low from being unused. You two hadn’t spoken since you finished dinner together, which was several hours earlier that night.

With a glance at the large metal-lined clock that hung close to his desk, you read that it was close to midnight. No wonder why you were so tired. It had been a busy week at work, and you had decided to lounge around the apartment all that day since it was a Saturday. Chan had been gone at work, occupied with schedules all day until he managed to get home relatively early for him - which was around eight in the evening - so he could have dinner with you before going straight back to work again in his studio.

Without saying anything, you trailed over to him. With gentle hands, you pried his arms away from his keyboard. You felt his eyes flutter from being trained on the computer screens to scanning down the length of your face. Silently, you moved so that you were sitting atop his lap, straddling his waist with your legs. You wrapped two arms across his broad shoulders, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. Catching his scent, which was of musky body wash and deep fern.

Chan let out a soft chuckle as he snaked one arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he used his other hand to get back to work. “What’s all of this about, darling?” He asked, his deep voice cascading close over your ear and sending a zap of energy to coarse through your entire body.

“It hurts, Chan…” You whispered, words barely heard over the catchy beat that was bleeding from the nearby speakers.

Your boyfriend’s entire body froze up just then, as he slowly brought you away from his neck and locked eyes with you. You saw concern dance there, darkening his pupils just slightly. “What hurts, sweetheart? Are you sick?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “N-No, I just… I have cramps.” You said in a meek voice. And finding it hard to hold his stare, your focus landed on the faintly glowing led lights that were strung around the room, washing your boyfriend’s skin in a kind of ocean-blue glimmer.

Then, you felt a few slim fingers move underneath your chin, tilting your head just slightly so that your gaze locked with Chan’s once more. “Is it that time of the month again, princess?” He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way.

Slowly, your hands found their way into his hair, absently playing with the black curls there as you bit down on your bottom lip in a nervous habit you always did when you were feeling uncomfortable. “Y-Yeah, kinda. It started after dinner.”

Chan leaned into your form at your confession, pressing his mouth against yours in a tender kiss, plush lips fitting atop yours perfectly. “What can I do to help you, my love?” His voice came out gravelly as he gave you another handful of kisses. "What do you need from me right now, hmm?”

Never in your life had you had a man who cared so fucking much about you. And you knew that it wasn’t just out of obligation because you guys were dating. No, this man sitting right in front of you cared for you wholly and ardently because he wanted to. He took pleasure in it, and it filled him with so much happiness when he saw that you were happy.

“I… don’t know,” your voice trailed off into silence as your heart raced from his kisses. Chan yanked his head away from you, a tiny smirk cracking across his face at the sight of your pink-tinged cheeks. His dear kisses always did that to you- always stirred the vat of love that was hidden just beneath the surface of your veins.

He swiped a thumb across your warm flesh, “Oh- is my baby blushing?” He laughed softly. You felt both of his hands come around your hips then, fingers squeezing at the skin that was exposed between your tank top and short shorts.

“No, it’s just a h-hot flash.” You mumbled in a tiny voice. But already, your face was giving you away - as a furious shade of crimson bloomed across both of your cheeks.

And all at once, Chan was standing up from his chair in one fluid movement, grasping onto your waist and yanking you close to him as he moved. You squealed in surprise at his sudden change in position. “Chan, what are you doing?” You asked around a hearty laugh, clutching on tightly to his shoulders as he trudged through his studio and towards the bedroom.

“Taking care of my girlfriend, that’s what,” he began as he neared your shared bed. He gingerly placed you down atop the downy mattress, taking a nearby woolly blanket and tucking it all around your body. “Now, you stay right here, and I’ll be back with all of the goods in no time at all.”

You dramatically rolled your eyes at that, “Don’t make a huge production out of it, babe. I get this every month, I'm used to it.” You called after him as he hurried to the bedroom door again.

Turning around to face you in the doorframe, he leveled you with a deep frown, “And you don’t make a big production out of me helping you, baby.”

You felt a satisfied smile erupt across your face just as he closed the door behind him. You turned onto your side, burrowing down into the blanket as your heart beat wildly. It galloped in the pit of your chest because of your boyfriend.

Because even though he had been so busy with work, even though he had been extremely focused and in the middle of a creative spell, he somehow managed to pull himself away from all of it to take care of you. To go out of his way and help to make you feel better. And if that wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was.

Sometime later, Chan was back in the bedroom, clad with a bag bursting with various items. He plopped down beside you, offering you a meek smile as he began to pull out the various things he had retrieved to… make you feel better. He plugged in the heating pad that you always used during the special time of the month, and turned it on, positioning it atop your lower stomach that was still covered in the large blanket.

You rifled through the bag of goods at your side, eyeing the huge bag of salty chips, a dark-chocolate bar, a box of toffee cookies, and a chilled bottle of green tea. Staring up at your boyfriend, you flashed him a cheeky grin. “All of this for me, babe? You didn’t have to… I would’ve been fine with just the chocolate.”

He leaned forward then, carding a few fingers through your hair gently and pushing the locks away from your face. “Of course, baby girl. Want to help you however I can…” He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, before yanking his lips away from your warmed skin and staring down at you with a serious expression painted across his face. “Have you taken any medicine yet? For the pain?”

Grabbing the hand that wasn’t currently playing in your hair, you threaded your fingers through his, marveling at the way that his large hands practically dwarfed yours in size. “Yeah, I took some as soon as I felt the pain come on.”

“Good girl,” your boyfriend said in a quiet tone. You pulled your attention from your intertwined fingers and noticed him staring down at you with a… peculiar look.

“What?” You asked, squeezing his fingers a little bit with your own. A sardonic kind of smirk widened across his lips. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because…” He began in a light, charming voice, “I know that you feel shitty right now, but I can’t help but think that you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” Your boyfriend pressed into you then, giving your lips a tentative kiss. “And you’re all mine…”

You whined against his mouth, “Don’t say things like that or you’ll literally be the cause for me breaking out into ugly sobs... you know how much I can't take sentimental stuff when I'm on my period.”

Chan laughed deeply, giving either of your cheeks warm kisses before moving away from you slightly. “Well, we can have none of that.” He shifted on the bed so that he was lying beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close and into his side.

The heat that his body always seemed to radiate did something to your heart - soothed an ache that was throbbing deep in your bones, in your lower stomach. “What are you doing?” You tilted your head up so that you could see his face. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he turned on the flatscreen tv that was placed just in front of your bed.

“I’m picking out a comfort movie for us to watch.”

“Why? I thought you had to work to do - inspiration calling, and all of that.”

He stared down at you, pupils slanting just a tiny bit at your insinuation that he’d rather work at that moment than spend time with his one and only girlfriend. “Baby girl, you should know me enough by now to know that I’m never going to leave your side when you’re feeling even a little bit bad.”

“Is that a forever promise?” You rose an eyebrow at him. Forever promises were something that the two of you had come up with early on in your relationship. They were promises that you made each other only on occasion when you truly meant them and would do anything to keep them. It was a sweet, unique gesture that you two had started, and something deep inside of you always melted whenever Chan brought it up.

“Do you want it to be one?” The man looking down at you asked, a knowing light flooding into his dark-brown eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve already promised such a thing a long time ago…”

You hit his chest playfully at that, a zap of energy running down the length of your spine at the hard muscle that your fists found there. “You’re so stupid,” you laughed, nuzzling into his side, the heat from the heating pad already beginning to soothe the aches that were radiating from deep inside of you.

“You never answered my question, princess.”

Your eyes found his against in the dim room. The only light that was switched on was a floor lamp that was shoved into a corner, near the tv. It cast a kind of ethereal glow against your boyfriend’s skin, shining against his midnight-black curly hair and darkening this sharp jawline in shadows.

You swallowed, once. “Okay, fine. I want that to be a forever promise.” You rolled your eyes at him, but in reality, you both knew that you weren’t annoyed to give the request in the least bit. Forever promises were reserved for very special occasions- when the two of you wanted to reiterate something.

And it seemed like Chan was very keen on doing so just then.

Placing a hand over his heart, he closed his eyes and canted his head to one side, speaking in a low, gravelly voice. “I, Bang Chan, solemnly swear with a forever promise, that from this moment onwards that I will never leave your side no matter how bad you’re feeling.”

It was stupid, really. The promise.

But still, it cast butterflies across your stomach.

It forced a big, idiotic grin to spread on your lips.

And then you were dragging Chan into you, offering him a soft kiss. “And I forever promise that I’ll do the same thing for you whenever you need it the most.” When you tore apart, he was mimicking your smile.

Just like that, you two settled down into the thick duvet coverlets of your bed, focusing on the comfort movie that Chan had chosen for the two of you to watch. It was some cheesy rom-com that you had already seen a dozen times, but he knew how much you loved it, and how watching it helped get your mind off of the pain that was flowing through your body.

Throughout the movie, your boyfriend would lean over and press fervent kisses atop your head, or squeeze your hip a little tighter with his fingers. He’d feed you the snacks that he had bought, laughing every time you let out a moan of delight from the way that the sugary and savoury foods filled your belly with both happiness and contentment.

And when the exhaustion began to take over your body, and your eyes started to feel heavy, you snuggled deep down into the blankets and covers, enjoying the soothing presence of your loving boyfriend right by your side.

With his gentle fingers playing through your locks, the movie faintly playing in the background, your tongue sweetened by the snacks, and the dim lighting throwing everything into a warm kind of glow of happiness, you were completely at peace at that moment.

“You tired, baby girl?” Chan asked, speaking after a long while of silence between the two of you as you focused on the movie.

Nodding your head slowly, a yawn escaped past your lips. “Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off, as your breathing deepened somewhat, limbs growing loose from the sleep that was upon the forefront of your mind.

“I bet you're tired, you’ve had such a long week at work, and on top of that, you’re body’s now going through its monthly cycle,” your boyfriend said in a whisper, his tone radiating across your ears, reaching down to a part inside of you that needed to hear his soft words at that moment. “Go to sleep now, darling.” His fingers continued to message at your tender scalp, lulling you into a listless kind of state.

“Will you be here when I awake?” You mumbled, your face turned sideways so that your cheek was resting against his muscular chest. It rose and fell slowly with each deep breath that he took.

“Of course, baby. I’ll always be here when you awaken.” He replied in that rumbly voice of his, the baritone of it vibrating against your ear. Then, you felt him shift against you, pressing a warm kiss atop the crown of your messy-haired head. “I love you, always.”

And you fully turned onto your side then, hiding your meek smile with the fuzzy blanket that was draped across you. As you cozied up into your boyfriend, the heat that was radiating off of his body cast a magickal spell over you.

An ethereal, beautiful kind of sleeping spell.

As your eyes drooped closed, your heart slowed down, and you succumbed to the dark waves that had been lapping against the sides of your mind for so long. And soon, you were riding the clouds of dreamland, with the love of your life - the warm, strong, comforting, safe person with a warm body sitting just beside you in the quiet calm of the night.

Always your anchor, always your help, always your only eternal love.

Fin.

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imaginedisish · 2 years

Text

Home (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey everybody! Here is a new Din Djarin fic! I don’t know if I’ve done this trope already...there’s a good chance I did. I had a version of this fic in my WIPs for a while, and I don’t think it ever made it out of the doc, so here it is. I hope you guys like it! It’s heavily based on “Home” by LCD Soundsystem.

Summary: Din learns the truth about your past...

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), praise kink for sure, hurt to comfort, friends/idiots to lovers, Jedi!reader (implied conflict/is training Grogu), implied kidnapping (Inquisitors kidnap reader as child), cursing, Crest still exists because I’m lazy, probably grammar mistakes because again, I’m lazy.

Word Count: 3,661

Your lungs burn painfully as you sprint through the forest, dodging trees, maneuvering through the thicket. You swear Grogu is giggling in his little carrier strapped carefully onto your chest. “This is not funny, little guy,” You mumble in between breaths. Grogu babbles and giggles some more in response.

This was not how this training session with Grogu was supposed to go.

BANG! You flinch a bit to the left as a blaster shot whirls by, smashing violently into a tree, leaving a burning gaping hole in its wake. You make a sharp turn to avoid the tree as it crashes down in front of you. The dark troopers were closing in on you and Grogu; you could feel it. It was only a matter of time until they circled around you, blasters pressing at your back.

Another. BANG! The tree to your right comes crashing down a few feet away. You turn around for just a split second, searching for Din, for something, for a way out. They were gaining on you, you could see them coming from over the hill.

You press a button on your comlink. “Hey Mando?” You practically shout into it. “Things are getting a little messy over here.” Your words are panicked, jumbled.

“I’m almost there,” He reassures. “What’s going on?”

“Well, they’re-,” BANG! That answers his question.

“Just hold on, okay?” You can hear the fear in his voice; it wasn’t something you were used to. Din was normally confident, but this time there was a sense of insecurity, as if this time was going to end differently than all the others. As if he was afraid you weren’t going to make it.

You take a deep breath and navigate away from the now burning, fallen over trees. You turn around; the troopers were even closer than they were before. You swear there weren’t this many a few minutes ago. You turn to the left, trying to find another way out, but it’s too late. You were surrounded. You weren’t fast enough. Maybe this was the end.

“I am not getting killed by a bunch of droids,” You huff, raising your hands above your head. But the troopers don’t stop, they continue to creep closer towards you and Grogu, raising their blasters, readying to shoot, aiming to kill. “We are not going down like this kid,” You whisper, Grogu’s ears picking up as the words slip from your tongue.

The troopers finally stop, their metal joints freezing in place. Their blasters are still pointed towards you and Grogu. You swallow harshly, staring at your reflection in the metallic armor of the dark trooper directly in front of you. You watch closely as their robotic fingers hover over the trigger. You had one shot, one chance to get this right. You shut your eyes, waiting for it.

All at once. CLICK. BANG.

Your hands extend out. You can feel the energy pulsing through you. It’s controlled and stable. You slowly open your eyes, and hovering in the air are at least twenty violently shivering blaster rays, threatening to finish the job if you let go. You can feel the rays dancing under your fingertips, struggling against your grasp. You shut your eyes again, the tension of each one growing. You couldn’t hold this forever.

A new feeling abruptly shocks your system. It’s a certain power you haven’t felt in years. It rattles your bones, sending shockwaves throughout every inch of your body. There’s something delicious about it, tempting even. It’s powerful, yet intrusive, quickly invading your senses and taking over. You allow it to course through you fully. You can almost hear something calling out to you. Let go.

And so you do.

With a swift motion, you release the energy building up inside of you. It’s a radical feeling, but still somehow familiar. The shocks flow through the palms of your hands and out of your fingers. There’s a slight sting. It’s almost painful. And that’s when you remember exactly what this feeling is. Your eyes open wide, and you watch as electricity, and the blaster rays, shoot out towards the dark troopers, decimating them immediately.

Fire consumes the trees around you, embers quickly filling the air. You’re not sure if the electricity you just shot out of your hands caused this, or the blaster shots, or the dark troopers themselves. Most likely, it was some sort of messy combination of all three, which meant that you were in part to blame.

“Cyare?”

And Din saw the whole thing.

He’s standing just a few feet away from you. You can see the flames and carnage reflecting against his armor, and in the center of it all is you. This wasn’t a side of yourself that you wanted him to see, or even know about in the first place.

But it was too late for that now. “Din, I can expl-,”

He cuts you off, curt, emotionless. “We need to go.” You nod, taking slow strides towards the ramp of the Crest. You pass Din along the way. You want him to say something, to look at you, to move at the very least. But he doesn’t. He’s motionless, frozen in the aftermath of what you had done, of the secret you had tried so very hard to cover up.

You reluctantly step into the Crest, taking Grogu and his carrier off your shoulders, placing him in his crib. You throw the carrier to the ground. He gurgles something entirely unintelligible. There’s a tiredness in his grumblings. Good, you think to yourself. At least he’ll be asleep when you and Din have it out.

Din’s steps echo against the walls of the Crest. You know he’s disappointed. You can feel it. You should’ve told him the truth, told him who you were, told him that person isn’t who you are anymore. It’s certainly not the person you are with him. Din makes your past seem like some non-existent, intangible, fictional far-off tale. It was like he made you forget. No. He changed you, altered your brain chemistry, made you feel like you mattered. And not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

You needed him, and it scared you. You were almost afraid of the connection, of the dependency.

But he needs you too, you just don’t know it yet.

You wait a minute, trembling a bit in the hull, watching as Grogu’s eyes struggle to stay open. Within a few seconds, they’re closed. Din’s figure finally appears in the doorway. He’s apprehensive, tentative, as if he hasn’t made up his mind about coming inside. Your stomach knots, twinging as he finally steps all the way inside, pressing a button as the ramp shuts behind him.

He looks over at Grogu, fast asleep in his crib. A modulated breath escapes from under his helmet. It’s a sigh of defeat, of dejection. You build up the courage to stare into his visor, half expecting to get an indication of how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing, no sign of life save the shallow breaths slipping through his vocoder.

“Din, just let me explain.” It’s a plea, a solicitation for forgiveness.

