#oneshots

deep thrusts which have you clawing the sheets, lewd sounds of his cock pistoning out of your clutching heat, dragging against your most sensitive places, the practiced rolls of his hips. everything.

he doesn’t like hearing you whine and beg him to slow down, or stop. he knows you don’t actually mean that so he clamps a tight palm over your mouth and continues shifting your organs around so good.

he pulls your hair, chokes you, grips your hips so tight they might bruise. he cums inside of you not once, not twice but as many times as he’d like because he just has so much.

he’s sweet when he’s caring for you.

he kisses your wet, messy face and soothes you. apologizing for how hard he went on you. he rubs the places where he marked you lovingly, giving you a warm bath and apologizing all the way for the number he had done to you.

a/n - a little short but it was on my mind <3

update!! pt. 2 out now!

E | cw - slight manipulation, jacks got a thing for pregnancy but like nothing nsfw, eluded intimidation/threats

2:06 AM

I’m thinking of Jack Abbot who loves his new pregnant neighbor.

He doesn't think he’s seen a more beautiful pregnant woman than you, even with swollen feet that were always in slippers or sandals, or how your face was fuller than the older pictures he’d seen of you. He’d thought you looked amazing as you were, an amazing creator of life, who just shone with natural and effortless beauty, as life itself.

He easily found himself helping you with everything and anything before going to work every day. Moving your new furniture around, putting together the nursery, and helping you paint- basically any manual labor your deadbeat boyfriend was supposed to be doing.

That was a sore subject to him; he would get irrationally angry and possessive when he did come around, asking for handouts and overall douchebaggery he did not appreciate or warrant for this new age of boys. You seemed to never notice Jack's sudden abrasiveness towards your boyfriend, but then again, everyone was so it wasn’t much of a difference as with everyone else.

You were struggling with the decision of keeping your baby daddy in your life and soon to be born childs life. Embarrassed to be walking around with no father, but not ready to let him be in your child’s life if he kept up the way he was. Jack was adamant about not giving you his opinion, kept saying ‘it’s obvious, sweetheart, but I can’t be the one to tell you.’ Or ‘you wouldn’t care for what I think, it’s a little outdated’

The whole time, he just wants to put on a shotgun wedding and make you his before that baby comes so his last name is on both of you— but that’s not exactly feasible with that lowlife hanging around, so it’s about time he’d stop.

notes. i def don’t think you wanted a fanfic that was this long, but i saw so much potential in this idea i just couldn’t help myself to write this for you. this took me days to do, so enjoy! this is for all of my lovers who love backstory & character development. i tried my best! this is so long but so cute and worth it (in my opinion)

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, arranged marriage, fluff, arguing, tad angst, cussing, so much backstory, no proof read, cuddling, slow burn, make up sex, tender mornings, rough sex, hair pulling, love making, rafe spitting in reader’s mouth, degrading, praising, showering together, wife!reader, husband!rafe, ass slapping/spanking, backshots, choking, slight wording of cnc(?), some intimate scenes, brat taming, edging

ward wants his son to have a good girl. he’s told rafe the standards he should look for, not a drug addict, someone sweet, someone good to him. simple enough, but rafe never followed through. he went for party girls who had no direction in life, fucked girls for drugs, and messed around with ones who’d been passed around so much they’d probably had every std in the book.

then you came along.

ward was immediately interested. he’d spoken to you before, when you were planting flowers in homemade vases along your front yard fence. you had this soft, sweet charm he’d never seen in any of the girls rafe usually brought around.

you didn’t expose yourself in everyday clothes, you spoke like you didn’t even know curse words existed, and you carried yourself with a modesty that felt rare. you were perfect for the cameron image. the kind of girl who could clean up rafe’s mess of addictions and reckless behavior.

when the wedding came, rafe had no real say. you were beautiful, sure, but he wasn’t ready to let go of his old life. so on your wedding night, after you were officially married, he didn’t say much. he was still adjusting.

you found him in the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist while he brushed his teeth. you poked gently at his side. “hi,” you said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

he glanced down at the spot you’d poked, then looked at you. toothbrush still in his mouth. “…hello.” you smiled, a playful little pout forming on your lips. “that’s all i get?”

he stayed quiet for a second, eyes now fully on you. “what am i supposed to say?” he asked and you shrugged. “i don’t know… we just got married!” excitement colored your voice. “yeah,” he replied dryly, spitting into the sink. “trust me, i’m aware.” he adds.

your smile faltered, and you swallowed. rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “look, i’m not trying to be a dick. this whole thing is just… a lot.” he explained. you nodded, looking up at him. “is there anything i can do to help you relieve some stress?” your brows furrowed in genuine concern. “anything you need?” you ask.

he stared at you for a long moment. “a drink,” he said flatly. you frowned. “i don’t think that’s what you need,” you replied softly. his eyebrow lifted. “you’ve been my wife for three hours and you’re already arguing with me?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his tone.

you didn’t answer. instead, you gave a small, quiet nod and walked out of the bathroom.

the whole adjustment process to rafe was strange. one day, you were receiving nothing but attitude and toxicity, and the next, little moments of kindness that caught you off guard.

coming from a family who handled their feelings by sitting down and talking things out didn’t exactly prepare you for someone like rafe. he thought he knew everything, and even when he knew he was wrong, getting an apology out of him was like pulling teeth.

he wasn’t even close to what you imagined in a husband before his father came talking to you. you wanted someone sweet, mature, someone who didn’t treat every disagreement like a battle. someone who could tell you what was wrong instead of making you figure it out yourself.

just like the first night of your honeymoon, he was still angry. still angry at his father for putting him in this situation, for making choices for him like he was a kid. it was around two in the morning, and he was sitting out in the living room of the hotel ward had paid for in another country.

every now and then his voice would rise, frustration bleeding into every word as he talked on the phone about how he was sick of everyone deciding his life for him. his voice carried all the way down the hall to the bedroom, and you sat there on the bed with your hair in a messy bun, listening to every word.

when he kept going, something in you finally gave out. quietly, you got up and headed to the closet, pulling your suitcase onto the floor and beginning to pack the clothes you’d brought with you.

when rafe heard the movement, he ended the call and walked into the room, stopping when he saw you calmly folding your things into the suitcase.

“what are you doing?” he asked, but he could obviously see what you were doing. you didn’t look up instead just continued. “packing.” you reply. rafe stared at the suitcase for a second. “i can see that.” he said and you folded another shirt. “then why’d you ask?” you interviewed, and he went quiet. his jaw tightened, like he was holding back a groan. “where are you going?” he asked, looking at everything about you.

your hair, clothes, skin. “home.” you stated, dryly. the answer came so easily that it caught him off guard. “what?” he said. “you’ve spent the whole trip talking about how much you don’t want this. i figured i’d make it easier for you.” you replied.

“that’s not—” he started and you scoffed. “not what?” you cut him off, as you looked at him. “i heard you, rafe.” you mention and you got nothing but silence.

he then shifted his weight. “you’re seriously packing because i was pissed off?” he asked and you let out a small laugh mid sentence. “because you were pissed off? no.” you correct, another shirt landed in the suitcase.

“because you’ve made it very clear you don’t want me here.” you said and it was visible that something uncomfortable settled in his chest, that wasn’t what he’d been trying to say. at least, not anymore. “stop.” he demanded.

you ignored him, adjusting your shirt on your shoulder. “i said stop.” he repeated. “why?” you ask, looking up to meet his gaze. the question hit him harder than he expected, because he didn’t have a good answer at all to give you, because a couple days ago he would’ve gladly watched you walk away, but because now that you were actually doing it, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

“just…” he rubbed a hand over his face. “stop packing for five seconds.” he told you, approaching slowly as if you were an angry animal that would pounce any moment. you scoff as if he had asked you something insane, the audacity he had making you began to get angry.