But he isn’t buying it. “Did you lie to me?” There’s no anger in his voice, no agitation, not even an ounce of annoyance. It’s hurt, pain, possibly even betrayal, and that feels far worse than any vexation or outrage ever could. “Last time I checked, Jedi don’t use the force like that.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes breaking away from his glare. You know he’s staring at you under his helmet, searching for answers, trying to convince himself that what had just happened was a figment of his imagination. But it wasn’t. It was you. The past had caught up with your present, and now they’d fight for control.

“No, they don’t,” You pause, breathing deeply before continuing. “The Inquisitors kidnapped me when I was a kid. I was saved just a few months after the first Death Star was destroyed.” There’s a moment of relief before the fear of waiting for his response kicks in. You had told him the truth, and he wasn’t running away. Din was still in front of you, listening to every word you had to say.

He takes a few steps toward you, slowly closing the distance between you and him. “You could’ve told me that,” He whispers. “You should’ve told me.” He’s more assertive the second time around.

“I didn’t want you to think that I-I was still like that.” You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, begging to be blinked away. “I d-didn’t want you to t-think I was some monster.”

“What are you talking about?” He finds himself being drawn even closer towards you, his gloved hands gravitating to yours, his fingertips brushing against your wrists as he presses his palms into your own. Home. The word flashes in your mind in big bright lights, your hands fitting perfectly into his. “How could you think I’d ever see you like that?”

“I could tell you were scared, when you saw what I did…” You trail off, your heart beating wildly out of your chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t be training the kid. Maybe I’m not…” Din shakes his head. “Not what?”

“Not good enough,” You mumble, fighting back sobs. “If I can’t let go of my past, let go of those feelings…”

“No.” There’s no hesitance in his statement, no question, no consideration. Din means it. “Don’t think like that, mesh’la. You’re more than enough, more than the kid and I could’ve ever asked for.”

“But I-,”

He cuts you off again. “You protected Grogu. You protected me.”

“I lied to you, Din,” Your voice is soft, quiet, timid. “I did something I’d promise myself I’d never do again.” You blink a few times, letting the inevitable tears stream down your cheeks.

Din squeezes your hands lightly and lets go. Before you can internally grieve the loss of contact, he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. He had never been so gentle with you, so kind, so soft. This was so unlike him.

You sob into his beskar covered chest. The cold metal feels good against your burning cheeks. “I-I’m sorry.” You croak out, your voice reverberating through his armor.

“It’s alright,” He mutters, the top of his helmet coming down to rest on your head. “I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay.” You sniffle as he whispers sweet reassurances in your ears, reminding you that you’re good enough, that he’s right next to you, that nothing bad is going to happen. “You should get some rest.”

You nod, and Din pulls you from his chest, stepping away from you and into the cockpit. You wish he was still next to you, his body pressed against yours. The closer you get to Din, the more dangerous things become. Luke and Ahsoka had told you the dangers of maintaining connections, building relationships. Ahsoka had been more forgiving, given that she believed in a more balanced way than the Jedi did. But Luke…Luke had been warning you for years.

Honestly, you didn’t care anymore. You wanted to forget Luke’s grating voice, to dispel each ideal he forced into your head. You wanted Din, needed Din. He was all that mattered now.

Forget your past This is your last chance now And we can break the rules Like nothing will last

Luke’s warnings fade away as you search through your clothes for something more comfortable to wear. Naturally, there’s nothing clean, nothing that Grogu hadn’t spit up on.

There’s one shirt of Din’s that you had borrowed a few nights ago when he was out on a hunt by himself. It still smells like him, feels like him too. You like how you look in it, the way it hangs too long on you. You like that it’s his and not yours. You slip it on and walk out into the hull and towards the cockpit as the Crest takes off.

You can’t see it, but his eyes settle on your reflection in the viewport. He turns around to get a better look. His shirt is massive on you, falling just above your knees. He hadn’t expected to see you in his clothes, but fuck did you look good. He couldn’t hold back anymore, not after today, not after you had sobbed in his arms.

He needed to remind you of who you are. He needed to tell you what you meant to him. Maker, he needed you to know everything, how he wants every inch of you, how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

You can tell he’s looking at you now. You’re suddenly incredibly self-conscious. “I-I’m sorry,” You stutter. “I took i-it the other day without asking…should’ve told you I had it.”

He clutches his fists as the Crest comes out of the planet’s atmosphere. He presses a button, putting the ship on autopilot. “You need to stop apologizing,” He says, pushing his palms into the arms of the pilot’s chair and standing up.

You tilt your head to the side, confused and somehow even more apologetic than you were before. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you-,” “You’re not offending me, you never could.” He closes the gap between the two of you with one small step. “So stop saying sorry.” There’s an urgency in his voice, and an undeniable sense of certainty, like he had thought hard about what he was going to say, as if he had wanted to say this for an incredibly long time.

“Sorr-,” You cut yourself off, a smirk spreading across your face.

Din’s hands hover over your waist, softly settling down, waiting for you to protest. But you don’t. “Is this alright?” He asks.

“Y-yes,” You stutter. Din’s grip becomes firm against your hips. You hum at the contact, slowly pushing your body closer to his until your chests are flush against one another’s.

The tension is palpable. This is no longer him simply trying to comfort you; this is much, much more than that.

He makes the first move, taking a step in between your spread-out legs so that your back presses into the wall behind you. You can feel a pulse of heat shoot down to your core. “You need to know what you mean to me,” He whispers, his knee pressing lightly into your clothed cunt. You hold yourself back from grinding against him. “Need to show you how I feel about you, how you make me feel…” He trails off, letting himself get lost in the moment

Your hands snake up to the base of his neck, where his flight suit and his helmet meet. Your fingers slip under the fabric, exploring the exposed skin there. You’ve always wanted to feel him, to let him feel you. But this was never the deal, this was never something you expected. These were uncharted waters, a feeling that was so far shoved to the back of your head that you were positive this would never happen.

But this is happening.

He tugs the shirt up so that his hands can slip underneath. “Take off your gloves.” Your voice is breathy as the plea slips out. “Wanna feel you.” Din nods, quickly pulling them off before gluing his palms back to your skin. His calloused fingertips graze over your stomach, sending chills down your spine. “Din,” You whisper as he trails towards your bra, dipping underneath. His thumb brushes over your peaked nipple. You shut your eyes, letting your head fall back against the wall.

“What is it, pretty girl?” He asks, teasing you, his fingers pinching your nipple lightly. “Tell me what you want, need to hear you.”

He was going to be the death of you. “I-I want you to f-fuck me,” You beg, shamelessly grinding against his knee, searching for some sort of relief. You can feel your wetness pooling in between your legs. “N-need you to touch me Din, please.”

Din nods, his hands slipping out from under your shirt and down to the waistline of your panties. He drops to his knees as he slips them down your legs, practically tearing them off of you in the process. His fingers glide up your inner thigh as he stands. His palm finally settles against your cunt, the heel of his hand pushing into your clit, his fingers teasing at your opening.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, such a good girl,” He praises, moving a bit so that his fingers find their way to your clit. You moan out at the sudden pressure. “You like that? Like my fingers there?”

You hum a yes, unable to pull any sort of coherent thought together as Din’s fingers swirl around your clit. “N-need more,” You mumble. “W-wanna feel you, please.” You can feel his erection against your leg, throbbing in his flight suit. But Din doesn’t stop, his fingers continue their unrelenting circles at your core.

He moves his hand ever so slightly, shifting the angle so that his thumb brushes against your clit, and his fingers begin to tease your folds. Your head falls against his shoulder at the feeling. His fingers suddenly thrust into you, pumping in and out.

“You’re so perfect,” His honeyed, modulated voice rasps. He watches as your chest heaves against his shirt, your back limp against the wall of his ship, your head pressed against his shoulder. Fuck you looked so good like this, taking him, letting him make you his. And Maker, you felt good doing it. Nothing would ever compare to this, to the feeling of having him this close to you. “Doing so good for me.”

“Din,” You whimper. “I-I’m so close.”

He smirks under his helmet. He was going to make you come on his fingers. You clench around him, his fingers hitting the spot you need him in most every time. “That’s it sweet girl, just like that,” Din whispers, his thumb mercilessly toying with your core. You can feel yourself coming undone around him, like a wire snapping in two, heat spreading fervently across every inch of your body.

“D-Din,” You stutter, pulling him against you, his fingers still buried inside you, his thumb still drawing gentle circles. You needed more, you needed him closer than humanly possible. You bring a hand down to his erection, jerking him off through his pants. “N-need you inside me, Din.”

He doesn’t waste any time undoing his belt, shoving his pants off. He’s so fast you’re not even sure any of it happened in the first place. He lines himself up with your entrance. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

There’s no question. “I’ve always wanted this, Din, always wanted you.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “…‘always wanted you too, mesh’la.” You gasp as he buries himself inside of you with one thrust, splitting you open. “So fucking tight, so perfect,” He praises you again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at his words. He gives you a minute to adjust to him before pulling out and shoving himself back in. You’ve never felt so full, so whole, like he’s tearing you apart just to put you back together.

“Feels s’good,” You murmur as Din sets his pace. It starts slow, his hips rolling against yours with each thrust. He’s taking his time, exploring every inch of you. His thumb finds your clit again. The sensation is almost overwhelming. You’re already on the borderline of being fucked out.

You can feel your core pulsing as he works at you, toying with you. His thrusts become quicker, needier. “So perfect for me,” He soothes, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek, brushing away a tear you didn’t know had escaped your eye. “Taking me so well, wanted to do this for so long.”

You were already practically there. Every pump, every praise, every swirl pushes you closer to the edge, threatening to throw you over, to split you in two, and Maker, you wanted it.

“Din I-I-,” You can’t even get the words out.

“I know, pretty girl, I’ve got you,” He coos, fucking you into the wall, his thumb still beating away at your heat, his other hand still holding your cheek. Your legs are hooked around his waist, your fingers digging into the beskar that dawns his shoulders.

Your walls flutter around him, and you can feel yourself falling apart around his cock. Searing white heat floods your vision. You can feel a few cool tears against your hot cheeks. You look into his visor as you come. You want him to see you, to know how he makes you feel. “F-fuck, Din, I-I love you.” The confession doesn’t bother you as it slips out. It’s natural, like you had said it countless times before.

And you’ll say it countless times after.

It’s what sends Din over the edge. “S-shit,” His voice is shaky, breathy, broken, his cock twitching inside of you. You can feel him fill you up, pumping in and out a few more times before stopping, still buried deep inside you. His forehead rests on yours, your body limp against his. “I love you,” He confesses back. “So fucking much.” You shut your eyes, letting yourself melt around him. “Can we stay like this, for just a little while? Don’t wanna leave you yet.” You hum a soft yes in response. You didn’t want him to go anywhere either.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in, keeping you held against his chest. There it is, that same feeling from before, the one you felt the very second you joined this little clan of three.

Home.

If you're afraid of what you need If you're afraid of what you need Look around you, you're surrounded It won't get any better

And so, goodnight

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wolfjackle-creates · 4 months

Text

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger management ship #i need to make pancakes one of these days #theyre yummy #danny devoured his #hes spent so little time on earth lately #that he was ecstatic to have good homemade pancakes #hed only ever had them when sleeping over at tuckers before

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 months

Note

Could I have a second request please? 13 and 37 with Wrecker? Thanks so much for writing! 🎉

Hello @merkitty49, thank you for the awesome request.

I love Wrecker, all I want is to be hugged by him. So this is a somewhat indulgent fic. Tiny bit. Anyway, enjoy. It's smaller than the other fic, but I hope you enjoy it either way.

Love oo

Never Abandon You

Warnings: Breaking someone else's stuff, repairs, discussing dream, anxiety of abandonment, tears, comfort, kisses, caresses, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

All you could hear from inside the ship was Wrecker’s frantic voice, “Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—”

“Wrecker?” You slowly step on to the ship, and as soon as you see him, you have to fight back a laugh. “Wrecker, what … ahem, what’s going on?”

As soon as his eyes locked on yours, you could see fear in his eyes, “Mesh’la, I screwed up!”

“What happened?” You walk closer and you see Tech’s spare goggles in Wrecker’s hands, the lens is cracked, and it looks like he tried to tape it back together. “Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

“Well I was too wired to fall asleep right away, so I came here to work out, and while I was distracted, I … I accidentally stepped on his spare ones.”

“Thank goodness it wasn’t his main set. Okay, I think I can help you with this, pass me his goggles, and if you can grab my toolbox from up top that will help.”

“On it!” He didn’t even think twice as he handed you Tech’s goggles, you slowly and methodically removed the tape Wrecker used, trying to keep the adhesive residue on the tape and not on the goggles themselves. Shortly, you had all the pieces of Tech’s goggles laid out on Gonk’s surface.

Wrecker watched you work in awe of your talent, passing your tools without a second to spare as you asked for each of them. You were almost done, when he noticed the look on your face, tilting his head slightly as he looked at you, “Mesh’la, why are you up?” It finally hit him that you were even up, “Can’t sleep?”

You cleared your throat as you glanced up at him, for a brief second before focusing back on the goggles, “I had that dream again.” You kept your head down, not wanting to see the worry in Wrecker’s eyes.

“Mesh’la, you know we’d never abandon you.”

That dream, that horrendous dream of someone walking away from you, and no matter how hard you scream, no matter the tears streaming down your face or how outstretched your hand is, they refuse to turn back. You try to run after them, only for you to realize you’re standing in quicksand and the harder you struggle the more it swallows you whole. That’s when it hits you, you’re alone, they didn’t come back for you. They didn’t bother to fight for you, and no matter how much you shower them with love, no matter how much you plead and beg, they leave you alone, to be swallowed by the darkness.

Wrecker gently touches your shoulder, softly puts the weight of his hand on you letting you know he was there. He was always there. “Mesh’la, please look at me” he tilted his head down to catch your eyes; and as much as you wanted to avoid him, you couldn’t. Not when he speaks in that soft tone, when he does everything he can to get you to look at him. And especially, since you finished putting back Tech’s goggles.

Despite your inner voice, your eyes slowly shift and focus on him.

“Mesh’la, we would never leave you. You know that. We all love you. You’re family and our friend.” He took a deep breath as he shifted closer, his hand cupping your cheek, “I’ll never leave you. Even if I lose my mind and it tries to tell me to leave you behind, I couldn’t. My …” he cleared his throat, “my heart won’t let me leave you.”

Tears slide down your cheeks as you look at Wrecker, “You mean it?”

“Mesh’la, I love you; you know that. Why would I ever leave you? You are my soul, my heart, and my breath. You’re my life. How could I leave the very person that makes my heart beat?”

“I don’t know” you wipe away a tear, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you’d never leave, I know you love me, but every time I have that dream - - everything I know … it just…”

“It just gets drowned out by the nightmare.” You nod in agreement, wiping another tear, as Wrecker guides you to his lap, he holds you close, his arms caging you in keeping you safe. He presses a kiss to your forehead as one of his hands gently strokes your head. “Mesh’la, regardless of how much that dream drowns out your reality, I’ll be there to pull you out. My arms are strong enough to lift a shuttle, I can lift you out of your nightmare.”

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, “Thank you, love. I love you, more than I can say.”

“I love you, too. Nothing you say or do, no outside force, or even inside force could make me abandon you. Even death won’t make me leave you.” He places a gentle kiss on your temple, holding you as close as possible, “Okay? I promise. I will never leave you.”

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

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ramblers-lets-get-ramblin · 10 months

Text

Linger On- Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: E MDNI 18+

Warnings: not much this chapter. Angst, infidelity, allusions to sex, mentions of divorce, Joel Miller Tears TM, Tommy Miller is a little shit

Immersability: reader is able-bodied. can have/has had a child.

Author’s Notes: Y’all this chapter feels so weird to me. It doesn’t feel like it flows at all. I needed to include a bunch of this to transition to the next arc but idk. Any feedback is appreciated. I may be stepping away from the fic for a week or two to clear my head about it. I will DEFINITELY come back to it. But i would spend some time working on some of my other WIPs. I purposely DID NOT leave a cliffhanger just in case. I think its good to step away from when it isn’t working right. Please bear with me if the next chapter doesn’t come out for a bit. I love you all and your enthusiasm for this story really fires me up to write it. New things are on the horizon for Joel and Sweets and also my upcoming fics!

Fall 1999

Joel freezes at the bottom of the stairs. Clad in only his black boxer briefs and with two full glasses of water in his hands, there isn’t much he can do to make this look like anything other than what it is. He turns towards the door and lets out a sigh of relief when he hears Tommy’s voice call out. “Joel? Sweets? Y’all here?”

“Goddamnit, Tommy! You scared the shit outta me!” Joel exclaims forgetting, in his relief, about the compromising position he’s found himself in. Tommy stops in his tracks, eyes wide, with the door wide open.

“Joel? What the fuck, man?” Tommy spits.

“Close the fuckin’ door, Tommy. You tryin’ to give the whole neighborhood a free show? What the hell are you doin’ here anyway?”

“You asked me to help put the finishin’ touches on Sweets’ bathroom. Don’tcha remember? I was knocking but nobody answered. Guess I know why, now.” Tommy chuckles. Joel hangs his head back and sighs. “I fuckin’ forgot. Fuck, I’m sorry, man.” Joel walks back towards the kitchen and sets the glasses of water down on the island.

“Sweets. You, uh, you better get down here.” Joel calls up the stairs.

Tommy has a wicked grin plastered on his face. “Joel Miller, you dirty dog.” Tommy teases.

“Cut it out. I mean it.” Joel says sternly.

Joel sucks air through his teeth when you descend the stairs wearing only his t-shirt. “Joel? What’s going on, baby?” You ask. Joel turns to face you and jerks his head to the side. It’s only then that you notice Tommy in the kitchen, grinning ear to ear.

“Well, now. What do we have here?” Tommy asks while pinching the hem of Joel’s shirt, causing it to rise. You slap his hand away.

“Tommy!” You groan and bury your face in your hands. Tommy roars with laughter. Full on belly-laugh with his head thrown back.

“Oh, c’mon, y’all. I can’t be the only one who saw this comin’ from a mile away?” Tommy looks between the two of you before breaking out into laughter again. “Idiots. The both of ya.” He says with a shake of his head. “I’ll let you two get back to it. I expect to be hearin’ all about this later.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or Joel but you suspect both.

As soon as the front door is closed behind him, you turn to look at Joel. He must see the fear in your eyes because he gathers you into his arms immediately. You are comforted by the warm strength of him. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Tommy ain’t gonna say nothin’.” And you know he won’t. Tommy would never do anything to hurt either one of you. You were more worried that getting caught would send Joel running as far and fast away from you as he could. You suppose it will take some time to get over that. The feeling that he’s just gonna walk away from you again. But he might, a little voice in your head says. The voice isn’t wrong. You aren’t his wife. He isn’t yours anymore.

“Let’s go back upstairs, huh?’ Joel says into your hair. You nod and allow him to lead you back to your bedroom. You spend the rest of the morning in bed, relearning each other’s bodies. The finishing touches never end up getting done in the bathroom. Joel joins you in the shower. He moans as you scrub the shampoo into his scalp. You use your shampoos as opposed to Steve’s. You wouldn’t be able to take him smelling like your husband. He helps you dry off and watches you dress yourself. Like he’s taking you all in, committing you to memory. You walk him to the door, your hand never leaving his. He cups both of your cheeks and plants a devastating kiss on your lips. A kiss so full of want and love and hope, you just know in your heart it won’t be the last.

“I’ll call ya tonight, baby. After I talk with her.” He presses a kiss into your forehead and climbs into his truck. You slump against the door and find yourself once again asking, “what the fuck am I gonna do?”

Joel arrives home before Val and Sarah. He takes the opportunity to walk around his house. Even though they had lived here seven years it never really felt like home. The family pictures that covered the walls told the story of his life with Val and Sarah. Unfortunately, the story they told was a lie. Not with Sarah, never with her. But the way he and Val held hands or he wrapped his arms around her, none of that was real. Maybe nobody had noticed that the smile in the photos had never reached his eyes. He knows now, more than ever, that he never had a chance at being truly happy without you. He should have taken you up on your offer to stay in Austin. He could have had ten years worth of genuine happiness. You could have helped him raise his daughter, had a few kids of your own. What Joel wouldn’t give to see you swollen with his baby. To watch you and Sarah chase a toddler around the backyard of his parents’ home. You’d have never asked him to buy anything “nicer” or “newer.” You loved that house almost as much as he did. Joel sighs and makes his way to his bedroom. He goes to his closet and pulls out two duffel bags. He’s packing the last of his necessities when he hears the front door open. He steels himself and heads out of his room to find his wife.

“Hey, can we talk?” He asks. She’s already in the kitchen, rifling through the refrigerator and cabinets, hunting ingredients for dinner. She sees the seriousness in her husband’s eyes and looks over to Sarah at the dining room table.

“Hey baby, why don’t you go do your homework in your room today? You can watch SpongeBob.” Sarah perks up at the idea and runs to her room, pausing to give Joel a kiss. Once her door has been shut, unknowingly sheltering herself from the dissolution of her family, Val nods towards the back porch. She sits on the bench Joel had built, not the one from his childhood home, and crosses her arms over her chest. Instinctively protecting her heart from the man she had unwillingly fallen in love with. She knows what’s coming. She’s been expecting this talk for weeks.

“I’m guessin’ it turned into somethin’?” She questions him. Joel shifts his weight uncomfortably. He knows about her feelings for him. She told him one night, years ago, when they’d both had too much to drink and had fallen into bed together. He knows this is going to hurt her a lot more than him. He’s never felt anything more for her than he had the day they got married. He told her as much that night, and with tears in her eyes, she told Joel she understood. She just wanted to let him know where she stood. Because they’ve always been honest with each other about everything.

“Yeah. It has. I'm sorry-“ she cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Joel. I know how you feel about her, how you’ve always felt. She’s always gonna be the one for you.” It takes everything in her to fight the tears she feels in her eyes. but she doesn’t want him to see them. She wants this choice to be his. “Is she leaving her husband?” Val asks quietly. Joel shrugs his shoulders in response.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know.” She can tell that he’s fighting his own emotions. Neither of them feel comfortable being vulnerable with the other anymore.

“Are you gonna be okay with that? Being the other man?”

“If that's all I get, then i s’pose I’ll have to be. I can’t go back to bein’ nothin’ to her.” Joel replies softly. “I’m gonna go stay with Tommy. I’ll call the lawyer tomorrow and have the papers drawn up. Obviously you keep this house and your car, anythin’ you want really.” Val’s shoulder slump, she’s been expecting that something would happen but she really hadn’t thought far enough ahead to even consider divorce.

“What are we gonna tell our daughter, Joel?” Her voice is almost a whisper.

“Well, I don’t think we should tell her tonight. I think we all need a little time to process everythin’. But then, we just tell her the truth. That we love her and we’ll both always be here for her.”

Val nods and hugs herself tighter. “Can you go now?” She pleads. “I’d really like to be alone.” Joel nods and moves towards her. He places his hand on her shoulder and she briefly leans into his touch before stiffening.

“I really am sorry about this. I’ll go say goodnight to Sarah and grab my stuff.” He pauses outside his daughter’s still closed door. The sounds of SpongeBob SquarePants and her laughter fill his ears. With another deep sigh he knocks on her door and pushes it open when she says

“Come in!” He joins Sarah and her forgotten homework on her bed.

“Hey baby girl, I just wanted to come tell you goodnight. I’m going to spend the night at Uncle Tommy’s tonight.” She can barely tear her eyes away from the t.v.

“Okay, Daddy. Have fun with Uncle Tommy.” Joel almost loses the hold on the tears he’s been fighting since the porch.

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?” He asks her. She turns and gives him a million watt smile, the gaps in her teeth making her impossibly cuter.

“Goodnight, Daddy. I love you.” Joel wraps her up in his arms and hugs her tightly.

“I love you baby girl. I love you so much.”

She taps his arm several times. “Too tight, Daddy!” She says in a mocking groan. Joel releases her with a kiss to the crown of her head. He takes one last look around her room before he grabs his bags and walks out the door.

By the time he arrives at Tommy’s house, he’s given up holding the tears back. Tommy just opens the door and wordlessly invites him in. Joel sits on the couch and Tommy brings him a beer. He sits on the coffee table across from the couch and looks at his big brother. The man who’d been a father to him for longer than their own father had a chance to. Who raised him to do the right thing, and taught him how to be a man. Who’d saved his ass from more run-ins than Tommy could ever keep track of. Tommy could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Joel cry. He wanted to know what was going on so badly. But he knew Joel wasn’t in the place for it at the moment. So he just sat there, watching, waiting, in case Joel needed anything. He eventually swapped the beer out for whiskey, and carried Joel’s bags into the spare room. Tommy figured he could clear the junk out of his gym by the weekend and they could start fixing it up for Sarah. Tommy knows without needing to be told that his brother is home for good now.

You keep your promise to Jamie that afternoon and call Steve at his office. You have to choke down vomit when Natalie answers and says he’s busy. “This is his wife , and it is an emergency. Put my husband on the phone, now.” You demand.

‘What’s wrong?’ He asks in a worried tone when he finally gets on the line. You excuse yourself to the ground floor office that is full of your paining supplies so that Jamie can’t overhear you.

“What’s wrong is that you haven’t been home in three fucking weeks. What’s wrong is that our son cried the entire way to school this morning because you haven't bothered to call in almost two weeks. What the fuck is wrong with you?” You’ve never spoken to Steve this way. He’s never seen even a hint of the fiery girl you used to be. But you’ve had just about enough of this shit.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I’ve just been up to my eyeballs at work here.” He tries to defend his behavior.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have.” You snap.

“How is the bathroom coming along? Did Joel come by to finish today?” You can hear the worry in his voice. He’s waiting to find out if Joel told you or not.

“No, actually. He called this morning and said that something had come up with his family. He’ll stop by tomorrow to finish up.” Another lie. But this time you don’t feel so bad. Finding out that Steve had been telling his own lies made yours a little easier to swallow. You hear him breathe a sigh of relief. What an asshole. You think.

“Honey, can we just-“

“I don’t really have much else to say to you right now, Steve. I’m going to put your son on the phone. You are going to resume your nightly calls to him. If you miss even one night I will drive to San Antonio to find out what’s been keeping you so busy you forgot that you have a wife and child.” You yank the phone from your ear before you can hear any of his protestations.

You walk back to the kitchen and hand Jamie the phone while you fix him a snack. You cringe a little when you hear him tell his father about helping Joel. Jamie’s mood seems much improved from this morning. He eats his snack and the two of you happily walk hand in hand to your parent’s house. He doesn’t hesitate to climb into his regular spot in grandpa’s lap. You notice that your father doesn’t seem as enthusiastic as he usually does. He mostly just listens. You phone the night nurse to see if she has noticed any change in his condition. She says he just seems more tired than usual and that it is normal for bedridden patients to go through bouts of depression. She assures you that Jamie’s visits have kept his spirits high and that your father tells her every story that Jamie tells him.

When you return home late in the evening you find that your worries about Steve and Joel have morphed into worry about your father. You aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you just got him back. You mentally kick yourself for staying away so long. You want to blame Joel for that but you can’t. It was your choice to stay away. You had wasted 10 years. You had stolen 7 years from your parents and your son that they could have had together. The phone ringing interrupts your thoughts. The called ID shows Tommy’s number and you answer the phone with a laugh. “You’re gonna have to get your gossip elsewhere, Miller. There’s no way in hell I’m telling you a thing.” You answer the phone with a laugh.

“Hey, baby. It’s me.” Joel replies instead of Tommy.

“Joel? Are you at Tommy’s? You ask.

“Yeah, I…moved back in over here. Val and I are gettin’ a divorce.” You gasp in surprise. You don’t know what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t anything this drastic, this quickly.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Joel?” Suddenly your chest feels tight. You aren’t sure you are prepared to make the same move.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It was time. Hell, its been time for years, now.” Joel sighs heavily into the phone. “I’m gonna come by tomorrow so we can talk properly. I just wanted to let ya know where I’m gonna be in case you need to get ahold of me.”

“Are you alright?” You ask.

“I will be. I’m just sad for Sarah. And Val. But this is absolutely the right move for me. For us .” He adds quietly.

“As long as you’re sure. I support you in whatever you need to do. If you can’t come work tomorrow I understand.”

“Darlin’, I think seein’ you is about the only thing that can make me feel any better about all this. I’ll see ya in the mornin’. I love you, sweets.”

“Goodnight, Joel. See you the morning.” You hang up the phone. You notice that Joel has said “I love you” to you several times over the last day. You haven’t said it back but he hasn’t mentioned it. Joel is a patient man. Especially when it comes to something he wants. You do love him, of course. But everything is happening so quickly. It was just this morning that you found out your husband is being unfaithful to you. It was just this morning that you broke your own wedding vows.

Joel’s marriage is ending. Because of you. Does he expect you to divorce Steve? Jamie has been through so much recently without the added stress of a broken home. Although you aren’t sure if it’s possible for it to get anymore broken than it already is.

Once Jamie is in bed for the night you find yourself back in the office downstairs. You go through all the bags your mother had given you, taking the different painting supplies out. Canvasses and even an easel are joined by nearly every size paintbrush and probably a hundred different paints. You look around the unfurnished room and are struck with an idea that might make everyone a little happier.

When Joel arrives the next morning you let him into the house and as soon as the door is closed he sweeps you into his arms and his lips crash into yours. You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him in close. He finally breaks the kiss to come up for air. “Good morning to you too, Miller.” You laugh against his lips.

“Been waitin’ to do that, Sugar.”

“Well I hope it was worth the wait.” You reply.

“I’d wait for you forever, darlin’.” Joel says sincerely. You can hear what he isn’t saying. He’s not going to pressure you into making any decisions right now. You would have thought it was impossible to love this man anymore than you already did.

“Come on!” You tell him. “I’ve got a brilliant idea.” You lead him towards the first floor office.

You open the door and the both of you step inside. “I want to turn this into a studio where I can paint.” You tell him.

“What did you have in mind?” He asks. You run through all of the ideas you had stayed up late the night before coming up with. He agrees with most of them and suggest changes to others. You defer to him on those. He’s the professional, after all. “Do you need to talk to Steve, first?” He asks.

You scoff. “I don’t think I need Steve’s permission for anything, anymore. He wanted the house fixed up and the checking account has my name on it, too.” Joel raises an eyebrow at you. “Besides, I know a good contractor. I’m sure he’ll cut me a deal.” You throw Joel a wink and a smile.

“Guess I’ll have to get used to puttin’ up with ya, in that case.” He chuckles before wrapping you up in arms once again.

You finally pull yourselves apart so that you can go relieve the night nurse. She informs you that your father seems to have perked up since the night before, much to your relief. On her way out the door she stops and turns to you. “Your son is seven, right?” She asks.

“Yes he is. Why?”

“Well, my son is also seven and I had an idea. Your father seem to love the time that he spends with Jamie and I was wondering how you would feel about a sleepover. I’ll bring my son Friday night when I come to work and you can just leave Jamie here with us. I’ll set them up in the living room with Paul, and they can eat junk food and watch action movies. I think the boys will have a great time and it’ll do Paul a world of good too.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Stef. Thank you so much for all you do for him. We really appreciate you.” She gives you a quick hug and heads out.

When you and Jamie return home that evening, you find a note from Joel on your bathroom counter. “Be by in the morning. Be ready to go.” Go where? You wonder with a smile. You can’t wait to let him know that you will have a whole night together.

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 months

Note

hi my dearest

any fics that are based on a movie? or good alternative meeting ones?

Hi Lovely!

I've got a TONNE of Movie-inspired fics! What a grand excuse to post the next part of my Crossovers list! Hope you enjoy all of these!! I've also gone through my MFL list to pad out this list a bit more, hee hee.

If anyone has some more to add that isn't on one of my numerous movie / TV-related lists, please do!

And finally, I actually ALSO had WiPs on this list but I had to remove them because Tumblr has a link limit, so if you guys want me to post a separate 2.5 list with those on it, just let me know! I've about 20 MORE fics I could add here :P

MOVIE / BOOK / TV CROSSOVERS and FUSIONS Pt 2

See also:

Crossovers & Fusions Pt 1

Crossovers & Fusions Pt 1.5 (MFL)

Fairy Tales and Fantasy

TV, Movies, and Books AU (Fantasy Pt. 2)

Wonderful Life AU

Sherlock / Hannibal Crossovers

Science Fiction / Fantasy

Urban / Modern Fantasy

Disney-esque Fics

Moulin Rouge AU

TV Show AU

Sherlock x Good Omens Crossovers (Updated Apr 2022)

Hogwarts / Wizarding World AU (MFLs) (Potterlock)

BOOKMARKS

In The End by whitchry9 (K+, 9,677 w., 17 Ch. || Memento Fusion || Amnesia, Growing Old, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Heavy Angst) – When a brain injury leaves Sherlock unable to make new memories, John wonders how Sherlock will cope, and what it will mean for The Work and their life. Because after all, how can you live if you can't feel time passing?

Domestic Matters by ohlooktheresabee (M, 29,404 w., 6 Ch. || Fantasy AU || First Meetings, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, BAMF Sherlock, BAMF John, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Supernatural Elements, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse, Elf Sherlock, Human/Elf Politics, Emotional Abuse, Possessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Buddy Greg) – All flatmates need to work out domestic matters between them - who does the dishes, who takes out the rubbish, how often does the carpet need to be vacuumed - these are part and parcel of sharing a living space together. However, when you’re an elf and your flatmate is going to be a human you just met, this rather complicates things…Very loosely inspired by 'The Elves and The Shoemaker' by The Brothers Grimm.