“no rafe!” you say, looking at him, your volume catching him off guard. “you don’t like me, so i’m leaving. simple. i don’t need your permission.” you stated, keeping eye contact with him. his face went cold, staring at you. “i’m not stupid, nor am i gonna waste my time! i’m leaving.” you yelled, and he didn’t even react. but he did scoff when you told him you were leaving.

because he knew you weren’t, you can pack all the shit you want but he knew in his head, you weren’t leaving him. not him.

“you’re not leaving.” he stated, and you looked up at him and laughed. “watch me.” you told him, moving to the nightstand and getting your phone charger out and makeup. “i’m serious.” he told you, standing still while watching you, his tone spoke for itself. “so am i.” you flash a fake smile before rolling your eyes, putting your charger in your pocket and makeup in the suitcase. “you’re my wife.” he stated.

“a wife you don’t even want!” you correct. “i didn’t say that.” he responds, and you looked at him as if he wasn’t crazy. “yeah right” you say, rolling your eyes with attitude. his expression darkened, anger lingering in his eyes. “quit putting words in my mouth.” he demanded and you turned to him fully, crossing your arms.

“then tell me i’m wrong, rafe.”

and he couldn’t, he just sat there looking fucking stupid. “that’s what i thought.” you said quietly now, nodding in acknowledgement and you continued packing.

for the rest of the night, he left you alone. at least, mostly. after another pointless argument, he stormed back into the living room and dropped onto the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. every few minutes he’d hear another zipper, another drawer opening, another reminder that you were actually packing. it got under his skin more than he wanted to admit. twice he got up and walked toward the bedroom, only to turn around before he reached the door.

by three in the morning, he was still sitting awake on the couch, staring at nothing and listening to the sounds coming from the bedroom. he fucked hated hearing the suitcase’s wheels rolling on the floor, and the zippers bit at his patience.

he drifted off on the couch, and by the time he woke up, he heard the sound of the suitcase wheels. at first, he didn’t react, then he looked up to see the bags, all of them. his stomach dropped. “what are you doing?” he asked, but you didn’t answer. you just kept walking toward the door.

“hey.” he said, louder. but he still got nothing. “seriously, where the hell are you going?” he asked while you reached for the handle. “home.” you finally answered. rafe stood up so fast the coffee table rattled. “you’re actually leaving?” he questioned. you laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “what did you think i was doing all night?” you asked.

his jaw tightened, he didn’t have an answer, because he didn’t want to come to speak out loud about this view and also truthfully he’d thought you’d calm down, he’d thought you’d unpack, he’d thought you’d stay.

“so that’s it?” he asked, and you looked at him. “what do you want me to do, rafe?” you asked. he hates that questions like that, because when he’s asked questions like that, most of the time he doesn’t want to answer… and also because for the first time since the wedding, he knew exactly what he didn’t want. he didn’t want you walking out that door.

“don’t go.” he told you. the words came out rough, almost angry, like they had been dragged out of him. “don’t go.” he repeated and you stared at him, your hand still wrapped around the suitcase handle as you searched his face for something real, something that would make any of this make sense.

“give me one reason.” rafe looked away immediately, like he couldn’t stand being pinned down by the question. “i don’t need a reason.” he defends. “yes, you do.” you follow up quickly. “no, i don’t.” he said. you slowly let go of the suitcase handle and shook your head.

“that’s funny.” his eyes narrowed. “what?” he asked. “because every time you want something from me, there’s supposed to be a reason. every time you expect me to understand you, forgive you, follow along with whatever you decide, there’s always some explanation i’m supposed to accept. but now suddenly you want me to stay and i’m just supposed to do it because you said so?” you ask, staring at him.

“what are you talking about?” he asked. “you want me to stay? okay. why?” you question, letting your hands drop to your sides. “because i said so.” he told you. you let out a laugh that held no amusement whatsoever. “that’s not an answer.” you say. his jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the muscle jump.

“can you stop doing that?” he requested. “doing what?” you ask. “turning everything into an interrogation.” he explained and you rolled your eyes. “i’m not interrogating you, rafe. i’m asking a simple question.” you gestured toward the suitcases sitting by the door, packed and ready to go. “you’ve spent this entire trip acting like i’m a burden, like my presence is something you have to tolerate instead of something you actually want.” you stated. “that’s not true.” he continued after you quickly.

“really?” you ask. he went quiet, and that silence told you more than any argument ever could. you nodded slowly. “that’s what i thought.” you repeat again tonight. “i never said you were a burden.” he corrected. “you didn’t have to. you made it obvious enough without saying the words.” you said, flashing a fake comforted smile.

“for fuck’s sake—” he groans. “see?” you interrupted him abruptly. “there you go again.” his hands flew up in frustration. “what do you want me to say?” “the truth.” you yell. “i am telling the truth.” he yelled back. “no, you’re not.” the room fell silent after that, the tension stretching between you until it felt impossible to breathe around it. you took a step closer, refusing to look away from him this time.

“if you want me to stay, tell me why.” rafe looked frustrated enough to punch a wall, his entire body rigid with the effort of holding something back. “because.” he said dryly. “because why?” you ask. “i don’t know.” he swallowed.

“that’s a lie.” his eyes snapped to yours instantly. “you think you know everything, huh?” he questioned bitterly. “no. i think you’re scared to say it.” you mention and his expression hardened. “say what?” he asked. “that maybe you don’t hate me as much as you wanted to.” for a moment neither of you moved. neither of you spoke. the words hung heavily in the air between you.

“i never said i hated you.” he corrected. this time his voice was quieter, stripped of some of its usual anger. you swallowed hard. “then stop acting like i’m impossible to keep around.” rafe looked down at the floor, staring at it for several long seconds before finally lifting his gaze back to yours.

when he spoke again, there was something different in his expression, something tired and honest and completely unguarded. “i got used to you being here, okay?” it wasn’t a grand confession. it wasn’t romantic or dramatic or anything close to the kind of speech people gave in movies. but somehow that made it feel more real.

it was probably the most honest thing he’d said since the wedding, and you could tell how much it cost him to admit it. “and?” you asked softly. he rubbed a hand over his face and let out a slow breath. “and i don’t want you to leave.” he said, finally.

you stare at him. “keep that attitude up, and i’ll stay.” you tell him, opening the door. “you have my number, prove you don’t want me to leave, rafe.” you continue and he rubbed his face, he was livid.

his eyebrows furrowed. “what?” he asked, looking back at you as you open the door wider. “you heard me.” you said. for a second, he just stared. then his expression hardened. “that’s bullshit.” he said, aggressively. “is it?” you respond, sarcastically. “yeah, it is.” he said. “why?” you questioned.

“because you’re putting me in some stupid test.” he responded and you sigh. “no, rafe. i’m leaving.” you stated, and the words hit harder than he expected, so hard that he shifted his weight and his voice was quieter. “then leave.” he said, gesturing toward the door with his hand before letting it drop back down to his leg.

you simply nodded. “okay.”

he didn’t say anything to you after that, you bought a plane ticket back home and you arrived home some time later. you didn’t receive any calls from him when you were boarding the plane and the time prior, but when you got on the plane he started to text you, and call you.

you decided to make him wait, so you turned your phone off. when getting home, the scent of your favorite candle still lingered. the sunlight pouring through your glass french doors stretched across the hallway that you passed from the front door. it was so beautiful, and so much calmer than hanging out with your new husband.

you let your hair down from the bun, your hair touching your skin as you swayed your hips to the kitchen. you made yourself some food, the calm morning still having a warm embrace on you. you sighed, your chest becoming more comfortable and not tight and stressed out.

once you finished making your food and eating it, you headed upstairs. when you reached the second floor, you stripped out of your pants and took your shirt off just for preparation for bed. your bed was calling you, so you made it easier for you.

you opened your door, tossing the clothes to your floor, and you looked at your bed, suddenly realizing rafe sitting there.

“jesus!” you yelled, rushing to cover yourself with the door and peeking your head out to look at him. “would you stop yelling?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “you’re in my house rafe.” you defended, before squinting your eyes at him. “why are you here?” you asked.

“you turned your phone off, what the hell was i supposed to do?” he asked, looking at you. “oh, i don’t know, maybe tell me if you’re on the way?” you offered, and rafe scoffed. “right, because you were doing such a great job answering your phone.” he replied, getting up from the bed and you stared at him.

“that’s not the point.” you stated. “it is the point.” he shot back. “no, rafe, the point is i came home and found a man sitting in my bedroom.” you said to him. “your husband.” he corrected.

“don’t do that.” you scoffed. “do what?” he asked. “use that whenever it’s convenient for you.” you replied and his jaw tightened. “i called you.” he admitted. “and i didn’t answer.” you replied. “yeah, i noticed.” he replied, walking toward the door. “that doesn’t mean you get to break into my house.” you mentioned.

“i didn’t break in.” he said, lifting a brow. you then folded your arms. his hand went to the door, opening it fully to look at you.

“then how did you get in?” you asked and he went quiet for a second. “your spare key.” he admitted. “rafe.” you started. “what?” he asked. “that’s creepy…how the fuck did you even get a spare?” you asked, brows furrowed now. “you getting on a plane and disappearing was crazy.” he mentioned, ignoring your question.

“i told you i was leaving.” you replied. “and i told you not to.” he continued. you rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed past him. “you win.” you said as you rubbed your face with a soft sigh. “i’m so done arguing with you.” you said.

rafe didn’t have a comeback. it was like he didn’t even want to say anything to end the conversation. he wanted you to stay, to talk to him, but you walked past him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“seriously. i’m tired.” you assured and watched as he watched you pull the blankets back.

“that’s it?” he asked.

you looked over your shoulder. “what else is there to say?” you asked. he opened his mouth, then closed it again. there was that fucking question again. you sighed.

“if you really came all the way here just to sit in my bedroom and be angry, you can sleep here if you want.” you said. rafe stared at you. “maybe argue with me in my sleep.” you laughed softly, but he didn’t laugh. he rolled his eyes.

“that’s not why i came.” he said.

“okay.” you replied softly, providing him a soft and gentle out to this argument. but the fact that you didn’t argue made the situation worse to him. the way you just simply laid down and turned away from him made the room fall quiet.

“you’re just gonna go to sleep?” he asked.

you let out a tired laugh. “what do you want from me, rafe?” you asked once more and he didn’t answer. because that was the problem, he wasn’t entirely sure. he was never sure when that question came out.

all he knew was that seeing you leave had felt wrong, and now that he’d found you again, the fight suddenly seemed a lot less important than it had a few hours ago.

after a long moment, he looked away. “move over.” he said roughly. you raised an eyebrow. “thought you’d never ask.” you said, moving over. “don’t make it weird.” he muttered, laying down next to you.

“you’re sitting in my room.” you said, turning to look at him. “our room.” he corrected, and to that admission, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. the most physical touch he’s given you is from you giving up on an argument. you laughed at that thought. he was impossible, and so annoying.

you woke up gently, you could hear the sound of his phone faintly. you stretched lightly on the bed, getting up and sitting on your knees on the bed, hair falling loose as you finally looked at him properly.

he glanced up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. “what time is it?” you ask. “three.” he responded and your eyes widened a little. “i should probably get up and make us lunch.” you said, as you shifted forward on your knees, then leaned toward him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

he stiffened slightly, not pulling away, just surprised by the sudden closeness after everything. but you came from a family of affection, of tender love. so a kiss after you wake up was mandatory. you brushed a soft kiss along his jaw, then another near his neck. his hand paused mid scroll on his phone.

“do you want that? or do you want delivery?” you asked, your eyes meeting his again. he stared at you for a second, confused if he should be upset or happy you’re acting this way. “…why are you acting like yesterday didn’t happen?” he asked, you hummed softly, still close. “did it change what you want to eat?” you ask, and that caught him off guard.

his jaw tightened like he was trying not to react too much. “that’s not the point.” he commented. you smiled a little, backing up from him. “okay. then what’s the point?” you asked, he didn’t answer immediately. because the truth was, he didn’t know how to respond to you being soft with him again after everything.

he set his phone down. “i don’t know what’s going on with you.” he stated. “i’m just being nice, rafe.” you respond and he let out a short breath. “yeah. that’s the problem.” he said. you pushed your lips into a thin line, running your hand through his hair as you get up. “so, you want me to make it?” you ask.

he looked at you for a second longer than necessary. “i didn’t say that.” he said, you sigh and you tilted your head slightly. “you didn’t say anything.” you stated. that got a reaction out of him, but just a faint shift in his expression. “…just don’t burn anything.” he said. you smiled, getting up from the bed and already moving toward the door. “that’s not an answer.” you said.

he exhaled through his nose, setting his phone down on the bed. “yeah, fine. make it.” he said, a pause settling between you two. then, he spoke up quietly. “i’m not trying to fight with you.” he said, his tone unrecognizable because of how sweet it was. you glanced back at him. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead looking at the bed. “i know.” you gently responded.

you finally leave the room, making your way down to the stairs, the cold air biting at your skin, your eyes looking out your glass french doors and seeing ward and some random guy. you pause, looking down at your body that only had a bra and panties on.

you go back upstairs calmly, luckily they hadn’t seen you, despite your french doors being so open to the house. you go to your walk in closet, putting your hair up before putting on a top and shorts, and making your way to the bedroom to rafe. “uh. your dad is outside with some guy.” you told rafe, rafe lifted a brow.

“what guy?” he asked. you shook your head slightly, shrugging. “i don’t know. i just saw them through the glass doors.” you responded. his expression changed immediately, it was subtle, but sharp. ward seemed like he was a trigger for him, judging by how tense he got.

he sat up a little straighter. “he didn’t call.” he mentions. “does he ever?” you jokingly respond but that made his jaw tighten. rafe pushed himself off the bed. “yeah, okay.” he mumbled to himself. he grabbed his phone off the nightstand, already unlocking it. “he’s probably trying to turn this into some kind of meeting.” he mumbled to himself once more.

it seemed like he was trying to calm himself down, by his own voice and words while you watched him. “you want me to go downstairs?” you ask. he glanced at you for half a second. “no.” he said firmly. then, he swallowed. “just… stay here.” he added, his tone less strict.

there was a pause before he added, quieter, like it slipped out without thinking. “i’ll handle it.” he assured you, before brushing past you. you bite your cheek and sit on the bed, holding your face.

you spent a couple minutes up there, hearing quiet voices that stretched upstairs, you couldn’t hear them completely but rafe was mad about something. then you hear rafe coming back upstairs, when he found you, he didn’t say much.

“my dad’s downstairs.” he started, and you looked up. “yeah, i know.” you responded back and he hesitated. he shifts his weight. “he wants you down there.” he told you and your brows furrow in confusion. “why?” you question. rafe exhaled through his nose.

“just come on.” he told you, you studied him for a second, then followed. the moment you walked into the dining room, you felt it. too many chairs, it was too formal just for a quick chit chat. ward sitting like he owned the air itself, and someone else. a woman you didn’t know.

rafe stopped behind you. “what is this?” he asked, and ward gestured lightly. “sit down.” ward said but rafe didn’t move. “no. what is this.” he asked once again. a pause settled, and then ward leaned forward slightly.

“this is a marriage counselor.” rafe’s expression went completely still. “…you brought a therapist.” rafe started, glaring at ward. “for you and your wife.” ward explained, staring at rafe. rafe let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“without telling me?” rafe asked. ward’s voice stayed calm. “you weren’t going to agree if i asked.” he explained. rafe looked at him for a long moment, then glanced at you, then back at ward.

the anger he was feeling wasn’t loud it was controlled, and dangerous underneath.