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Past Soldier John, Panic Attacks, POV Alternating Present Tense, Anxious John, Canon Adjacent, Deductions, Obsessive Sherlock,, Travelling, Sherlock’s Family, Jealous Sherlock, Mind Palace John, Awkward Flirting, Batting Cage, Kidnapped/Abducted John, Semi-Reverse Reichenbach, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Hospital, Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma John, Forehead Touching, Hand Holding, Drinking/Bars, Past Jolto) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

MARKED FOR LATER

Asteroidea by etothepii (T, 1,769 w., 1 Ch. || His Dark Materials Fusion || Daemon Sherlock) – In the pocket of his trousers, next to his phone, Mycroft carries the standard-issue steel capsule meant for protecting arthropod daemons. When people ask about it, he smiles and tells them she's not fond of the light, or of people other than himself. This is a lie. [TRANSLATION: Русский] Part 1 of Asteroidea

Have we met before? by avalanching effect (G, 2,013 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock and Co. Crossover || Crack / Humour, Holding Hands, Banter, POV John) – "Uhm, we got an anonymous tip about some suspicious activity that would be happening in Regent's park today, thank you anonymous tip giver. It said— actually I don't know what it said, it was sent directly to Sherlock and he won't let me read it."

Rider on the Storm by swabloo (G, 3,715 w., 1 Ch. || Alex Rider Crossover || BAMF John) – Sometimes he thinks about turning to Sherlock and saying, 'look, my name isn't actually John,' and telling him about how he's been living off adrenaline since he was fourteen.

The Unexpected Threat by J_Baillier (T, 4,283 w., 1 Ch. || Military AU / Pacific Rim Fusion || Established Relationship, Medical Conditions, Coronaviruses, Doctor John, Bratty Sherlock, Romance, Science Fiction, Futuristic Medicine, Ghost Drifting AKA Telepathy, Medical Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Healing) – The kaiju are not the only threat to the security and well-being of the staff of PPDC's Chard's Rift base. It's the year 2050, and a coronavirus epidemic sweeping the planet has reached The Azores. Part 4 of the At The Edge of Our Hope

lionheart by dreamweavernyx (G, 4,851 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Character Study, Friendship) – Some days, Molly finds her eyes straying to that drawer in her desk, the one holding a slim piece of wood and the memories of a life she's left behind.

Queer Eye: Johnlock Edition by fellshish (T, 5,799 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Queer Eye Fusion || Post S4, Humour, Angst with Happy Ending, Reality TV, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – John is Not Gay, Sherlock is Married to his Work. It’s been years and years, and Molly is fed up with her clueless friends. She nominates John for the new season of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’, and asks the Fab Five to not only renew his closet, but drag the man out of it.

Friend by esama (G, 7,909 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Character Death, Kid Fic) – Sherlock finds the skull when he's five.

Every Atom of This Summer on My Tongue by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 9,524 w., 5 Ch. || 1980’s / Call Me By Your Name Fusion || Summer Romance, Desire, Pining, Angst With Happy Ending, POV Sherlock, Sexual Experimentation, Masturbation, Emotional Sex, Sensuality, 1980s Italy) – While vacationing at his family’s villa on the Italian coast, 18-year-old Sherlock finds himself attracted to John Watson, an older American graduate student working on his first novel. They fall into a passionate affair, desperately wishing their languid afternoons and sultry summer nights would never end.(Inspired by the novel 'Call Me By Your Name.' You don't need to have read the book or seen the film to enjoy this.)

All Is Fine by Iwantthatcoat (T, 11,063 w., 7 Ch. || Zoolander Crossover || Agender / Nonbinary Sherlock, Occasional Transphobic Language) – Sherlock's on a case...undercover at an exclusive fashion show as a model. That's right... he's giving it his All. Pop stars are dying, and there's one common thread...a scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and it's our duty to unravel it, and isolate it, and...make a really nice garment out of it.

Takes Two To Tango by phqyd_roar (E, 12,956 w., 6 Ch. || Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Crossover || Sherlock/Iain & Johnlock || Post S4 Fix It, Jealous John, Whirlwind Romance, Fluff and Angst, Dirty Talk, Bottom Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Alternate Ending) – Just when Sherlock Holmes is beginning to think his relationship with John Watson will never recover from all its ups and downs, he meets Iain MacKelpie, freelance photographer back from Afghanistan, who looks exactly like John Watson.

Better Call Sherlock by Gregorovitch (M, 13,032 w., 4 Ch. || Better Call Saul Crossover || Established Relationship, Case Fic, Legal Drama, Implied Sex, Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John are assigned a case in Albuquerque, New Mexico this time. Shenanigans ensue, with lots of chicanery.

The Adventure of Downton Abbey by PlaidAdder (T, 13,427 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon / Downton Abby Crossover || Undercover for a Case, Case Fic) – Desperate to free her husband from prison, Anna Smith Bates tracks down Holmes in the country retreat he shares with Dr. Watson and persuades him to come out of retirement and investigate the death of Vera Bates. Holmes visits Downton Abbey under an assumed identity, with Watson in disguise as his valet. Working together again helps them cope with a recent trauma that severely tested their longstanding relationship--and also allows them to uncover a solution consistent with and yet so much more satisfying than the one used on the actual show.

Scream! by johnwatso (E, 15,250 w., 8 Ch. || Scream Crossover || Post S4, Horror / Slasher, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Case Fic, Minor Character Death, Copycat Killer, Three Garridebs Moment) – An unknown number starts calling Sherlock and asking questions about horror movies. John is pretty sure it's a serial killer.

The Sinking Of The Titanic: Sixty Years Later by flawedamythyst (T, 15,340 w., 1 Ch. || Historical Titanic Fusion || John POV, Deaths) – John Watson is interviewed for a documentary being made for the sixtieth anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. The story he tells is not the one the interviewer was expecting.

Sanctuary by a_different_equation (E, 15,437 w., 7 Ch. || Medieval AU / Canterbury Tales Fusion || Blacksmith Sherlock, Guard John, Secret Relationship, Dom Sherlock, Sub John, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, BAMF Female Characters) – England, 1230: John Watson is an ex-soldier who works as the head of the guards in his hometown. Sherlock Holmes, the local blacksmith, is his secret.

Over Cloud and Under Cloud by khorazir (T, 16,477 w., 3 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Cabin Pressure Crossover || Post-TRF, Angst, Humour, Pre-Slash, Pining) – After his Fall, Sherlock travels the world to destroy what remains of James Moriarty's criminal empire. When things don't go according to plan and he finds himself in desperate need of a discreet means of travel, cue MJN Air... Part 1 of the Over/Under series

The Hopes and Fears of all the Years by Joaquinbumblebee24 (T, 16,567 w., 11 Ch. || House MD Crossover || UAP Divergence, Illness, Medical Inaccuracies, Alternating POVs, POV House, POV John, Medical Professionals, Developing Relationship, Flashbacks, Sports References, Neurology/Neuroscience) – 27 years ago, House became the father of Sherlock Holmes. 27 years later, every father's worst nightmare came true when Sherlock's roommate, John Watson, called in the middle of the night to inform House that his son was ill.

It's About Time, Don't You Think by WaywardSpark (M, 17,113 w., 4 Ch. || About Time Fusion || Time Traveller John, Romantic Comedy, Magical Realism, Bars and Pubs, Pining John, Background Case) – If you were to ask Sherlock Holmes where he and John Watson met for the first time, he would confidently be able to tell you Lab room 2, St Bart's Hospital, London, 29th of January 2010 at 11:47 in the morning. For John Watson, it's an entirely different story.

In Arduis Fidelis by Raliena (T, 18,628 w., 10 Ch. || GI Joe Crossover || Captivity, Surgery, BAMF John, John “Three Continents” Watson, POV John Watson, Prisoner of War, Cobra - Freeform, soldier John, John-centric, Doctor John Watson, John is a Very Good Doctor, Violence) – Once upon a time John was a Soldier and a Doctor. And he was known John or Doc or Doctor. But things change. And he *earned* his right to the name “Three Continents Watson”. Part 1 of the Three Continents Watson series

Hinder-Them Holmes by breathesomeday (T, 19,485 w., 1 Ch. || Wreck-It Ralph Fusion / Gaming AU || Angst, Fluff) – “My name is Sherlock Holmes and I’m a bad guy.”

Until the End of my Days by chervilspotatoes (M, 20,272 w., 20 Ch. || Merlin Crossover / Medieval Magical AU || Sorcerer Sherlock, Prince John, Pining Sherlock, Developing Relationship, Teenlock, Servant Sherlock, BAMF Sherlock, BAMF John, Heroic Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Alternating POV, Protective Greg, Love Confessions, Soul Bond / Mates, Happy Ending) – Sherlock learns to embrace his destiny as Prince John's protector, but soon realizes he is in love with the unavailable prince. However, this knowledge does not stop him from staying by John's side as John becomes king and faces unforeseen circumstances.

If I had a boat I would sail to you by Sunnyrea (E, 20,576 w., 1 Ch. || Titanic Fusion) – John is completely different and special from anyone Sherlock would normally come in contact with - no talk of money and hidden family secrets, no surface, superfluous conversations and blatant lies. John was the most honest person in less than five minutes Sherlock has ever met. He wants to know everything else there is to know about John Watson.

I wake up and I wake up and you're still dead by thisprettywren (M, 24,226 w., 1 Ch. || Memento Fusion AU || Amnesia, Timelines, Case Fic) – Sherlock isn't the only one who's lost.

Lost At Sea by orphan_account (T, 24,445 w., 11 Ch. || Titanic Crossover || Johnlock and Adlock) – John Watson boards Titanic looking for a new life, free from all those terrible things he's seen and done. Sherlock Holmes boards Titanic reluctant, bound to a woman he does not want. Two souls, bathing in the stars forever, lost at sea.

hurry home by augustbird (E, 25,606 w., 1 Ch. || Skyfall / Bond Fusion || Sherlock as Q, John as 007) – When John is recruited into the MI6 to track down a security leak, he didn’t expect it to get this out of hand. At least he has Sherlock Holmes. Skyfall fusion. Sequel to us against.

The Man in the Crimson Cloak by Aelaer (T, 25,968 w., 6 Ch. || Dr. Strange Crossover || Post-S1 / Post Avengers Endgame, No Johnlock, Action / Adventure, POV Sherlock, Dimension Travel, BAMF Strange, BAMF Sherlock, Bratty Sherlock) – Sherlock’s terribly ordinary and outright dull day turns into something well beyond his wildest dreams when a most interesting stranger enters his flat. Part 3 of the Adventures Throughout the Multiverse series

A Visit To The Doctor by flawedamythyst (T, 28,318 w., 1 Ch. || ACD/BBC Crossover || Time Travel, Hollywood Physics) – When Watson gets ill, Holmes goes to extraordinary lengths to get him well again.

The Unsinkable Ship by drjohnhwatson (NR, 36,758 w., 5 Ch. || ACD Canon Holmes Titanic Fusion || Retirement, Established Relationship, Historical References) – Holmes and Watson board Titanic for her maiden voyage.

Keeping It Loki by AtlinMerrick (E, 39,016 w., 11 Ch. || MCU Crossover || Loki/Sherlock and Johnlock, Oral Sex, Banter, Storytelling, Dream Sex, Wet Dream, Anal, Sexy Talk, Domestics) – Look, it was a dream god damn it. It was just a sexy, toe-curling, kinky, cock-hardening, *wet* dream. Yet it didn't matter how many times John told Sherlock that, Sherlock got all red-faced and stalked out of the sitting room, and then stalked back with his mouth open but stalked off again without actually saying anything. Yes, well John Watson knew precisely what to do about that.

A Lost Heart - An Empty Home by Raliena (T, 41,183 w., 21 Ch. || GI Joe Fusion || TEH / Post-TFP, Mystery, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Three Continents Watson, Violence, BAMF John, Soldier John, Sherlock-centric) – Nearly three years have passed since Sherlock jumped, and now he comes home to finish what he started. He wants to finish with John by his side. But that may not be as simple as he first thought. Part 3 of Three Continents Watson

The Baker Street House by qalets (T, 42,046 w., 13 Ch. || Lake House Fusion || Mollstrade, Alternate Timelines, Time Travel, Epistolary, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Pining, Mutual Pining, Emotional Constipation, London) – At the end of his tenancy in a flat in Baker Street Dr John Watson starts a tentative correspondence with the previous tenant: a Mr Sherlock Holmes. But Sherlock only just moved in. Together, while two years apart, they begin to fall for each other through letters, while life, and cases, continue around them.

Here We Go Again by disfictional (E, 46,687 w., 10 Ch. || Mama Mia-Inspired Fusion || Post-S4, Older Rosie, Alternating POV, Reunion, Retirement, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Coming Out, Parentlock, Weddings, Fluff and Angst) – Ransacking some old trunks, Rosie Watson finds her father's old journal filled with remnants of a blog he used to keep about his association with Sherlock Holmes. In an attempt to meet the man who had a profound impact on her early years, Rosie invites the long-estranged detective to her wedding under false pretences.

Whirlwind by DiscordantWords (M, 50,640 w., 10 Ch. || WiP || Twister Fusion || Bad Weather, Storm Chasing, Post Break Up, Reunions, Non-Linear Narrative, Mutual Pining, Angst with Happy Ending) – New job, new truck, new fiancée... John Watson, former storm chaser, has settled into a comfortable new life. There's only one problem: John's already married. And the the divorce papers he's been sending to his former partner, Sherlock Holmes, keep going missing. So with his fiancée Mary by his side, John reluctantly makes a trip to see him in the hopes of finalizing their divorce once and for all. But John arrives in the midst of a very active storm season, and Sherlock very clearly hasn’t let go of the past. Against his better judgement, John finds himself talked into riding along after one last storm.

The Lost Duke by SelfSameLine (M, 51,395 w., 13 Ch. || Anastasia Fusion || Romance, Kidlock, Royalty, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers) – "We’re looking for him.” John pointed up the stairs to the portrait hanging proudly against the wall. It was blackened and torn in places, but two faces, one of a pretty woman and one of a dark haired boy remained unmarred, staring blankly out into the night.The boy’s eyebrows knitted together. “A royal?” Lestrade huffed. “The lost duke, yes. Haven’t you heard of him?”

If He Be Worthy by AndyHood (T, 58,110 w, 18 Ch. || Avengers / MCU Crossover || Friendship, Adventure) – In the aftermath of the alien invasion of London, Coulson's team is set out to retrieve a man, a man that had picked up Thor's hammer. John Watson hadn't meant to get mixed up in the alien invasion only intending to repay a favor. He had only been surveying the damage done by the aliens when he had tripped on a hammer, he didn't know the significance of being able to pick it up.

Il Traviato by kedgeree (E, 68,809 w., 18 Ch. || Pretty Woman Fusion || Romance, Prostitution, Case Fic, False Identity, First Kiss/Time) – A down-on-his-luck ex-soldier meets a wealthy businessman in need of a short-term companion. [TRANSLATION: 中文-普通话國語]

Real Time by Callie4180 (T, 74,935 w., 25 Ch. || 24 Fusion || Creepy Moriarty, Violence, BAMF Mrs Hudson, Suggestions of Torture, Biochemist Sherlock, Bodyguard John) – The world is under the threat of a biological weapon, and a brilliant biochemist needs protection. His own life is a mess, and he doesn't know who he can trust. He's going to have to be at his best every moment if he's going to survive. This is going to be the longest day of John Watson's life.

So Grant Us All a Change of Heart by ArwaMachine (E, 83,276 w., 5 Ch. || Christmas Carol Fusion || T6T Compliant, Pining, Angst with Happy Ending, Smut, Temporary Character Death, Drug Use / Reference, Suicide) – It’s Christmastime at Baker Street, but things are far from festive. Mary is dead, John and Sherlock’s friendship is all but ruined, and Sherlock has become a right dick about everything. More convinced than ever that sentiment is objectively useless, Sherlock needs a little paranormal intervention to see the error of his ways or else run the risk of losing all that is important to him.

I Am a Camera by mom2boys (T, 89,929 w., 36 Ch. || Enola Holmes Crossover || Developing Relationship, WW2 / Spanish Civil War, Weimar Germany, Period-Typical Homophobia, Nazi Germany, Fascism, Promiscuity, Espionage, BAMF John, Closeted John, Angst With Happy Ending) – So begins John H. Watson's Great Work. It is the story of two men who meet just before the tide of war and fascism sweeps across Europe and the world. Circumstances will separate them, but the arc of history is long and bends towards love.

The Hollow Ones by antietamfalls (M, 100,244 w., 23 Ch. || Walking Dead Fusion || Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Build, Emotional Constipation, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort) – The dead walk. Mangled corpses of the deceased rise and mindlessly feast upon the flesh of the living. John wakes up, alone and confused, into the remnants of a city gone mad. He will search for answers. He will find Sherlock at any cost. And he will learn that the living are far more dangerous than the dead.