“you don’t get to manage my marriage like a business deal.” rafe stated and ward didn’t flinch. “then start acting like it isn’t one.” ward clapped back.

rafe stood, arms stiff at his sides as ward looked up from his seat. ward didn’t look at him, his eyes went straight to you. a soft smile settled on his face. “hi sweetheart.” he coos. you blinked, a little surprised but you smiled back automatically.

“hi.” you reply, giving him a soft wave. ward’s tone warmed just slightly. “how are you doing?” he asked, you hesitated for half a second, then answered honestly, still polite. “i’m okay… a little confused.” you say.

“understandable,” he said smoothly. “this is a lot for you.” he gently said. rafe’s jaw tightened behind you. ward gestured toward the empty chair. “why don’t you sit down, sweetheart.” he offered. you glanced back at rafe briefly, then sat.

rafe didn’t move, which made ward finally look at him now. “you too, rafe.”

rafe let out a short breath through his nose. “no.” he said firmly but ward’s expression didn’t change. “sit.” he commanded, silence stretched then rafe slowly pulled out the chair and sat, but his posture stayed rigid. ward folded his hands. “i wanted to talk to both of you properly.”

rafe cut in immediately. “you could’ve told me what this was.” he said. ward tilted his head slightly. “you wouldn’t have come.” ward stated. rafe scoffed. “yeah. because it’s insane.” ward ignored that, eyes shifting back to you.

“i just want to make sure you’re settling in alright, sweetheart.” he explained to you, which you nodded softly. “i think i am… it’s just been a lot of change.” you describe with a smile. “of course it has,” ward said gently. “you’ve been very patient with everything.” he compliments, rafe looked between you two, disbelief flickering across his face. because he knew that tone.

it wasn’t real warmth, it was strategy. and seeing it directed at you made it worse for him, his anger started to boil even more than before.

then counselor offered a polite smile.

“thank you both for sitting down with me today. i know this probably wasn’t how either of you expected to spend your afternoon.” she said. “you got that right,” rafe muttered.

ward shot him a look but the counselor ignored it. “why don’t we start with something simple? how has married life been so far?” she asked, her eyes on you. you smiled politely. “it’s been an adjustment.” you answer. “that’s a very mature answer.” she complimented and you smiled once again. “thank you.”

“and for you, rafe?” she asked, writing down something before looking up at him. he leaned back in his chair. “it’s been great.” the deadpan answer made the counselor pause. “great?” she echoes. “yeah. fantastic.” he repeated. you closed your eyes briefly. “rafe.” you said.

“what?” he asked.

the counselor offered a patient smile. “i’m assuming that’s sarcasm.” she replied. “good catch.” he stated, ward rubbed his forehead. you could practically feel the tension radiating off rafe. the counselor tried again. “what has been the most difficult part?” she asked. “my father arranging the whole thing.” he said flatly.

“rafe.” you repeat, looking at him. “what? she asked.” he said. the woman nodded. “that’s a fair answer.” she said. rafe looked surprised for a second. “it is?” he asked and she nodded. “yes.”

his expression softened slightly. “oh.” he murmurs. you glanced at him and the counselor smiled. “you’re allowed to be frustrated. i think what we’re trying to figure out is what comes after that frustration.” she explains, and rafe looked away.

for a moment, nobody spoke and under the table, you carefully reached for his hand. his fingers immediately tensed, you honestly expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. instead, he glanced at you. you rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand once, just once.

a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone in this conversation. so, when the counselor spoke again, his answer came out less sharp. “i don’t know.” he said. the room went quiet.

“that’s okay,” she said gently. “you don’t have to know everything right now.” she continued. rafe looked down at the table, then at your hand still holding his. “i’m just trying to figure it out.” he said, being the most honest he’s been with her since sitting down. she wasn’t getting that confession again, and the woman could tell.

after ward and the woman left, rafe had been distant. quieter than usual. he wasn’t giving you the cold shoulder exactly, but the warmth from the night before had cooled. he kept himself busy, answers short, eyes avoiding prolonged contact. like he was rethinking everything that had been dragged out in front of that stranger.

you hated the shift. so later in the day, when the house felt too heavy with silence, you stood in the doorway of the bedroom and said softly, “rafe… come take a shower with me.” he looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, jaw tight. for a second you thought he might say no. his pride was still stinging.

“i’m fine,” he muttered, even though he clearly wasn’t. you didn’t push hard. you just tilted your head, voice gentle. “you don’t have to talk. i just… want you close. please?” you plead softly.

one thing your mother taught you was intimacy was something every couple needed, especially after such an intense experience for him.

that last word always did something to him. he stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose and stood up without another word. he followed you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

once the water was running hot and steam started filling the space, he undressed slowly, still not looking at you much. but when you stepped under the spray and held your hand out to him, he took it. he let you pull him in.

the moment the water hit his shoulders, some of the tension in his back eased. you didn’t force conversation. you just washed his hair, fingers gentle against his scalp, and he eventually leaned into your touch. his arms came around your waist after a while, forehead resting against your shoulder as the water ran over both of you.

he didn’t say much, but the way he held you tighter than usual told you everything. the distance was still there, but it was cracking. this was his version of letting you back in, quiet, physical, a little grumpy, but present.

he wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but it definitely was not because he suddenly loved vulnerability, but because you asked, and deep down he needed the closeness more than he wanted to admit.

standing under the warm spray, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for a second against his damp skin. “what do you need, rafe?” you asked gently, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. he stayed quiet at first, water running down his shoulders, then his voice came low and rough. “i just need you.” he said.

the words settled between you like something heavy and honest. you didn’t push for more. instead you stayed close, letting the shower run over both of you for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. his arms stayed wrapped around your waist, your bodies pressed together under the steady stream, the tension in him slowly easing.

after a while you pulled back slightly and brushed wet strands of hair from his face. “go ahead and get out, okay? go lay down. i’ll make you some dinner and then we can watch tv.” he suggest. he nodded, agreeing without argument for once. as he stepped toward the edge of the shower, he paused, cupped your face with one hand, and leaned in. his lips met yours in a soft, simple peck, your first kiss.

you blinked, a little shocked, warmth blooming across your cheeks as he pulled away. he didn’t say anything else, just gave you a small look before stepping out and grabbing a towel.

you stayed under the water a moment longer, washing your hair with slow fingers. your mind kept drifting back to that kiss, the unexpected gentleness of it, the way it felt both new and familiar at the same time. a quiet smile tugged at your lips while the steam swirled around you.

when you got out the shower, you quickly got dressed and headed out to your bedroom, giving rafe a soft glance while making your way to the stairs. you get downstairs, and search your freezer for any type of food you had.

you didn’t want to give him something fancy to overwhelm him, just somethin’ easy so he wouldn’t have to wait for a good while.

when you finally came back upstairs, balancing two plates in your hands, the television was still playing quietly in the background. rafe hadn’t moved much. he was stretched across the bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the screen without really watching it.

his eyes shifted toward you when you entered. “food.” you calmly said as you held up the plate. that got a small reaction. he sat up slowly as you placed the plate on his lap.

a burger and fries. nothin fancy. just something warm, maybe familiar. it was something filling, something easy.

rafe looked down at it, then up at you. “you made this?” he asked, you smiled. “obviously.” you respond. “you didn’t have to.” he mutters. you shrugged. “i wanted to.” you whisper to him, for a moment, he just stared at the food, then he picked up a fry.

“thanks.” he said, the words were quiet, almost awkward coming from him, but they were genuine.

that was good enough for you, so you smiled. “you’re welcome.” you said, he nodded once and looked back down at his plate, still very quiet. still thinking about whatever had been running through his head all afternoon.

but not quite as distant as before.

before you could get comfortable, rafe looked at you once again. your eyes met and he grabbed your plate and his, moving them to the nightstand. he pulled you to him as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he had been holding back for hours.

the tv hummed softly in the background, some show neither of you were really watching anymore. you melted into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest as his fingers threaded gently through your hair. the makeout grew heavier, more intimate.

tongues brushing, breaths mixing, his grip on your waist tightening just enough to keep you close. he was surprisingly gentle at first, savoring every second, every little sound you made.

his hands moved carefully, sliding under your shirt and lifting it slowly over your head. you did the same with his, palms exploring the warm skin of his chest and shoulders. clothes came off piece by piece between kisses; your shorts, his sweatpants, until there was nothing between you.

he laid you back against the pillows, hovering over you, eyes dark but soft as he took you in fully. his gaze traced every inch of your body like he was memorizing it.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, voice low and rough. he kissed down your collarbone, taking his time, hands gentle as they roamed your sides and thighs.

when he finally settled between your legs, he moved with a patience you didn’t expect from him, slow, deep thrusts, letting you feel every moment. your jaw dropped softly, his size stretching you. his forehead pressed to yours, breaths shared, bodies moving together in a steady rhythm that felt both intense and tender.

he stayed gentle through it all at the start, hands cradling your face, lips brushing yours between gasps, completely focused on you. the earlier distance had cracked wide open, replaced by something warmer, more vulnerable, as the two of you lost yourselves in each other.

rafe kept going, his pace deepening as he pressed more of his weight down onto you through his hips. each thrust hit harder now, the pressure intense and overwhelming in the best way, his body pinning you firmly into the mattress.

he buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin, lips hot and relentless as he marked you with every breath.

you lost your breath beneath him, gasping softly with every heavy stroke. his cock felt so thick and deep inside you, filling you completely. your legs stayed spread wide for him, trembling and quivering as he fucked straight into your g-spot over and over again. the sensation was almost too much, heavy delicious pleasure that made your toes curl and your thighs shake.

your hands flew up, gripping tightly onto the bed frame above your head for some kind of anchor while he drove into you. rafe didn’t ease up. he stayed right there, heavy and relentless, hips rolling with purpose, grinding against you on every thrust. his mouth never left your neck, kissing, licking, biting gently as low groans rumbled from his chest.

the weight of him, the way he fucked you so deep and steady, had you breathless and dizzy, completely lost in the feeling of him. his cock felt impossibly heavy inside you, stretching and rubbing every sensitive spot until your whole body was trembling beneath him.

his hips pressing all his weight down with every thrust, driving his cock right into that perfect spot inside you. the pressure was overwhelming, his thick length stretching and rubbing you so good you could barely think. your legs shook violently around him, still spread wide as your body tightened more and more.

“rafe—” you gasped, breath coming out in short, desperate pants. the pleasure built impossibly high until it crashed over you. you came hard around his cock, walls clenching and pulsing as waves of heat flooded through you. your mouth fell open, panting desperately for air because his cock felt so fucking good, pushing you through every throbbing second of your orgasm.

“that’s it, baby,” rafe murmured against your neck, voice low and rough with praise. he kept moving through it, slower but still deep, grinding against you. “you’re doing so good for me. fuck, cum on my cock just like that… let me feel you.” he rambled.

your hands stayed gripping the bed frame, body trembling as you rode it out. he kissed along your jaw and neck, then pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and intense.

“i’m sorry for being mean to you,” he whispered, still buried inside you, voice thick with emotion. “i don’t want you to go. i want you to stay… with me.” he said to you. he kept praising you softly between kisses, hips still rocking gently as you came down, breathless and warm beneath him.

you came hard all over his dick, your slick warmth coating every inch of him, dripping down his length with every thrust. your walls fluttered and squeezed around him so tightly, soaking him completely as your body shook beneath his weight.

“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, voice breaking with pleasure. his hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he buried himself as deep as he could go. he came hard inside you, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your pussy, filling you up with every heavy pulse.

you felt every twitch, every warm spurt as he emptied himself completely, his cock throbbing against your sensitive walls while he pressed his hips flush against yours, making sure you took every drop.

his breath was ragged against your neck, body heavy and trembling as he stayed buried inside you, both of you panting and slick with sweat. he kissed your skin softly, still rocking gently through the aftershocks, his cum leaking out around his cock as your bodies stayed locked together.

ever since that day, you two have been fucking like animals. since the day he gave you permission to do everything and anything you wanted to him, the tension between you never really settled. you’d both end up tangled up from the smallest triggers; if he looked at you a certain way, held your hand a little too long, spoke to you in that low voice, bought you random gifts, or even just looked too good while getting dressed.

this time it was over something stupid.. laundry. it had been two months since you two got married, and it still turned you on like crazy seeing him being so domestic, doing shit for you without even being asked. you walked into the laundry room to find him loading the machine, sleeves rolled up, that focused look on his face, and it hit you instantly.

before you could even think, you were bent over the washing machine, hands gripping the edge tightly as rafe shoved your shorts down and pushed inside you in one rough thrust. he was fucking you hard, deep strokes that made the machine shake beneath you.

“fuck, look at you,” he growled, one hand fisting your hair and yanking your head back. “bent over like a little slut just because i’m doing laundry. so fuckin pathetic.” he said.

his other hand came down hard, smacking your ass with a sharp sting that made you moan louder. he did it again, harder, the sound echoing in the small room. you pushed back against him, taking every inch of his thick cock, the size difference hitting you hard as he stretched you open so wide it almost hurt, because you knew he’s forcing you to take it.

rafe leaned over you, his chest pressed to your back, and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? so tight and greedy for my big dick.” he taunted.

he pulled your head back further and spit directly into your open mouth. “swallow it,” he ordered. you did, whimpering as he fucked you even rougher, hips slamming against your ass. his grip on your neck stayed firm, controlling every movement while he railed you from behind, the wet sounds of your bodies filling the laundry room.

“that’s it, take it like the desperate little housewife you are,” he groaned, smacking your ass again as he buried himself to the hilt over and over. your legs were shaking, hands gripping the washing machine for dear life as he used you exactly how he wanted.

you came so fast when he fucked you like that, but then there were other times where he fucked you and edged you for what felt like days.

you caught an attitude with him at a party at his father’s house. he warned you so many times but you didn’t want to hear it. so when you got home and the front door closed, he snatched you up. you both didn’t even make it to the main bedroom.

he pulled you into the spare room you were renovating into an office. the dress you were wearing was yanked down your legs in seconds, and getting him out of his suit might’ve been a world record.

“turn around and lay on your stomach,” he told you simply. you laughed, shaking your head. “can’t make shit simple, huh?” he asked, his face showing he wasn’t in the mood for your games. he flipped you over firmly but fell on top of you gently, his mouth right next to your ear as he worked your panties down.

“y’been so bad tonight, baby,” he muttered in your ear, pressing his weight down so you couldn’t squirm away. his words came out slow and low as he dragged your panties to your mid-thighs, using them as a makeshift restraint.

“have i?” you asked, voice already breathy.

his left arm hooked around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “mhm,” he hummed against your ear, his heavy cock dragging along the back of your thigh before he lined himself up with your pussy.

he pushed in with one slow, thick thrust, stretching you open as he buried himself deep. a broken moan slipped from your lips. rafe kept his arm locked around your neck, holding you right where he wanted while he started fucking you harder, hips snapping against your ass.