Metamorphosis by KtwoNtwo (T, 101,597 w., 29 w., || James Bond / Skyfall Fusion / Werewolf AU || Post-Skyfall, Werewolf Bond, Werewolf Q, Case Fic, Slow Build, Q is a Holmes) – “Other duties as assigned” takes on a whole new meaning when James Bond returns from a mission and finds himself juggling his 00 status, preternatural politics and having to act as pack leader to a newly created werewolf. Part 1 of The Government Pack

Keep the Car Running by earlgreytea68 (M, 125,124 w., 31 Ch. || Inception Fusion || Tags to Be Added) – If Mycroft Holmes lived in a world where people could steal information from the subconsciouses of others, tell me he wouldn't be all over that when he had Moriarty in custody. Part 1 of KtCR

The Dragon's Spell Series by ImpossibleElement (M, 280,698 w. across 4 works || Descendants Fusion || Alternating POV, Heroes & Villains, Humour, Romance, Mystery, Drama, Slow Burn, Teenlock, Dragons, Dubious Sherlock) – In a world where magic is obsolete and the villains have been trapped inside an island without it; one young man will have a chance to change everything for himself and everyone else. For better or for worse. Definitely for worse.

Wild About Harry Series by PlaidAdder (T, 397,189 w. across 9 works || Doctor Who Crossover || Harry/Clara and Johnlock, Post-TRF, Canon Compliant, Dancing, Case Fics, Morning After, Teamwork, Drug Use, , Christmas, Alcoholism, Fix It Fics, Alternating POVs, Established Relationships) – This started as a post-Reichenbach fic and turned into a series in which Harry Watson is a repeating character. John and Sherlock get together in the first story ("Empty Houses") and thereafter it's either developing relationship or established relationship. Most of this is case fic and long, but there are a few shorter ones.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #crossovers and fusion fics #crossover fics #fusion fics #long post #marked for later fics

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hippolotamus · 1 month

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Fav lines game 💫

rules: share your favorite lines or paragraph you've written from one of your fics, posted or wip.

thanks for the tags @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @tizniz @daffi-990 💖

since I'm indecisive and, like Stevie, do what I want, I'm choosing lines from each of my 'ships

Buddie - from honey, when you call my name

It’s okay. Eddie can ask for this. He can want this. Isn’t it just one of the (many) points Frank’s been trying to get across? That he doesn’t have to settle for the bare minimum of whatever life hands him? That he can request and desire and, most importantly, receive. And anyway, it’s Buck. Who would be more enthusiastic to give than him? “I, uh, want you to have me,” he whispers. “I‘ve never. Not with another person, but. I want you to.” Jesus Christ, for all the confidence he started with he sure can’t seem to find any now. “It’s okay if you haven’t. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking.” Buck presses a kiss to his hair. “You can have it. But I need you to ask me.” Another soft kiss, so light that Eddie could have imagined it. “Need to be sure.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, only for a second though. Because he wants Buck to see, and maybe he wants to allow Buck to see him, here in this sacred space they’re creating. He tilts his head back, baring himself. Offering himself up for Buck to take.

Lutalia - from stay here honey (i don't wanna share)

“You’re not getting soft on me, are you?” Nat teases. “I might start thinking you want me for more than just my body.” Lucy snorts and rolls her eyes. “This is a one-time thing. Don’t get used to it.” “Well, if you’re interested…” She trails off, tracing a finger down the center of Lucy’s chest, over her abdomen, and dragging the sheet down as she goes. She pauses to rub the heel of her palm over Lucy’s neatly trimmed patch of coarse blond curls. Nat’s gaze turns darker, hungrier. Like she’d eat Lucy alive, which doesn’t seem like such a terrible thing. “I don’t mind going back to something more familiar. You know, in the spirit of putting you at ease.” “How very altruistic of you.”

David/Patrick - from I know all your secrets

“Don’t go.” The words are barely more than a whisper. Still, David may as well have screamed them for as raw, vulnerable and hollowed out as he feels. He bites down on the inside of his lower lip, a pitiful, broken attempt to hold himself together. If Patrick wants to leave, David won’t stop him. He’ll stay frozen in place, stone faced and unyielding, until Patrick is gone. Once upon a time he would have tried for nonchalant, but that act is no good anymore. Patrick doesn’t just mean something to him now – he is everything. Anything less and David will crack, bleeding his emotions everywhere until there’s nothing left.

Twylexis - from the with my heart in my lap wip

Twyla steadies herself, maintaining her hold on Alexis so they’re almost walking as one down the sidewalk. She’s a comforting line of warmth huddled against Alexis’s side. Her cheeks are pink and flushed from dancing, and her lips curl up in a satisfied smile. “Wasn’t that fun?” Twyla stops abruptly to look up. “That was fun.” “Yeah, doll. It was,” Alexis assures her, tapping a finger to the tip of Twyla’s nose and indulging in the soft chuckle it earns her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have gone with Tommy? He was having a really great time dancing with you.” Twyla’s giddiness turns to something more subdued and vulnerable that makes Alexis’s heart twist and ache. “No, Twy.” Alexis presses a kiss to the crown of Twyla’s hair, then tilts her chin to drown in a mesmerizing sea of green. “Trust me when I say there’s nobody in there for me.”

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings

@queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @elvensorceress @fortheloveofbuddie

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1

@rmd-writes @shipperqueen6 @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

@vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @wikiangela

@wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @mrs-f-darcy @drowsy-quill @a-noble-dragon

@blackandwhiteandrose and anyone else who wants to 😘

ps: if you want tagged in stuff like this click here

#tags what *are* you doing????#hippo writes #buddie #lutalia #schitt's creek #twylexis #fav lines tag game

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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To be alone with you 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, cheating, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your babysitting gig becomes complicated. (f!plus sized!reader)

Character: dilf!Clark Kent

Note: Long time, no see.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Spaghetti and meatballs. Simple and delicious. You assume it’s one of Clark’s specialties, the way Jonny talks about it. A plateful steams before you, the garlicky scent tugging at the appetite you hadn’t noticed before.

After the unsettling night alone, you’re starting to feel normal again. It’s comforting to have someone else there, even if it is Clark. He’s not a bad guy, he’s nice enough, it’s just that underlying imbalance that makes it awkward. Technically, he’s your boss. Even if he wasn’t, he’s much older, you’re not sure you have much in common.

“Uh, what do you want to drink?” Clark calls from the kitchen, “I see Sprite and… not much else.”

“Oh, I’ll have one, please,” you answer. You don’t drink soda often, your mom’s the one who keeps the Sprite in the fridge but it’s so hot out you could go for a crisp drink.

You wait patiently, not wanting to be rude and start before he’s sitting down. It only seems right after he went to all the trouble of cooking for you. Clark appears with two glasses. You’re surprised he didn’t just bring the cans but don’t think much of it.

He puts a glass beside your plate, then his own, a few cubes of ice in his. You notice how his hair curls with the heat, a little askew from his efforts in the kitchen. You smile and thank him for the drink.

“This looks good. You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble. Dad left me pizza money.”

“It’s fine. I’m a bit restless without anyone around. I’m used to this,” he shrugs as he sits down, his shoulders wider than the chair. Sometimes you forget how big he is. It’s almost absurd when he’s just an overworked suburban dad in your head.

“Dig in, please. You didn’t have to wait,” he stirs the sauce into his noodles.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you twirl your fork in the pile of pasta. You blow over the steaming sauce and lean forward, tasting it as you try not to flick sauce all over. You hum and do your best to slurp up the ends of the noodles without making a mess. “That’s pretty good.”

“Yep, got more than my good looks,” he chuckles, “I can cook too.”

You smile, taking another bite and chewing through the tension. There’s a bit of zest to the sauce. You can’t disagree with his self-appraisal. He can cook.

You take the folded paper towel next to your plate and wipe your lips before you reach for your soda. You gulp it greedily and nearly choke. You sputter as the carbonation bubbles up to your nostrils.

“You okay?” Clark asks, his cheek ticking.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” you sniffle and push the paper towel to your nose. You laugh at yourself and clear your throat, “I… haven’t had sprite in a while, guess I forgot how it tastes.”

“Ah, well, did you want water?” He asks.

“No, it’s fine. Not bad,” you turn the glass and look at the soda, “bit of an aftertaste.”

“I don’t really have soda,” he sits back, poking at his plate, “most water. A juice box here and there.”

“Makes sense.”

Your forks clink as you eat in silence. The air is thick as both of you search for something to talk about. Where you’re struggling to find some commonality, there’s a twitchiness to him that suggests he’s trying not to say everything.

“If you’re up for it, maybe we could watch a movie?” He suggests.

“A movie?” You weigh the prospect. You suppose it’s a better idea than staring at the wall. Movies are a great way to fill awkward silences. “Sure, why not. Been a while since I saw anything good. Do you have anything in mind?”

“Nah, not really. I mostly end up watching Pixar so it’s on you. I trust your judgment.”

“You shouldn’t,” you scoff, “I love Pixar.”

He smiles and gives a small chuckle, “well, just don’t be mad when I mouth along with the dialogue.”

“Kidding,” you take another sip of Sprite, trying to wash away the tomatoey tang, “promise, adult movies only.” You cringe as you realise what you said, “I mean, grown-up– er–”

Clark laughs louder, “I got it,” his cheeks bulb as the cleft in his chin deepens, “I know what you’re saying, don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” you shift in your chair, thoroughly embarrassed. You really are so smooth. It’s a good thing it’s just him, you’re sure he’s not very worried about your dumb remarks.

🏡

Despite your efforts to help, Clark insists on cleaning up. You let him as you go upstairs to take a quick shower. Sweating in the sun reading all day has left you feeling a bit musty.

You pull on a pair of striped pajama shorts and a loose tee shirt. You do a face scrub and some moisturising serum before finally emerging, feeling fresh and a bit sleepy. You can hear Clark below scuttling around.

You go downstairs and peer towards the darkened doorway of the kitchen. You pass it and stop just at the threshold of the front room. You find Clark laying out the cushions on the floor along with the throw blankets and pillows. The coffee table is moved aside to allow for some space as the TV glares behind him.

You give him a curious look and he flinches as he notices you. You come forward slowly as the loose hem of your shorts ripples against your thigh. You’re suddenly very aware of how much of your legs are bare. Oh well, it’s only Clark.

“What are you doing?” You ask as you cross the room.

“Oh, me and Jonny do this. I figured you weren’t into making forts but I just thought–” he stops and looks down at his handiwork, “it’s lame, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I’m just trying to make things feel normal… for both of us.”

You give an empathetic smile, “it’s nice. Really,” you look him in the eye, the bold blues gleaming back at you, “it’s sweet. And it looks cozy.”

“Great,” he lightens up as he drops the last pillow, “well,” he turns and grabs the remote, “choose something.”

You nod and take the remote. You sit on a cushion and lean back against the couch. You flick through the new additions on the main screen and choose a movie you’ve heard a lot of buzz about. You blink as the light suddenly goes out and you look over to see Clark’s shadow moving towards you. It gives you an eerie wave of deja vu as you recall the silhouette of the intruder.

You shudder and reach to put the remote up on the couch behind you. You turn back around and a large yawn erupts without warning. You rub your itchy eyes and shake your head, the edges of the television almost blurry as you try to focus on it.

“Tired?” Clark nudges you as he sits beside you.

“Didn’t sleep after… after last night,” you say.

“Ah, of course not. That was a stupid question.”

“It’s f-i-ine,” you yawn again, “really. I’m sure I will tonight. Especially with you here.”

“Really?” He breathes.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to turn the lights off if I was alone,” you lean into the couch as you slouch down, “anyway, I’ll be quiet. Movie’s starting.”

He doesn’t answer as he mirrors you, plumping a pillow behind himself as he wiggles down and gazes up at the screen. Your eyelids feel heavy as you fight to keep them open. The opening scene barely ends as you feel your body slackening with fatigue. You’re barely going to make it through the credits.

You turn onto your side, leaning on your elbow as you hug a pillow under your head. You feel Clark shift too. You blink, a long blink, and when you open your eyes again, you’re lost. You have no idea what the characters are talking about.

You flutter your lashes and try to sit up. You give up as an achy weakness bites at your muscles. Oh well, if you fall asleep, you fall asleep. You can’t fight it anymore.

You close your eyes and wade in the shallow pool of exhaustion. Your head goes wobbly as you’re vaguely aware of the hues flickering and flashing from the television. A sudden warmth rests on your hip, a light sensation you can’t place.

“Are you awake?”

The question blows through you. You don’t have the strength to answer. Your eyes feel strange, dry and almost painful.

You wiggle, shaken by a strength not your own. You slip further from consciousness. You flip onto your back, dragged down until you're entirely flat on the floor. Your eyes are glued shut as you’re trapped in the dregs of sleep. You can’t break through, but you can feel the world around you.

You feel a tickle over your stomach and along your chest. A soft squeeze and a dampness blows over your throat. Heat surrounds you as something prods below your jaw, something soft brushing on your neck. A low drone swirls in your ears.

“Mmm, sweetie, you smell good,” Clark’s voice distorts as you languish in the void, “I bet you feel even better.”

Another tickle. Just along your thighs. A coolness that breezes over you as fabric ripples against you. The loose leg rumples against the crease of your leg as a stroking sensation flicks around your clit.

The electrifying currents radiate from your core. Your chest rises and falls with your rushing breaths. Your heart beats loudly, further deafening the muffled voices coming from the television and the low moan drifting into your ear. Your name plucks at you but cannot rouse you.

Wetness across your cheek then on your lips, delving inside, pressing to your tongue. A sloppy lapping, slickness around your mouth, a new weight over you. Tugging at your shirt and roughness against your tender skin. Squeezing and kneading your chest as a fire razes over your.

Your legs are pushed wide. You feel the world shift and tilt as you come near the surface. Your eyes slit and you can see shadows pulsing all around. A heavy blackness hangs over you as you feel heat against your thighs. Firm muscle holding you open.

You gasp as the wetness along your cunt eases the intrusion. Your eyelids flick up and your eyes roll as your head lolls dizzily. You fight to lift your head but can’t. It’s too much just to look around.

The single digits moves in and out of you, inching deeper each time, the ridge of knuckles grazing your walls. You moan as the hand pulls back and a second finger stretches you. In, out, the wet noise of your tight cunt nips at your shame.

It’s not a dream. It can’t be. It feels too real. Too deep. He’s touching you, he’s inside you. Mr. Kent rocks his hand against your cunt as he hangs his head next to yours and pants, his large body draped across you.

“Baby,” he purrs as your arms remain paralysed at your sides, “shhh, it’s okay. It won’t hurt…” he whispers, “the pills will help.”

You don’t understand what he’s saying or what he’s doing. No, no, you’re wrong. It has to be a dream. He wouldn’t do this. He doesn’t want you. He has a wife. He’s heartbroken over her.

The glare of the TV limns his shoulders, broad and rounded with muscles. He’s naked. The colours skew over his skin as he curls his back, dragging his fingers free of your cunt. He leaves a wet trail down your thigh.

He pushes his knees up, keeping you splayed around him. He feels along your shorts, once more delving past the loose cotton. He prods against your folds. A bulbous, thick shape that has you clenching. He lines his tip up with your entrance and leans in, just enough for you to whimper.

He slides back along your lips, slickening himself with your stolen pleasure. He rubs against you, over and over, stopping again at your entrance. He huffs and jostles you, urging his thick forearm under your neck. Your head hangs back over his arm as you groan and curl your fingers against the blankets.

“Baby, it hurts me too,” he dips his hips, forcing his tip past the tight resistance. Your voice rises, tiny, short squeaks as you feel the daze splitting with your inside. “Just a little…” he rocks back and in again, an inch at first, over and over, shaking each time. “Little more…” he sinks in further and your voice grows more steady.

Your eyes are wide and terrified as the pain assures you of reality. You tense but your body won’t obey. You can’t stop him. You can’t move!

“Little…” he repeats and thrusts deeper again, “...more,” he rolls back and in. His arm bends around your neck as he buries his face in your hair. His other hand braces your thigh, nails digging in as he keeps his motion. With each tilt, he slides in more. More and more until you’re agonizingly full.

You let out a whine, long and desperate as he reaches his limit. He keeps himself there as he whimpers and shakes. He wiggles his hips as he feels you around him.

“Oh god, I… you’re so good. Why are you so good?” He puffs and thrusts, jolting your entire body, “you… you’re so good I had to. I know…” he ruts again, “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t…” he chants as he keeps his motion, easing back slowly only to snap back into you.

Your eyes wet and tears trickle out. It’s more than the pain, it’s the horror swelling in you, boiling but unable to flow over as you remain helpless. You close your eyes and choke on a sob as he rams into you faster, flesh clapping louder each time he dips into you.

You ache as he fucks you. On and on. It feels like forever as you strain against the futility, only able to bend and unbend your fingers. Please stop. Please get off. All you can utter are senseless garbles.

“Baby,” he growls, “I’m gonna– I can’t–” He pushes off of you in a panic, sliding halfway before he spasms and bucks, whimpering as you feel him spill into you, “shit, shit, shit,” he pants as he stills himself, “I didn’t mean to… not inside…”

Your head falls to the side, your eyes rolling back into your skull. You let the darkness win. You’re going to wake up and it’s all going to be a nightmare. Right?

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #dcu #dc #superman #to be alone with you #babysitter au

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gerryrigged · 11 months

Note

not me popping in multiple weeks late to your wip list to inform you that the concept of tim going to jason in a sex pollen situation and dick being Displeased about this flipped a switch in my fucking brain. it just spoke to me okay, i'm obsessed. i understand that there probably isn't a lot to say on the concept beyond the fic itself but i'd be thrilled with anything you'd like to share! i am RAVENOUS

Ohhhhh Anon 🤗 that one ate my brain for a solid few days when it first stole up on me, so I definitely feel you. Jealous and possessive Dick is just too good!!!

Okay so this is post-Red Robin, and Dick and Tim's relationship is still a little strained. Like they’ve reaffirmed their care for and trust in each other, they're making efforts to repair things, but yeah. Still stuff they haven’t addressed, and the comfort level hasn’t been quite rebuilt yet.

Also Bruce fucked off to build Batman Inc. and left Dick to continue as Gotham’s Batman with Damian as his Robin, so there’s still that.

Anyway, Dick is particularly invested in improving his and Tim's relationship, because he's only become more attracted to Tim since he returned from his BruceQuest more centered, more himself - but also sharper and more enchantingly graceful and competent and gorgeous than he’s ever been before. He's also turned 18, and Dick is tentatively hopeful that they can finally address the potential between them that's lurked under the surface for at least a couple of years now.

Because, haha, Dick thinks that they are BOTH aware of the long-simmering feelings between the two of them, and that Tim has just been considerate of Dick’s reluctance to start anything while Tim was still underage. He thinks that they had a kind of mutual, unspoken understanding to wait to explore those feelings until Tim was older, if they were both still unattached, and still interested. And okay, their falling out in Red Robin threw kind of a wrench into things but rebuilding their relationship now is a perfect opportunity to maybe try deepening it further 👀💘🥺💞🙏???

(HA. Tim has no fucking idea that Dick thinks of him as anything but his trusted younger brother figure 🙃)

Anyway. Jason is still around Gotham, occasionally causing trouble, occasionally helping. He mostly stays in his carved out territory, but he’ll like, deign to coordinate with the Bats for pushback against Arkham breakouts, or city-wide gang wars, or like, alien invasions, maybe.

At times, he seems to be circling the Bats. He’s made conversational overtures toward Dick when their vigilante paths cross, which Dick has warily returned. Dick has also spotted Red Hood with Red Robin once or twice; it made him tense and beeline toward them the first few times, but Hood always took off, and Red said it was just work, or Jason fucking around - that he didn't seem to be actively plotting any harm, at least.

Dick isn’t exactly happy about it, but Tim gets huffy about Dick not thinking he can take care of himself (‘what happened to equals, huh?’) so Dick has to back off. He does extract a promise from an eye-rolling Tim that he’ll call Dick for back-up if things get out of hand and Jason seems to be falling back into old, potentially Tim-maiming habits. (‘partners, remember? that rely on each other?’)

Then there's a multi-Rogue Arkham breakout. After splitting and converging in various teams to take out the rest, Batman (Dick), Hood, and Red Robin wrap up with Harley and Poison Ivy at the end.

It seems to go smoothly - for a hot second it looked like Red Robin was tagged by some kind of acid spat by one of Ivy’s flowers, but he must've dodged or was able to just quickly neutralize the substance with seemingly no side effects, because he seems okay.

Dick is anxious to get back home to check on Damian - Robin had apparently been knocked out in his and Batgirl’s fight against Scarecrow across town, and may have inhaled some gas when his mask tore.

But he stops, concerned, when he notices that Red Robin is lingering behind, not following.

He stalls harder, frowning, when Tim snags Jason’s jacket to also keep him from leaving. But Tim just flashes Dick a strained smile.

“Just want to yell at him about something, it’s fine,” Tim reassures him.

“Oh yeah, that makes me want to stick around,” Jason grumbles.

“I think you’ll want to hear me out,” Tim says, low and hoarse, fingers tightening on Jason’s jacket. He clears his throat when both Dick and Jason shoot him odd looks - or, well, an interrogative helmet tilt, in Jason’s case - and waves Dick off again impatiently. “Seriously, go. We’re fine.”

It takes Tim getting pretty insistent to actually shoo Dick away - he’s weirdly reluctant to leave them alone, gaze fixed uneasily on Tim’s hand, still gripping Jason’s jacket, the way Jason is sort of leaning into Tim, something intrigued in his body language (what does he know that Dick doesn’t?) - but Dick does eventually, reluctantly leave. He’s definitely going to interrogate Tim later to figure out what that was all about.

As you can imagine, it’s a real knife to Dick’s gut when he finds out that Tim was sex pollened, aware of it and actively fighting through it, and chose Jason to help him deal with it while Dick was RIGHT THERE. RIGHT FUCKING THERE.

I don’t think he finds out from Tim directly. Maybe from Oracle?? Maybe he’s waiting at the Manor for Tim to come by for a debriefing, and he never shows, and Dick gets increasingly worried until he looks up Red Robin’s location data and he’s. Still with Jason. For some reason. At the Bat safehouse nearest to that last battle. They’re right on top of each other, practically.

Maybe he calls Oracle to fish for info and she (not having any more idea than Tim of the Dick -> Tim feelings) gives him kind of an amused, snarky response about how oh yeah, don't worry, they’re fine 😏; I can’t say more than that, the cameras are blacked out. And Dick’s like, ‘...blacked out?’ and she’s like, ‘protocol, lol, but seriously, they’re fine.’

And Dick is like. Privacy blackout protocol? Tim’s hand on Jason’s jacket? Babs smirking so hard he can hear it through the comm? POISON IVY?

2 + 2 = 4 and Dick is NOT a happy camper. He probably like. Sits there staring at the Red Hood and Red Robin icons layered on top of each other in that apartment ALL FUCKING NIGHT, imagining what’s happening in there, wanting to yell himself hoarse and throw breakable things to shatter against the Cave walls. But he sits motionless in the dark, instead. Aching and second-guessing everything he thought he knew about where he and Tim stood with each other - when he can think through the haze of hurt, jealousy, and anger.

[INSERT A SWITCH TO EITHER JASON OR TIM'S POV FOR THEIR MARATHON SEX POLLEN FUCK SESSION 😂 WOW THEY ARE HAVING A FANTASTIC TIME WHILE DICK IS JUST. SO MISERABLE. TIM IS SO FLEXIBLE. JASON HAS SO MUCH STAMINA. YAAAAAY.]

I’m sort of divided about how Dick’s actual confrontation of Tim would go, because my dark horny Id wants jealous Dick stewing and stewing and eventually just losing it (possibly prompted by getting dosed by another mind-altering, inhibition-loosening drug? because WHY NOT) and like, borderline dub-con ambushing Tim, possibly tying him down and fucking him until he cries and learns who he belongs to

but then my mushy Id is like NO I WANT DICK TO CRY INTO TIM’S CHEST ABOUT HOW HURT HE IS THAT TIM DOESN’T WANT HIM WHEN HE’S LOVED TIM FOR SO LONG NOW, and for Tim to be like wait wait wait WHAT??? but I DO want you, I’ve loved you for so long, that’s why I didn’t want a cheap meaningless sex pollen pity fuck, that would destroy me! and then they cry on each other some more and make sweet sappy reaffirming (but also lbr intensely possessive) love

and then my SUPEREGO is like stfu you know that’s not how it would go, Dick Grayson represses the fuck out of all debilitating hurts and betrayals and upsets, he has to brood and angst like a MOTHERFUCKER first, and then probably snipe at a baffled Tim about unrelated things because he can’t talk about his feelings, and then pick petty fights with a confused, annoyed Jason about things he’d previously been letting go as hostilities had cooled

and then vent to his friends in highly coded/obfuscated language so they have to stab in the dark trying to give him relevant advice, except for Roy who oh shit accidentally figures out EXACTLY what Dick is so bent out of shape about because Jason talked to him about helping Tim out with the sex pollen incident, and what the fuck Dick are you in love with Tim??? and what the fuck Roy, did Jason GOSSIP with you about Tim, did he BRAG ABOUT FUCKING TIM, Dick is gonna fucking PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE, and Roy has to frantically talk him down.

and then Dick would eventually confront Tim slightly-too-aggressively about that one time he fucked Red Hood (if it even was just one time >:|), and was that really the best decision Tim, I’m not saying I’m questioning your judgment but he stabbed you in the chest with a Batarang Tim, I’m not saying another much safer and more appropriate person was right there Tim but I was literally right fucking there Tim, I would have fucked you so good you would never want anyone else Tim, why didn’t you want me Tim, why didn’t you choose me???

….also also, I’m undecided on whether I would want to add JayTim tentatively developing feelings from the pollen incident into the mix to make things even more messy and fucked, but honestly!!! That could be more than I want to try and juggle lol

Thanks for the Ask, I appreciate you!!

#if I could leave the JayTim as one long fun no-strings-attached sex pollen romp that could also be great fun #especially in the context of cutting directly away from (and then maybe right back *into*) a scene of Dick -#- crying and dying inside as he angstily tortures himself imagining exactly what they're doing lol #I want to be so mean to Dick 😊#god this has reminded me of how much fun I was having with this idea #dicktim #jaytim #asks #gerryrigged #gerry words #dc #anonymoose #WIP ask game

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Note

Hii one I loved your recent Minho sickfic, I was wondering if you could write one the other way around but with Felix where he’s sick, (maybe he has a migraine) and the reader takes care of him. 🙁❤️❓

𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!felix. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. a lot of angst. felix is sick (with a migraine). reader is soft and caring for him. felix kinda has low self-esteem/doubts about his worth. slight possessive behavior from y/n (in a soft way!!). pet names (affectionately). reader praises felix a ton. toothe-rotting cuteness.

word count: 3.9k

summary: when your boyfriend felix unexpectedly falls ill with a bad migraine, you automatically throw yourself into the caretaker role. but maybe he needs more than just some pills to relieve the pain... maybe, all the medicine he really needs is you.

a/n: this was a fun request to write because having personally suffered from debilitating migraines since i was a little girl, i enjoyed exploring what this could look like for felix, while also incorporating my own experiences with these kinds of symptoms into the fic. lix is so beautiful and I just want to wrap my arms around him and give him a nice, long hug. 🥹💖 NO ONE touch me rn- i'm in my soft felix hours!!! 😭 hope you like this, anon... thanks for requesting! :))

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You automatically knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into a dark apartment. As the front door slammed behind you, you fumbled to find the nearby light switch before turning it on, throwing the nearby kitchen-dining room into a flood of warm light.

Because although this was the time when you usually arrived home from work to find your boyfriend, Felix, sprawled out across the living room couch relaxing and playing his favourite video games on the large tv, the space was devoid of any life.

Strange.

With a glance at the clock inlaid within the stovetop, it read just a little past ten in the evening. Surely, he must not have been home, otherwise, at least a few lights would be switched on in the apartment. He was probably still at the company, working his ass off in practice or doing vocals lessons. Typical Lee Felix.

A content sigh fled from your lips as you placed your bag down atop the kitchen counter, your shoulder feeling instant relief from the absence. You closed your eyes for a few moments, basking in the utter silence of the apartment before you made your way into the only bedroom just off to the left. Your shared place with your boyfriend wasn’t very spacious, but it was affordable, and it was your own, and that’s all that mattered.

Upon entering the pitch-black bedroom, you let out a low grumble to yourself, “We should just keep on a damn nightlight for when we’re away,” you stumbled about in the darkness before you came in contact with your nightstand and switched on the light.

And as soon as the room erupted in brightness, you noticed the figure curled up on the bed. For a moment, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Stopping there, and slowing for a few seconds. Because… had someone broken into your place? A fan, perhaps? Or… a stalker?

But then, almost immediately after those terrifying thoughts crossed your mind, you recognized the small body.

You recognized it all too well.

Without even thinking about your next actions, you were flying across the small bedroom. Bending down towards the crumpled form, your gaze came in contact with glassy, dark brown eyes.

“Felix- what are you-” You began in disbelief, completely taken aback by his presence.

But then he was wincing in pain, closing his eyes again, plush bottom lip quivering just a little bit. “T-The light… can you please turn it off?” His voice was gravelly and low like it hadn’t been used in a while.

You didn’t even have to ask why, because you already knew the answer to his odd request.

A migraine.

And if he was asking for the lights to be off, it must’ve been pretty bad.

So after you were finished switching off the lamp on your nightstand, you made for the large bay window that was on the other side of the room. You slowly pulled open the curtains until just a sliver of light was filtering through the black-out fabric. After all, you still had to see.

Then you were flitting over to Felix again, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed, tilting into him. You reached up to his head and carded a few fingers through his sandy-blonde hair gently. “How long have you had it?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice quiet. His having a migraine wasn’t a new thing. He was highly susceptibly to head pain, and would regularly get headaches throughout the month. But the migraines were always the worst of it all. And with the light sensitivity? That wasn’t a good sign…

“Woke up with it,” he said in a soft voice. Just then, he cracked his eyes open weakly, his gaze locking with yours. The furrow between his brows and the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks told you all you needed to know about the discomfort he was in.

“Which number is this one?” Your fingers took to massaging his scalp in languid increments, watching the way his face scrunched up in apparent relief.

“Sixth this month.”

“Wow-” You began, your heart throbbing for him. You hated seeing your loving boyfriend in so much pain. And it had already happened six times that month. “What do you think it’s from?”

“Stress, probably… that’s what Chan said, anyway.”

“What are you so stressed about?” You prodded him, pushing a few of his light strands from out of his eyesight.

He groaned and pushed his face into his pillow. “What am I not stressed about?” His voice was muffled against the downy feathers, but you still heard it nonetheless. “It’s… everything, and yet nothing, all at the same time.”

“Lix…” You began, voice hesitant, sending a hush across the bedroom. Your fingers stopped their movement in his hairline, your eyes racking over his form. He was clad in his favourite oversized dark blue graphic t-shirt that had a scene from a cartoon that he had grown up watching in Australia. Loose black sweatpants fit snugly around his waist, and he was halfway wrapped up in your bed’s thick duvet comforter. “I’m worried about you…” You trailed off as he moved his head away from his pillow.

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes took on a certain pleading kind of light. “Please… don’t stop.” He all but whispered, motioning towards your fingers that were resting gently atop his head. And the pitiful look on his face just then, the way his voice cracked just a little bit from his misery, forced your chest to squeeze with hurt.

“This isn’t healthy for you, baby,” you started up again on the massaging, eliciting a low moan of relief to fall from your boyfriend’s lips. “You need to take a break, yeah?”

“How can I possibly do that when everyone is depending on me?” He chuckled in a dry, humorless kind of way. “Besides, this won’t be forever. I’m just getting them a ton because we’re preparing for the new repack and it’s hell at the company right now.”

“Still…” Your voice trailed off, as your fingers fled from his hair and swept over one of his temples. His eyelids fluttered at the delicate press of your digits against his heated skin, and a pleased smile spread across your lips. At least you knew how to help him in moments like these. “I just hate to see you feeling so shitty, you know? Want my baby to be healthy all of the time.”

At your words, Felix turned from his side so that his back was flush against the mattress. His hair was mussed from sleep and your fingers running through it, his freckled cheeks dusted in light pink from your words. “Damn, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

You took a finger and playfully poked at his side, “Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to tell me again…” You wiggled your eyebrows in a taunting kind of way.

And the last thing you saw was his sly grin before he was pulling you towards him. In an instant, he had his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to his warm, comfy body and peppering your face with dozens of light kisses. “Love you… so much, angel.” He mumbled against your skin, pecking each of your cheeks. “Love the way you take care of me, hmm?”

You chuckled at that, pressing your mouth against his in a loving, serene kiss. “And I love you too,” you started, before positioning yourself away from him and his searching mouth. “Which is why I wanna take care of you tonight. Will you let me, baby boy?”

He tilted in just then and pushed a fervent kiss against your lips once more. “Only if you’ll let me do the same next time you’re feeling shitty.” He rose a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. And you knew, at that moment, he wasn’t going to budge. Everything with him was reciprocal. If you helped him in any way, loved him in any form, he felt obligated to return it - usually tenfold.

So you merely nodded your head in agreement, “Fine, I’ll allow you to help me next time I’m down and out.” You blew a few raspberry kisses against his cheeks, making him huff out a deep-throated laugh. Then you were separating yourself from him completely. “Now, onto the real business of things… have you eaten anything all day?”

It was a common occurrence for him to skip all meals entirely when he had a bad migraine, so it was no surprise to you when the look on his face turned slightly meek.“I just had a light breakfast so that I could take my medicine, but it’s definitely worn off by now, so I need to take some more”

Standing up from the bed in one fluid motion, you rested your hands against your hips in determination. “Then it’s set- I’ll make you dinner.”