“yeah, you have,” he whispered hotly in your ear, voice rough. “acting like a fucking brat all night… thought i wouldn’t handle you when we got home?” he taunted.

you tried to reply, lips parting, but the way he was pounding into you made it hard to speak. “i—fuck, rafe—” your words came out shaky and strained, breath catching every time he drove deep. your hands gripped the sheets, body rocking forward with each rough thrust while his arm stayed firm around your throat, keeping you pressed into the mattress.

he didn’t let up, lips brushing your ear as he kept whispering. “that’s right. struggle all you want, baby. this pussy still gets so wet for me when you’re in trouble.” he comments.

you tried to talk back, lips parting as you gasped out a shaky reply. “i wasn’t—fuck—” you start. “shut up,” rafe stated low in your ear, cutting you off instantly.

before you could get another word out, he fucked you so much harder, hips slamming into you with brutal force. the sudden intensity knocked the air right out of your lungs.

every thick inch of his cock drove deeper, faster, pounding into you so relentlessly that all you could do was moan and whimper helplessly. coherent words completely failed you now. just broken, desperate sounds spilling from your mouth.

rafe’s large hand quickly moved from your throat to cover your mouth, palm pressing firmly against your lips to muffle the loud noises you couldn’t hold back. “so fucking loud,” he hissed against your ear, still railing you without mercy, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the half renovated office. “can’t even behave for five minutes without screaming for my cock.”

your eyes rolled back, body jolting forward with every savage thrust while his hand kept you quiet. you could barely breathe through the overwhelming pleasure, completely overwhelmed.

you tried to warn him, voice muffled desperately against his palm. “rafe—i’m gonna cum—” you managed to choke out, barely intelligible.

for a moment he kept the brutal pace, hips snapping hard like he was going to let you. “yeah? you wanna cum, baby?” he whispered hot against your ear, sounding almost sweet. his cock drove deep and steady, hitting that spot over and over, pushing you right to the edge.

your body tensed, thighs shaking, right there..then he pulled out completely.

a broken whine escaped you instantly, hips pushing back desperately, searching for him. “did i tell you to speak?” rafe growled, voice dark and low.

before you could even process it, he slammed back into you, rougher than before. his thrusts turned punishing, hips slamming against your ass with raw force, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he fucked you even harder. his hand stayed clamped tight over your mouth, muffling your loud cries while his arm kept you pinned beneath him.

“brats don’t get to cum that easy,” he hissed into your ear, pounding you mercilessly, stretching your soaked pussy around his thick cock with every savage stroke.

you reached back desperately, fingers digging into his biceps, gripping the hard muscle as he kept pounding into you. your mind had gone completely fuzzy, cock drunk and lost in the feeling of him stretching you so deep.

“rafe— fuck… your cock feels so good,” you babbled breathlessly against his hand, words slurring together. “so fucking big… i can’t— it’s so good, baby, please—”

he kept fucking you through your desperate little praises, hips slamming against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. your grip on his arms tightened, nails digging in as your body started trembling again, that familiar pressure building dangerously fast.

“i’m gonna cum—rafe, please, i’m so close—”

he groaned low in your ear, sounding like he was finally going to let you. his thrusts stayed deep and rough, pushing you right up to the edge, right there and then he pulled out again.

you let out a broken, frustrated sob, hips twitching uselessly as the orgasm slipped away. your body was shaking, pussy clenching around nothing while you tried to catch your breath.

rafe gave you just a few seconds to come down, breathing hard against your neck, before he lined himself up and slammed back inside you without warning. he started fucking you even harder than before, the new angle making his thick cock hit even deeper.

“not yet,” he stated, voice dark and teasing in your ear as his hand stayed pressed over your mouth. “you don’t cum until i say so, baby.” he taunted cruelly.

your muffled moans grew louder as he railed you mercilessly again, using your body like he owned it, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling, cock drunk mess beneath him once more.

“rafe— please,” you begged, voice muffled and broken against his palm. “let me cum… i’ll be good, i swear. i’ll be your good girl. please baby, i love you— i love you so much, just let me cum on your cock.” your words came out in a desperate, teary babble, body shaking as he kept pounding into you without mercy. rafe’s grip on your mouth tightened slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he listened to you fall apart for him.

“that’s it,” he growled, voice low and rough. “beg like you mean it.” he said. you kept pleading between broken moans, hips pushing back to meet his savage thrusts. “please rafe… i’ll be so good for you. i love you— fuck, please let me cum—” you beg more.

he finally gave in. his thrusts stayed deep and punishing, but he angled his hips just right, slamming into that perfect spot over and over until your whole body locked up.

“cum then,” he ordered against your ear. “cum on my cock like a good little wife.”

the permission hit you like a wave. you came hard, crying out into his hand as your pussy clenched and pulsed around his thick cock, soaking him completely. your legs shook violently, eyes rolling back while pleasure crashed through you in heavy, blinding waves. rafe fucked you through every second of it, groaning at how tightly you squeezed him.

only when your orgasm started to fade did he slow down, still buried deep inside you. he moved his hand from your mouth and pressed a hot kiss to the side of your neck, breathing hard.

We’ve all seen them by now and we have heard of them. If you haven’t, look at this link before reading my take on this huge change.The question I want to ask is: When did people start to think that literature should be “safe”?

With these new guidelines on Wattpad I’m convinced they want everything to be baby smooth, without a wrinkle, and free of any lesson, consequence, action, freedom of speech, and genuine story.

I want to be very clear and say that Wattpad isn’t trying to ban JUST SMUT. No, this isn’t about them banning smut at all. They are trying to ban anything on the website that isn’t meticulously chosen by them.

It’s a form of big censorship they are trying to mask as saying it’s “safe” when in reality they want to filter anything they don’t like.

So you could be asking- what does that mean? It means they can censor whatever they like and they don’t have to play by the rules. They are basically giving themself a whole open world where they don’t have to give a reason to nuke stories or their authors from their platform.

Why is this so serious? Because it shows other websites and also big groups, companies, or even big people in power that you can call something censorship for “safety” when it reality it’s not safe, it’s just control. Suddenly you can’t write about a touching story losing her child because it’s too “mentally stressful”. Suddenly you can’t mention politics in a book because it’s “promoting violence or hate speech”. Suddenly writing about the everyday struggles of a black woman is considered too “taboo” because it might not be “safe”.

There will never be anything in this world known as a “safe” book.

Books are meant for lessons, entertainment, consequences, fun, hatred, sadness, etc. BOOKS ARE VOICES. Sometimes it’s just a silly crack fic, sometimes it’s a deep story about a mother who lost her kid and who wants revenge. And Wattpad, as cringe as it is, is a way for MANY people to have a voice. Just like AO3, Tumblr, Quotev, etc. Writers are valid on every platform.

It’s because of platforms like this that people get a chance to share wonderful stories but monitoring anything that’s graphic, whether it be a smidge of blood or violence, or lessons on hate speech or war.

Snezhnayan men returning home to you

ft. Childe (Ajax), Alyosha, Capitano, Pantalone, Pierro, [BONUS] Flins

SFW: everyone except Capitano and Alyosha have one or two children with reader, established relationship (married)

Wordcount: 400 - 600 per character

A/N: I'm aware that only three of them are from Snezhnaya,but I'm using those featuring them in the 7.x plus Flins.

Genshin Impact masterlist

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Masterlist

Ajax

A long day. Ajax could describe his whole day too long for its own good. First Pulcinella hands him too much paperwork and then some Fatui agent thinks it's a good idea to hold him up just before he could get home.

But who was he to complain?

You, his poor wife, had been held up at home with not only your chaotic daughter but also his second baby you were carrying right under your heart.

Ajax huffs as he finally fishes out the keys with a small kitty keychain that your daughter had made for him at school and quickly unlocks the front door, pushing it open with his weary shoulder. Inside he's met with the comfy space of his home, lightened bright with orange lamps and the most delicious dinner making everything smell like heaven.

“I'm home!” He yells loudly and is met with red hair sticking out around from the corner alongside the biggest blue eyes sparkling in his direction.

“Daddy!” The little girl laughs as she runs into his arms while laughing loudly. “Daddy's home!”

Ajax lets his briefcase fall to scoop up his daughter, his familiar laughter filling the house as he throws her up and down. “Look who's hereeee! Were you good to your mommy?”

“Mhm!” Her little tooth gap becomes visible as she grins and laughs while being twirled around like some pretty princess – which she was to him. “Mommy's making borscht, my favorite!”

Ajax dramatically gasps and carries her to the kitchen where, like expected, were hunched over a huge pot of very good smelling content. “Oh, my solnyshko, you know I could've done that instead.”

You smile up at him, the exhaustion evident as you turn to him. He's immediately worried and sets your daughter down to stride over to you in wide steps and gives you a huge hug plus a kiss to your cheek. “Hey, let me take over, hm? You're supposed to rest. It's not good for the baby to–””Ajax..” You roll your eyes as he pulls back to look at you once again.

“I'm fine, okay? But what you could do is play a little with your daughter. She's been driving me crazy!” You eye the girl, who's been listening to you talk and shift on her feet while hiding her hands behind her back.

“Oh, that I can do!” His face bursts into a huge smile and he bends down to be face first at your belly, giving it a huge kiss and mumbling against it. “Be good to your mommy, hm?”

You keep your hands at your waist, one faintly reaching out to pat on his ginger hair. Then he turns to his daughter, full of energy and joy. “Who wants to be the pirate?” ”Me! Me!” He grins back at you one last time to also give you a quick peck and then he's off with your daughter on his shoulder.

Thank heavens.

Alyosha

The wind has been banging against both the door and windows for hours now just like the cold seeping through every crack into the small hut you owned alongside your husband. It hasn't been long since you were married and as newly weds he's been planning something grander for you to live in, but you assured him this was actually cozier than he thought.

Currently you were seated in front of the fireplace, poking in it to get the flame to grow a little alongside the wood you were throwing in from time to time. It's been about two hours since Alyosha had gone out alongside Tugarin to hunt some food for you three since the prices on the market had gotten ridiculously high.

You press your knees to your chest while staring into the fire, the flame reflecting in your half lidded eyes.

“I'm home.” You jolt at the deep voice, but quickly relax as you realize that it's Alyosha. “Caught two rabbits.”

He holds up the two animals by their feet, a faint smile on his calm expression. As you try to get up, Tugarin pounces on you to lick your face clean. He still smells of the fish he had eaten earlier, which you laugh at alongside the tingling feeling of his warm tongue brushing over your cheeks.

“Haha, stooop!” You get him to stop and kneel down in front of him to give him multiple kisses on his head. “Here.” You take out some old jerky from one of the boxes under your shared bed, throwing it to him for him to devour. Tugarin's tail wags as he eats. “Good boy!”

Still with a bright smile on your face you get back up on your feet, finally focusing on your husband who didn't seem too thrilled. “Hm? What?” He only huffs in response and lays the rabbits on the small table next to the window to take his hood and jacket off.

“Whaaaat?” He evades your gaze as you try to look into his eyes. The cheeky smile on your face brightens as you pinch at his cheek to direct his head to you. “Hey.”

Alyosha finally meets your gaze, eyes softening instead of him desperately trying to keep up the nonchalant act.

“What's wrong, Aly?”

He crosses his arms, turning to his canine friend who was already waiting for the next piece of beef with his wagging tail. Even though he always wants to be the serious one of the two of you, it was impossible with you being so adorable.

“Where's my hello?” Alyosha turns away again, cheeks red from how embarrassing all of this was, but like the elders always say.. communication is key.

You comically blink at him, the innocence plastered on your features. “Wait.. Are you jealous?” He abruptly turns to you, his whole face strangely red like a ripe tomato. “What?! No!”

He was. You could see it in his eyes. His pout truly wasn't usual for him and you kinda found it adorable. Carefully you rest one hand on his shoulder and take the first chance of him looking back at you to give him a kiss to his cheek.

“Welcome home.” You declare wholeheartedly. “I missed both of you.”

Alyosha's lips gape at your confession, which he'd known from the start with how much you always smiled whenever the door opened and Tugarin came sniffing for your love. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you into a soft peck. “Missed you too..”

You giggle and let go of him to tend to the rabbits. “I'll fix us a good supper. You just rest, okay?” As you pass by Tugarin and pet his head the dog follows you around the room to stay by your side as you do what you said you'd do.

How did Alyosha get so lucky again?

Capitano

“My love.”

You abruptly turn at the deep voice of your husband late in the evening. Any other person would've already been running for their lives at the sight of such a huge man standing in the doorway in the armor of a high ranking soldier, but to you it gave you security.

“Thrain!” You smile brightly at his presence, your legs faster than your head as you run into his arms. “You're home earlier than I thought.”

“Early? Is that what you think of me?” He brushes his hand over your head as the other rests between your shoulder blades. “It's nearly seven.” “Yeah, but sometimes you return late at night so..”

Capitano softly laughs at your words, pulling back so you were pressed against his side. “My dear, what were you doing?”

Your eyes sparkle as he asks, looking back at the spot where three potted plants stood. “Oh, I was just tending to the flowers. You know.. the ones you gifted me?” “I only gifted you the small frostfairy flower, so where'd you get those?”

Capitano always loved to ask about your interests, especially about your love for gardening in a nation where things as such were near to impossible. It reminded him of your love, you loving a deformed beast as him, just like in that opera about the beauty and the beast his colleagues had dragged him to.

“..so I bought it together with Columbina.” You finally finish your little rant about how you had to choose between multiple flowers and ended up getting the dandelion on a shopping spree with his two colleagues, Sandrone and Columbina.

Unbeknownst to you Capitano hadn't really been listening all that much and actually was grateful for his helmet, which he could ‘misuse’ whenever he wanted just to admire you. It hadn't been long since marrying you and those few years together had been the happiest in his centuries of living.

“Hm.. Now.. Isn't it a little too much wearing your helmet at home?” You get on your tippy toes to try and mimic you staring into his eyes. “The maids are in the making of dinner with the radishes I bought.” “You know I don't like being without it in front of others.”

You frown at his words “Others? I'm not part of the others or am I?”

His large hand comes to cup the side of your face. “No.” He says. “You're special. Fine..” He retracts his hands to take off his helmet, with you holding your breath to finally see his face again after the long day and night before without it.

“Much better, right?” You smile as his eyes become visible, which holds great shame and an uncomfortable glint to it. His entire lower jaw reaching to his eyes were bluish from the curse he had long held in himself and something he didn't want you to know until you made him step out of his comfort zone years ago.

You grin instead of leaving in disgust, which he knew many would do if he didn't wear his helmet. Capitano made it clear multiple times when not wearing the helmet that he hated the feeling of being without it, but every time you shut him down when he got to the part of you deserving someone else. With another step and reach up to his face you plant a soft kiss to his slack lips.

“You're so beautiful, Thrain..” “Stop it.. I'm not..” “You wanna bet?”

Pantalone

“When's Daddy coming home?” Your daughter had been sitting on the living room floor while stacking one of the matryoshka dolls, asking about when Feofan would be home.

You were sitting on the couch, reading the book you had been dying to read ever since buying it on the market. The kitchen next door was occupied by your maids, getting some cuisine ready to feed your starving husband, who always was very hungry when returning home. “Soon, baby.” You calmly reply. “Why don't you show your daddy how well you can read, hm? When he's home you grab your notebook, hm?”

Your daughter finds that idea amazing as her eyes sparkle and she bolts out into the huge entrance hall past the parlor and up the stairs to her huge bedroom.

“Bring this to my office.” you hear outside of the living room minutes after your daughter left. “Now.. Where are my girls?”

Feofan's voice makes you smile brightly and leave your book behind on the couch to welcome him. His eyes shine brighter as he sees you standing in the doorway, hands resting on either side of the frame. “Dorogaya(Dear).” He's at your side in seconds, pulling you into a deep kiss. “I hope you didn't miss me too much.” “Oh, you know I always do, but our little girl has been dying to show you something.”