He peered up at you through his wispy blonde fringe, “B-But you just got home from work and-”

You quickly held a finger up to your lips to silence any of his protests. “Ah- remember what you promised me, baby? That you’d let me take care of you tonight?” You sent him a glare, yet there was not a threat to be had in it.

A tiny smirk cracked across his lips, “Yeah, yeah- I remember…” He rolled his eyes at you, before snuggling further down into the bed. He was a literal blanket burrito- covered in sheets and the thick duvet coverlet.

“Anything you’d like in particular?”

“Nah- I love everything you cook.”

You tossed him a laugh as you headed for the closed bedroom door, “Ha- tell that to Minho… who’s apparently, the local sous chef around these parts.”

As you filtered out of the bedroom, you heard your boyfriend’s laugh follow behind you. At least your presence could take his mind off of the pain. He always said it did. He told you on multiple occasions how having you around him in times like these helped to alleviate some of the discomfort in his head. How, you were like a cooling salve to the throbbing in his temples, always there to support him and give him love when he needed it the most.

That night, you awoke to the feeling of shifting on Felix’s side of the bed. Gradually peeling your eyes open and turning your head on your pillow, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He was sitting up, spine curved, shoulders drawn low, desperately holding his head in his hands.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concern dripping into your tone as sleep immediately left you. The sight of his slouched form made your heart race because you despised seeing him in such a poor state.

“Nauseous.” Is all he could manage to garble out, voice cracking with anguish.

You chewed on your lip anxiously, pushing yourself up from your pillow and nearing him. You grabbed Felix’s hand, languidly threading your fingers together with his and squeezing gently. “What do you need from me, babe?” You whispered, drawing small patterns against his warm palm with one of your thumbs.

A shudder ran through the length of him, as he clutched at his sandy-blonde roots in bated silence, “N-Nothing helps at this point…” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slowly.

“Do you want me to rub your head like earlier?” One of your hands traveled up his spine, stopping just at the nape of his neck. You began to massage circles into his scalp. “Will that help you feel better, Lix?”

Then unexpectedly, he was grabbing ahold of your hand in one swift movement. Your eyes widened in surprise at the frantic look in his eyes just then, as they stared back at you in utter distress. “P-Please, don’t touch my head… just makes me feel worse.”

You pulled him towards you, enveloping him in a loose hug. He practically melted in your embrace, his muscles softening at your touch. His entire body was so warm - it always was, like he was your very own heated teddy bear - and you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, okay?” Your lips found his face in the darkness, and you pressed delicate kisses against his skin. When your mouths collided, you kissed him with all of the gentlenesses in the world, and for a few beats, he returned the kisses.

After heavy silence had washed over the bedroom, casting everything in a delicate, forlorn kind of aura, you pulled away from him to catch your breath. And even in the darkness of the room, you could see the hint of pink dusted across your boyfriend’s cheeks. “L-Love the way you kiss me, angel,” he whispered, leaning into you to press another tentative kiss against your lips.

“I’ve always adored your beautiful mouth,” you replied, a tiny smile cracking across your lips when you pulled apart for air once more. You reached up to him then, tracing a finger around the line of his mouth. “So pretty for only me.” Your hand moved away then, as you cupped one of his warm cheeks with your palm, and he instantly eased into your touch. He had told you in the past how your kisses always made him feel a little better. At the height of his agonizing migraines, he said your lips were like a healing cure for him.

And for a few moments, it felt like the potion had worked. A small, content smile adorned your boyfriend’s face, and the perpetual furrow in his brow loosened. His eyes brightened just a little bit at your compliment - at your praises - because he always loved when you said quiet, loving words to him.

But then, everything fell apart again-

You watched in suddenly tense silence, as his entire body nearly doubled over in pain, spine going completely rigid, ears flushing red, bottom lip trembling.

Then came the glossy eyes. You recognized them instantly, for it was an absolute sign of what was to come.

In a flash of limbs, he was throwing off the duvet coverlet that he had been wrapped up in, racing to the bathroom with you right on his tail.

He threw the toilet seat open just in time as he inclined over the basin, emptying the little contents that were left in his stomach. You hadn’t made him a big dinner - it had only consisted of some scrambled eggs and a small bowl of mixed berries. But even still, it was enough to make him nauseous.

“Let it all out, baby,” you encouraged. You were at his side throughout it all, rubbing his back gently as Felix retched up everything he could muster, his stomach spasming with the effort. “It’s gonna be okay…” It fucking hurt you so much to see him in such a condition. You despised seeing the love of your life - your other half - suffering so much.

It seemed like it lasted forever, but finally- he pushed away from the basin with a deep groan. You quickly leaned over him and ripped up some toilet paper for him to wipe his mouth with.

And when you handed it to him, you quickly realized that his eyes were misty, tears running down either of his cheeks, leaving wet tracks behind on his smoothe skin. The sight of your loving boyfriend breaking down irrevocably caused your heart to crack open into two ugly pieces, and you once again wrung your arms around his hips, bringing him into your chest and giving him a tight hug. You two sunk to the cold tiled bathroom floor, close to the toilet.

“I-I’m sorry, angel,” he hiccuped in between his sobs. He buried his face into the crook of your shoulder like he was ashamed of what had just happened.

“Don’t apologize, Felix.” You said, trying to put some sternness in your voice. Because why in the world did he have to apologize to you? You were his girlfriend, for fucks sake- taking care of him when he felt shitty was the most basic of things for you to do. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Y-Yeah, but you’re always taking care of me… it’s a burden on your shoulders that you didn’t sign up for.” He practically wailed, his tears leaving wet stains against your pajama shirt.

“I want to take care of you, baby. I fucking love you, and I care about you. And don’t ever say that you’re a burden to me because you’re not.” You tried not to raise your voice in that tender moment, but his words just fueled the deep fire that was always simultaneously burning inside of you.

Because he had said such things before, in the past, when the mean and abusive comments online had gotten to him. When it seemed like everyone thought he was a burden, so he had just assumed that he was one to you as well. But in reality, that was the farthest thing from the truth. He wasn’t a burden to anyone; he was the light to so many people’s lives, but especially to yours. He brightened up your day with just his smile alone, and the way that he loved you - wholly and irrevocably - was such an exquisite thing.

“You really m-mean that?” His voice splintered at the end of his words, as he hugged you a little tighter, nestling his head into your warmth.

“Of course I fucking mean it, Lix,” you began, smoothing down his hair with a palm. “You’re the light of my world- the reason my life is so complete. And I’ll do anything for you.” At that, you were pulling him away from your chest.

The tip of his nose was pink and his eyes were bloodshot from the tears. And with one look into his shiny, deep brown eyes, which were dancing with so many different emotions, your heart broke just a little bit more in the pit of your chest. With gentle fingers, your thumbs wiped away his excess tears. At least the crying had stopped.

“Please don’t cry, baby,” you whispered to him, desperation dripping into your tone. “I hate to see you cry, Lixie.” You used the nickname that he always liked coming from you, and watched in silence, as it brightened his face just a little bit.

“O-Okay,” he nodded his head slowly, hand finding yours and squeezing your fingers there. “I’ll try… and, I don’t want to feel this way anymore, so I’m going to do everything in my power to not get so stressed out.”

“That’s my good boy,” you laughed softly, reaching up to his head and gently ruffling his hair playfully. Your eyes flitted down to his face, which was shaded a crimson red from your words. You always loved to rile him up, even in the direst of moments. Seeing him blush so furiously did something wonderful to your ego. His blushes were always so... adorable. “How do you feel now?”

“A little better… I think that helped,” he canted his head to the porcelain toilet that was just beside the two of you, not wanting to even spell out the words to what had just happened.

“See, baby? I told you that you’d feel better,” you gave his shoulder a nudge, offering him a tiny smile. “Now, do you wanna brush your teeth, and then we can get back into bed?”

His eyes pulled away from the toilet and locked with yours, and thankfully- a little bit of that Lee Felix sparkle was back in them. Shining in his eyes, although dully. But at least it was there, even if it was a small amount. “Yeah… I’d like that very much.”

And with that, you took both of his hands and helped to hoist him up from the hard-tiled floor that the two of you had been sitting on for the last few minutes. You gently brushed his sandy-blonde hair out of his face as he worked at the sink, and when he was done, led him out of the bathroom and back to bed.

Leaning down into him, you tucked your boyfriend into bed, fitting the thick white duvet around his small frame. “Are you comfy?” You asked, as you bent forwards and pressed a kiss against his exposed forehead.

“No, not until I’m holding onto you,” he said in that deep voice of his, a sardonic smirk widening across his lips. Then, his hands were winding around your forearms, and you were yanked towards him.

You landed on top of his chest with a huff, sending a mirthful glare up his way. “I can hardly imagine that this is going to relieve your migraine.” Nevertheless, his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your bodies close together.

“You must highly doubt the power that your cuddling abilities have over me,” he laughed, and at that moment, it felt like it was the first time that he had done so in ages. Gone was the bleary-eyed shaking Felix from before, in the bathroom. That man had been replaced with your Lix… all bright smiles and tinkling laughter making your chest pound with love.

“So I guess we’re just gonna fall asleep this way, then?” You rose an eyebrow his way, earning a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Only if you want to.”

“Oh, I fully intend to lay here until I am physically forced to move. However, I’m just wondering if you’re up for that challenge.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, angel?” He tilted up to you then, pressing a fervent kiss against your lips. “If I could be joined to your hip for the rest of my life, I think I’d take up the offer.”

A wide smile broke across your face. “It’s settled then, I’ll be staying right here for the foreseeable future.” You said, pressing a light peck against the warm skin of one of his cheeks.

Just then, the both of you erupted into a fit of giggles, as Felix squeezed his arms around you tight, and you gave him slobbery kisses on his nose and forehead.

And all at once, the pain and heartache and suffering were forgotten, as the air around the two of you danced with love and happiness. Pure adoration glittered in Felix’s eyes, shining across his face in a wide grin. And you were almost positive that your face was mimicking his expression- which was made clear by the warmth that bloomed across your cheeks at his arms squeezing your waist tightly, and how your soul fluttered just a little bit at the way his perfect mouth kissed you again and again.

Because he wasn’t a burden.

He never had been one, and he never was going to be one.

Lee Felix was perfect just the way he was; small frame, fragile spirit, migraines and all.

All of it was utterly perfect.

He was like an ethereal little pixie, all rainbows and sparkles and butterflies, and everything pretty and warm and bright in the world.

And the best part of it all?

Was that he was all yours.

And you weren’t planning on sharing all of him with the rest of the world - you were only going to allow the outer-most parts of him for everyone else to see and cherish.

But the most-beautiful bits of his spirit?

Of his soul?

The tender moments, the sweet kisses, the serene smiles, the silky words?

Yeah, you were going to keep those locked away nice and tight inside your heart, so that only you had access to the innermost parts of Lee Felix.

Fin.

527 notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Text

waiting

pairing: dark!andy barber x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. angst angst angst. mommy issues. mentions of pregnancy. allusion to thoughts of abortion (this blog is firmly pro choice btw). self loathing. everyone is just really mean to poor reader. ☹️. oh and a mention or two of mr. ransom drysale 😶 if i’m missing something important pls feel free to let me know.

words: 5.3k

notes: i’ve had this fic in my wips since july and finished since the beginning of this month, i just never posted it lol but i’m so excited to share it finally. this definitely isn’t for everyone and really was just an indulgent write but if you do read this, i hope you enjoy the angst. comments and reblogs are more than welcome and appreciated. i’d love to hear what you think. thank you for reading 🖤

The flickering light in the nearly empty emergency room was unsettling. Your mind was taunting you as you sat in the waiting area, the chair beneath you growing harder and more uncomfortable with each passing minute.

You had jinxed yourself.

Cursing your fate mere hours ago and dwelling on how horribly things were going lately, thinking it couldn’t possibly get any worse.. Of course, it could.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know why you were here. Maybe just as an excuse to try and avoid the inevitable.

Maybe it was some sick sense of guilt hanging over you..

A part of you now desperate to remember the sense of comfort you could find in her - even if only for a few moments. As hard as you’ve tried these last 24 hours, you just couldn’t seem to remember what it felt like. You started to wonder if there was really anything to remember at all. But there had to be, right? She was your mother. There had to be. And then your phone rang. You didn’t let yourself think before you told whoever was on the other end that you would be there soon. You just called an Uber and went right down. Now here you were.

Whatever it was that drove you here - fear, guilt, obligation, a need for reassurance - that maybe this all wouldn’t be so bad, it brought you to this moment. Waiting with baited breath for your name to be called, for someone to escort you to her room, to finally see the damage she had done with her refusal to help herself. You felt bad, though you knew you shouldn’t. The damage she had done to you could be seen every time you looked in the mirror.

Stare too long at your reflection and you're lost again to the darkness that has managed to follow you all your life. You felt hollow a lot of the time, but the more apt word would be numb. Because you weren’t hollow by any means. No, you were full to the brim with hurt and anger and despair. You didn’t like feeling that. So numbness was better.

Just try to forget. Don’t let your mind sit in silence for too long. It was prone to wandering. And so were you. Maybe that’s why you were in the position you were now. You could never let yourself be content. Always searching, always reaching for something more. Something that could finally make you feel. Force you to feel. You just didn’t realize that it would lead you to him. That anyone could ever make you feel as much as he did. That you could ever feel like this.

The flickering of the light was bad, but the seemingly deafening silence was worse.

Until it wasn’t.

The entrance door slid open and you vaguely heard the footfall of whoever had just entered approaching behind you while the chilling breeze from outside came rushing in with them.

The shadow loomed over you and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The creaking of the old chair as he sat directly behind you was irksome, as was his unwanted presence. Maybe if you just pretended he wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have to deal with him right now. Maybe he’d just go away for tonight. Maybe he’d be kind enough to leave you alone.

You could have scoffed out loud at yourself.

Kindness wasn’t really his thing. Not lately. And if you’d learned anything these past six months it was that the times you most wished he’d leave you be, were the times he was sure not to.

Waiting for him to move or speak or to do something, anything at all, was even more frustrating and did nothing to help settle the anxiety that was already turning your stomach. You couldn’t take the silence a moment longer. You spoke with your back to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been calling you all night,” he responded without answering your question. You could hear the edge in his tone and it only served to piss you off. He had the audacity to be upset when he knew what was going on. You weren’t stupid enough to just not show up when he expected you at his place, you texted him and told him where you’d be and why. It wasn’t like you were hiding from him. At least not in a way he could prove.

“Yeah, well, I've been a little preoccupied.” you said harshly. Biting your lip as you instantly regretted your tone. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but you couldn’t deal with the repercussions you’d get for it from him right now. You were already on the verge of breaking completely.

“Sweetheart,” he leaned forward in his chair as he spoke, voice hard, getting even closer to you as if his presence wasn’t already all together suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I’ve been waiting since I texted you. They won’t let me back there.”

Truthfully, you were more upset about the news you’d gotten yesterday than you were about the wait - you weren’t even really sure you wanted to go back there. Their ignorance of you was more helpful than you were sure they realized. You couldn't be accused of not showing up, it’s not like it was your fault they never got to you. You were still there.

You didn’t speak that aloud though, and he wouldn’t have given you any time to if you’d wanted.

He clicked his tongue and got up without saying a word and walked to the receptionist. You watched as they spoke, his charm shining through as the young woman was in complete admiration at the man before her. If only she knew the real him. If only anyone knew what he was really like. But no. He saved his true self for you and you alone.

The shrill laughter of the woman pierced your ears as Andy smiled, charming oozing off of him. You were reminded of the first time you met him. How easily you had fallen for his act, much the same way. Laughing shyly at his compliments and smiling softly at that same smirk you now dread. The one that haunts your dreams at night after he finally grants you some peace. He’d taken over everything. Every aspect of your life. All of you.

He didn’t care. Not really. Not about the situation. Not even truly about you. He could pretend all he liked, but you knew the truth, whether he accepted it or not.

He didn’t care, he just wanted people to believe he did. That’s what it felt like. And damn did they believe. You had, too. Until you got too close. Finally saw him drop the facade.

Sometimes you could convince yourself it was better this way. To really know him, to know the truth. It helped you not feel so much like a fool anymore. And the way you saw people react to him, falling for every kind smile and caring word, that helped too. You couldn’t blame yourself, he was just so damn good at hiding it.

The woman behind the desk pressed a button and the door leading further into the hospital buzzed open. Andy smiled at her again, giving her a soft ‘thank you’.