One of Feofan's eyebrows shoots up in confusion alongside a deep hum. Before he could ask your daughter nearly trips down the steps and stops in front of you two, not even waiting to be in her father's arms. You smirk at his reaction as she starts to recite her favorite bedtime story, stumbling only a little over her words.

“Precious..” His jaw is left open at the revelation of his little daughter finally getting that one thing right that he's been spending lots of Mora on tutors for. “My little Spark..” He falls to his knees to scoop his daughter up and twirl her in the air as he rises again,her book nearly flying across the hall.

When he sets her back down his hand fishes out a small yoyo toy out of his pocket. “If I had known you were learning this much I would've bought you another doll.” She only grins and thanks her father with a kiss to his cheek, running off not even seconds after.

Then Feofan's focus turns back to you with a huge rather flirtatious smirk. With a snap of his finger one of the unoccupied maids brings a rather fancy looking bouquet of flowers and not just any flowers, it were those with a thick layer of ice over it – one of the expensive sort.

“Oh, Feo..” You don't even take the gift in your hands and instead wrap your arms around him with your lips pressing firmly to his cheek. “You didn't have to.”

“What's my money worth if I don't even get to spend it on my favorite girls?” He gives you a long passionate kiss and shoos the maid away for some privacy, letting you lead him back into the living room where you three spend the rest of your evening together.

Pierro

The guards open the door for Pierro, who's been looking a little too exhausted ever since leaving Glupov with his briefcase filled with papers that needed signing. He immediately heard his daughter's squeaky voice from her room upstairs, probably playing tea party again.

“Father. You're back.”

He's already halfway up the stairs when he hears his teenage son greet him from the doorway leading to the living room. His young eyes are covered by the white strands hanging down his forehead, eyes nonchalantly tracing up and down his father.

“Son. I'll be in my office. Tell your mother I'll be eating alone.” He grumbles under his breath.

“Again?” His son suddenly talks back, brows furrowed in frustration. “We've always eaten alone ever since Project Stuzha. Will you finally tell me.. no.. us what this is all about?”

Anger boils deep within Pierro's chest. He's been doing all of this not only for him, but also his mother and sister. Shouldn't he be grateful? All he wanted was to keep you three safe and this is how he's repaid?

“All I'm doing is for your future, your sister's future and your mother's well-being.” Pierro's heart rate spikes as he tries to keep himself from yelling at his son, who didn't know any better. “Do not question my choices.”

“Daddy, Daddy!” The high pitched voice of your daughter rings through the large mansion, catching his attention immediately. “Mommy, Daddy's home!”

Instead of getting the warm welcome she was used to, your daughter gets promptly ignored by her father as he gives his son a death glare.

“What's wrong, Pierro?” You, his wife, had appeared just in time to take your whining daughter into your arms. This hasn't been the first time of him blatantly ignoring his children due to stress and the heavy workload. The analyzer that you were immediately understood the situation and you kneel in front of your little girl to brush some hair out of her face. “Why don't you go play with your brother while I talk to your father, hm?”

Pierro lets out a frustrated sigh, turning to you. “I don't have time for this..”

“I know you don't, but that doesn't mean you should act like this.“

“Honey, I–” You press your index finger to his lips to shush him.

“Shh. I know our son asking about the Project isn't very nice of him, but he's still just a young boy who's nearing his Fatui enlistment.” Without him making a fuss you take his briefcase and give it to the next maid you see. “Just one evening of us eating together is all they ask, then you can get back to doing all nighters.”

Pierro shakes his head, but ultimately gives up arguing with you. His arms wrap around your midsection and pulls you into a soft kiss. “As understanding as always, honey.” He stares down at the living room where his children had disappeared into. “Guess I should apologize to our little girl as well.”

You nod and both of you walk down the steps with your arms encircled in the other. Marriage truly wasn't the thing for Pierro, but he wouldn't have it any other way with you.

[BONUS] Flins

“Peek-a-booo!” Your little baby laughs again as you uncover your eyes with the most squeaky voice you could muster. He had been playing all afternoon in his little stroller that you had taken outside so he didn't have to watch the wall all day inside the lighthouse you inhabited alongside your husband, Flins.

You laugh as your son tries to reach up to you, his little elf ears poking into either side of the stroller. It had always been strange to you how, even though Flins didn't have such ears, your son still inherited them somehow.

With the newly raised flowers you start to tend to some older looking graves, something you had always done even before your pregnancy and the early stages of your relationship with Flins. It makes you feel productive and less lazy.

While cleaning the tombstone of another resting place you hum some song that had been stuck in your head for the past days.

From the corner of your eye you see familiar purple hair emerging up the path following up to the lighthouse and the graveyard. Flins, still with his polearm in hand, walks up the path with a slight limp in his walk.

“Kardia(Heart).. You shouldn't be out here.” Once he's at your side, Flins's hand shoots out to cup your cheek. “It's unsafe for our little one, where is he anyway?”

You motion with your gaze to the stroller standing under one of the small roofs, where you could hear the babbling of your newborn. “But before you go I should look over your wounds.”

Flins always knew arguing with you would get him nowhere and he rather kept his words to himself. Soon he finds himself next to the stroller with you sitting beside him, hand gently guiding a bandage over one nasty cut. His focus was solely on his son, whose hands were reaching out for his father while gurgling happily, and your soft touch against his skin.

“What even happened?” You let out a frustrated sigh. “You never get hurt beyond a scrape.”

Flins chuckles to himself, turning to you all the while his hand was rummaging through one of his pockets. “This.” He pulls out a rough yet cute looking teddy bear, handing it to his awaiting baby boy. “I got it from one wandering salesman, but the Wild Hunt nearly ripped it apart. I saved it.” “Oh, Flins..”

But he's not finished.

With another wide smile, which rarely shows itself on his features, he pulls out a beautiful self picked bouquet of wildflowers. “I know how much you love Nocturnal Blossoms so I picked them on the way here..”

“Flins..” With glassy eyes you take the bouquet laced with your favorite flowers– and a few others to make it look even more extravagant– and hold it in front of your face. “They're beautiful.”

“Only the best for my beautiful wife.” With another grin he gives you a kiss and returns back to his son to take him out of the stroller. “And my sweet boy.”

He holds him up into the sky to make the few rays of sunshine that would brighten the graveyard only a little down upon him. The little baby laughs as Flins does a funny expression and the latter gives him a big kiss to his chubby cheek. “I'll be careful from now on.”

“Promise?”

PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader WARNINGS: overbearing paparazzi, intentional lowercase, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff? PLAYLIST: here WORD COUNT: 602 NOTE: got hudson on the brainnn

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you weren’t even supposed to stop.

that was the plan, at least. the car would pull up, hudson’s security would clear a path, and you’d be inside his hotel before anyone could really get a look at you.

heated rivalry had only been out a few days, surely things couldn’t have changed that much.

they had.

the moment the car slowed, shouting erupted. security was already out, two guards moving fast to the curb, hands out, voices firm as they tried to keep the crowd back. it didn’t matter. cameras still flashed from every angle, bright enough to sting your eyes.

PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader x connor storrie WARNINGS: intentional use of lowercase, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff PLAYLIST: here WORD COUNT: 805 NOTE: lowkey wanna make a series out of this . . .

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that’s the thing about the globes. every five steps, someone stops you. a producer you haven’t seen in years. a reporter who remembers a quote you gave once and will never let it go. a camera swiveling toward you the second you slow down.

you’re midway through another interview when it happens.

the interviewer. bright smile, mic angled, tilts her head toward the carpet behind you. “so, we have to ask. heated rivalry has basically taken over the internet. have you watched it and if you did, did you like it?”

you blink. then your face lights up.

“did i like it?” you repeat, already laughing. “i loved it.”