He stood at the door, looking at you while holding it open, waiting for you to get up. You stared blankly a moment, your body not wanting to move. This was stupid. Seeing her wouldn’t change anything. It’d do no good for either of you. In fact, it’d probably just send you spiraling even further. You never should have come here in the first place. Never should have answered the phone to begin with. You had bigger problems to worry about. This was too much. It was all too much. Maybe you could visit her after she got home, but you couldn’t do this, especially not right now. Your heart was starting to race and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You opened your mouth slightly, wanting to speak but no words would come out. You vaguely heard Andy call your name, but didn’t respond to it, not until he loudly cleared his throat and broke through your trance. You looked at him immediately, his annoyance clear in what used to be such kind eyes. You couldn’t find the softness or warmth you did before. Only harsh blue staring a hole through you. You forced your body to move, albeit slowly, standing up and walking toward him. When you were close enough and he was sure no one was watching, he gripped your arm tight and pulled you through the threshold of the door. You stumbled forward, gasping slightly, and tried to pull your arm away, grimacing as his grip was too tight. You looked up at him, pleading without words, eyes begging him to relent. Instead of just letting go of you, he threw your arm away from him and out of his hold. Another needless aggression.

“Stop acting so goddamn catatonic,” he snarled.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” you murmured. “I can’t do this,” you breathed as you tried to move past him, back through the door you’d just entered through.

“Now you want to leave? The second I get you back here? You’re that fucking stubborn. You won’t let me do any nice thing for you, you just like when I’m mean to you, is that it?”

“Andy, please,” you tried to calm him. “It’s not you, I just, I can’t do this, okay. I can’t see her. Please. Let’s just go, I’ll go with you, alright? Wherever you wanted to go tonight, let’s go,” you pleaded. You really couldn’t fathom having to face her. Now that you were so close, you just couldn’t do it. Hell, you were begging the man you’d been trying to keep away from to take you anywhere else, you were that desperate to avoid this reunion.

Your head was down now, staring at his solid chest as he continued to keep you blocked from the door. You felt his hand come up, moving some of your hair out of your face. His touch, deceptively gentle. He moved to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You are leaving with me, you already know that. But we’re not going anywhere until I say we are. You’re gonna be a big girl,” he said, voice dripping with condescension as he gripped your chin painfully, “and do what you came here to do. You can’t run from your fears forever.”

You felt tears welling in your eyes but you fought them back with everything you had.

I hate you I hate you I hate you.

That was all that was running through your head as you blinked away the tears threatening to spill. He didn’t deserve your tears. Neither of them did.

You backed away, lips in a tight line and eyes hard.

A nurse was passing by as you did and Andy was quick to put on a show.

He grabbed your hand gently and it took everything in you not to rip it away. He pulled you back closer and wrapped his arms around you, burying your face in his chest. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he spoke softly. You couldn’t see his face, so you didn’t know for sure, but you would have bet money he smiled at the nurse as they passed by. Another phony display of comfort.

You weren’t even sure he realized why he was doing it, or how hollow of a gesture it was. You wondered if he really was that deluded that he could think this was a sincere intimate moment between the two of you. His heavy hand was rubbing your back in an attempt to be soothing, and seemed to confirm your thoughts. He turned you in his hold, your back to his chest as he ushered you in the direction of the room number he had been given.

Your feet were only moving because he was pushing you forward. You didn’t know what room you were going to, but when Andy stopped in front of a cracked door, you figured that must be it. You swallowed hard, turning to face him again. Having to see her on your own was enough to leave you feeling sick, but with the news you got yesterday still weighing on you and Andy hovering so close, you felt nearly immobile. The more you thought about what was about to happen, the more anxious you got. You started to think about the last time you’d had to introduce your mother to the person you were seeing. It went horribly, even he agreed. And Ransom had a pretty low bar set for family as it was. Not that he had any room to judge.. Thinking about him and everything that had gone down those few years ago gave you chills even now. How the hell did you constantly end up in these convoluted, fucked up relationships. You worried it said more about you than it did any of them.

“You, you can’t go in,” you said, shaking your head as you avoided eye contact. “She’ll…it’ll be a whole thing,” you tried to explain.

“She doesn’t know about me?” he sniffed.

“I haven’t seen her in over a year,”

“You don’t call?” You cringed at his tone. Accusatory, like he always was, already putting the blame for the rift you had with your mother on you without knowing any of the details. You swallowed the renewed lump forming in your throat and took a stabilizing breath before you responded.

“It’s been a while,” you choked, your voice thick and throat tight.

“Well I can introduce myself just fine,”

You moved to block him from entering the door, earning a stern glare in response.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he seethed. “Move.”

“Let me just talk to her first,” you refused.

His jaw ticked as he stared down at you, eyes narrowed. He huffed, agitated. You thought for a second he was going to listen, but you should have known better. He took a step closer, bending down and grabbing your face in his large hands.

“You’re gonna remember this exact moment later tonight. And you’re gonna regret it.”

His voice was calm, his eyes sure - and you believed him. Your shoulders sagged as you deflated. You weren’t gonna win this one. He brushed past you and entered the room with a knock on the door as he pushed it open. His previous irritation was quickly replaced by his mask of goodheartedness.

You heard her before you saw her, the lilt of her voice paralyzing you.

Suddenly you were a kid all over again, teary eyed and broken hearted at the words that spilled from her lips as she held up clothes to you in the department store, vicious in meaning but so gentle in her delivery. If you didn’t pay attention to the words, you could convince yourself she was reassuring you instead of tearing you apart. That’s what it looked like to passersby, you were sure. The unadulterated spite and barely concealed hatred was saved for you behind closed doors. Living under her roof was your own personal hell and once you got out from under her thumb, you refused to settle back down anywhere. Never believing you were secure, wanted. You just kept searching for what you were longing for, never accepting when you’d found it, or just too scared to stay. Always wandering to the next. You couldn't stay too long or they'd grow to despise you, too.

Who would have thought you'd find yourself trapped again after all these years, all the time you spent desperate to avoid it. It was almost comical. It had to be cosmic. It was like you ran right into him. You wanted to know what you had done in your past life to have cursed yourself to such a fate in this one. How did they keep finding you and what had you done to deserve it? Another devil holding you down. You should have seen it coming. Maybe you did. Maybe it just felt so familiar, the only love you knew as a kid. Anything else you'd received felt like a joke, like you didn't deserve it. Or maybe it was even simpler than that. Maybe you were just tired of trying to outrun fate.

The people you found yourself closest to were always the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Seeming so gentle and loving from the outside, but ready to tear you apart the second they get you alone. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Maybe you did deserve this. The second you started to believe things were finally going right for you, that maybe you could finally be happy, that seeming reality was shattered for you by the very hands you thought were helping put you back together after spending so much of your life feeling absolutely broken.

You didn’t really hear the words they were exchanging as you walked into the room after a moment, taking a heavy breath. When you finally focused in, you heard the end of their brief introductions.

“There’s my daughter,” she announced as you approached. “Look at you,” she intoned, looking you up and down before landing on your face. “You’re all done up. Got all your makeup on.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest uncomfortably as you took a breath, looking away from her. You could hear the judgment clear as day laced in her words.

“It looks pretty,” she tried to compliment when you looked to her, face solemn. “I wish I could do my makeup like that,” she said smiling.

“Thanks, mom,” you replied, taking a step further into the room. You could feel Andy’s gaze on you, watching you intently, waiting for you to make your way to him, you were sure. “...How are you?”

You felt stupid for even asking, but you didn’t really know what else to say.

“Oh, ya know,” she tried to play off. “I’m fine, honey, I’m fine,” she assured you when you looked at her with a slightly raised brow. She took a breath. “I haven’t seen you in over a year. Haven’t heard from you nearly at all, either, I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” you said, feeling guilty.

“Hey, that’s life, though. Gets hard. Trust me, I know,” she said before she considered you a moment. With just the tilt of her head you knew she was about to say something provocative. “You look so different…. A lot can change in over a year, though, right?” she continued, looking over to Andy deliberately.

“Uhm. Mom, this is Andy Barber. Andy, my mother,” you introduced them only out of obligation. Manners were important to both of them. Something else they had in common.

“So he told me,” she smiled. “I’m assuming you’re… dating?” You swallowed hard as you looked at her before looking to Andy.

“Six months now,” he responded for you, walking to where you were still standing, smiling softly as he put his arm around you. It was deceptively sweet, comforting. You almost wanted to let yourself relax into him, use him as a shield against the vitrole you knew would be coming eventually.

“Six months? Wow. That must be a record for you, right?” she baited you with a laugh. You didn’t respond, just looked down to the one teal tile on the floor amongst the sea of white. You could feel her eyes on you before she realized she wouldn’t be getting a response, turning her attention to Andy instead.

“So, what do you do for work?” she prodded.

“I’m an assistant DA,” he answered her.

“A lawyer?” your mother said, shocked evident in her voice as she looked at you. “Well, better make sure this one lasts,'' she told you. “And if it does last, you’d better get a prenup,” she laughed again as she nodded to Andy.

You stiffened as Andy did beside you and bit your cheek, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. She noticed your face and her scoff made your stomach turn. You looked up to see her rolling her eyes as she looked away like she was exhausted by you already. “You just always have to have an attitude don’t you?” she said almost under her breath, frustrated. “Why are you so sensitive? You’re an adult. Stop taking things so personally. Lighten up, grow some skin. I’m trying to have a conversation and it's like everything I say you have an issue with.

God, y/n, ya know, why are you even here? To make me feel worse? Remind me how much of a fuck up mother I am?” You knew it was coming. It always did. And yet you were still jostled by her flip. You felt Andy’s hand squeeze your waist as you unconsciously backed further into him, pressing closer to his side like a frightened puppy trying to hide yourself.

“Mom, I didn’t say anyt-”

“Why are you here?” she enunciated each word loudly, interrupting and talking over you.

“They called when they brought you in. I’m your emergency contact, remember?”

“Remember? Don’t talk to me like I’m senile.” she nearly sneered.

You bite your tongue and cursed yourself for feeling tears well up already.

“Yeah, that’s great. Bring out the waterworks. Put on a show, make me the bad guy. It’s always me, right? It’s always my fault,” she continued. “What do you have to cry for? I’m the one who was abandoned by you. You show up after over a year of rejecting my calls and one word text responses, what to make yourself feel better? Where were you when I needed you, huh?” she questioned, words like knives in your heart. You felt so small under her angry gaze. You felt like the worst person in the world. You felt like a child. A weak, scared, sorry child.

“Andy was it?” she asked, pulling her eyes from you as she turned them to Andy.

“Mr. Barber is fine,” he corrected, voice hard and defensive.

“Well, Mr. Barber,” she mimicked, “I’m sorry you have to see this, but let me just warn you. If I know my daughter, I know she's not much for sticking around. She’ll run as soon as she gets the chance. She’s like her father that way. The second she gets tired of you. The second you can’t offer her anything anymore,” the bitterness was dripping from her every word, “she’ll be gone.”

You gulped down the lump in your throat and squeezed your own hand to try and keep yourself calm.

“If you don’t believe me, just ask her ex. He’ll tell you the same thing,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” you said dumbfounded and exasperated.

“What do you think I’m talking about? Ransom,” she said as if it was obvious. The mention of his name had you frozen. “The second you found out he was written out of that will, you left him like it was nothing.”

“Are you serious? You’re gonna bring that up right now? He went to prison for murder, mom!” you raged. “And you know what, my relationships are none of your business,” you seethed.

“You slept with him for his money, you and I both know it. Just because it turned into something more after doesn’t change the way it started.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered angrily.

“I don’t believe you,” she told you, voice eerily level as tears renewed in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you asked, voice breaking as Andy pulled you behind him.

“That’s enough. It’s clear this was a bad idea,” he stated, making you want to scream. As if you hadn’t told him as much before he forced you in here. You turned to the side as you held your head in your hands, trying to regain your composure.

“Oh my god,” your mother breathed as she took in your side profile for the first time. Her voice was full of worry and your head shot over to her immediately in response to your name being spoken in near reprimand. “Are...are you pregnant?” she asked out of nowhere.

“What?” you breathed.

“Your stomach looks bigger. Like there’s a bump there. It’s been a year but I know what you look like when you put on weight,” she started, eyes locked on your tummy. “And I know what baby weight looks like.. Yo-you’re pregnant aren’t you?” she asked again. She sounded..scared.

You were looking at her, confounded as Andy turned to you, looking much the same. He eyed you up and down before you felt his gaze settle on your stomach. Your hands came up to your lower belly self consciously.. Or maybe it was protectively.

You didn’t know how she knew. You’d only just found out yourself. You didn’t think you were showing noticeably in the slightest. Your periods were always irregular. Skipping cycles wasn’t anything you would think twice about. You were on the pill. You thought maybe you were just more bloated lately. Gaining weight wasn’t anything new for you, either. You didn’t piece any of it together right away. You had no reason to. You were protected. Or so you thought. And you had zero plans of informing Andy of the news. Not yet. You were still trying to process it. You couldn’t be a mother. You couldn’t become your mother. But what were you supposed to do? You could deny it easily enough, put the conversation off, but you knew Andy wouldn’t let it go. He’d want a test to know for sure either way. He’d find out the truth. You were planning to make your appointment next week to find out how far along you were. See if you had any options left.

“Are you pregnant?” Andy asked softly, walking closer to you.

Your mouth was dry. You didn’t want to answer him, but you knew you’d have to. You licked your lips before you spoke.

“I don’t- I- I think.. maybe,” you breathed, words fumbling while you were avoiding eye contact with both of them.

Your attention was caught by your mother lamenting your nickname, pained and sorrowful. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she pleaded. “You’re so young, you’re not ready to be a mother. You-”

“All due respect,” Andy snapped, “- which is near none,” he added, sneering as he turned on your mother while you watched in sudden shock, mouth slightly agape while your mind spun, “you have absolutely no say here. In fact, it’s none of your business. This is a private matter between your daughter and I - no one else. But if you really want to worry about anyone’s ability to mother, I’d focus on yourself first. You’ve done a real bang up job so far,” he said sarcastically.

“Andy,” you reproached, walking quietly to him, wanting to calm things before they got worse.

“We’re leaving,” he said to you while sending daggers to your mother who looked at you with tears in her eyes, “You never should have come here.”

You looked at your mom, discontent clear on your face.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said, voice cracking. You had to look away before your own tears started to fall, lip wobbling. You weren’t sure what she was apologizing for, but it was the first time you ever heard her say those words sincerely. And it broke your heart. Andy grabbed your hand in his as he pulled you to the door and out of the room. The second you were past the door, you immediately broke down in tears. Everything hitting you all at once. Suddenly you were gasping for air as you felt like your legs were about to give out beneath you. Andy’s arms wrapped around you, turning you to pull you into his chest, his strength keeping you up as you leaned fully into him. One hand was holding your head while the other was wrapped around you, rubbing your back as you cried. He placed a kiss atop your head while he hushed you quietly, both of you standing in the empty hospital hallway.

You caught your breath after a minute and let yourself believe he was holding you so gently because he really cared. Because he was sorry for not listening to you. Because he wanted you to feel better, to comfort you. Whether it was true or not, it helped. Slowly you pulled away from him, and his hand came up to brush the tears off your puffy cheeks.

“How far along are you?”

“I really don’t know,” you said honestly. “If I had to guess, at least ten weeks,”

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly, thumb still stroking your cheek.

You looked at him doe eyed, lips set in a small pout. You opened your mouth to speak before he cut you off,

“I’m gonna tell you right now, don’t lie to me,” he warned, an ocean storm brewing in his normally brilliant blue eyes as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Since yesterday,” you murmured. “I swear.”

He nodded slightly then took you by surprise, pulling you closer for a slow and deep kiss. Your brows were furrowed as he pulled away to allow you both a breath.

“You should have told me right when you found out,” he reproached.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I was still trying to wrap my head around it. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I don’t know how this even happened,” you confessed. But Andy knew.

He’d been switching out your birth control for nearly four months now and had long since stopped wearing condoms with you, though that you were aware of. He didn’t think it was important to tell you about the swap he’d made with your pills, so he decided to keep that to himself. No need to get you worked up again. Especially now that he knew you finally were pregnant. He’d have to figure out a way to keep you as stress free as possible. Keeping you home would be easy enough, he basically had you living with him already, but he’d have to make that change slowly, you would surely resist his attempts to keep you at home if he made it too obvious.

He found your mother’s warning funny, though. As if you’d ever be able to run from him. You’d tried, but he was always two steps ahead. You didn’t go anywhere without him knowing, whether you knew that or not. You were his now. You had been since the day he first laid eyes on you. You weren’t going anywhere. As he thought about the changes he’d have to make now that you were pregnant, he remembered the punishment he’d given you a few nights ago. It reminded him you had another one coming tonight, too. He’d have to go about them differently now, though. As much as he loved discipling you, his tactics would have to change, he’d need to be even more careful with you. And more lenient, he realized. He loved your responses to spankings, but he was looking forward to changing your punishments up with edging or overstimulation now instead. Either way, he was sure to make you cry. Make sure you’d learn your lessons. And he’d get started tonight. You brought out the darkness in him, but you brought the softness out, too. He wanted to remind you how good things could be. There was just one more thing bugging him at the moment that he’d have to let out.

“Come on,” he instructed. “I parked in the garage.”

You walked with him to the entrance before he led the way to his car.

He opened the door for you and helped you in before he went around and got in himself. He sighed heavily as you sat in silence for a moment before he turned to you.

“Who the fuck is Ransom?”

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