#I do choose to believe he’ll Get Out of there. They all will eventually. but it’s not going to be easy and he’s going to have to put in

[sponge-goblin-art]

“You know what could use a revolution? That hair.” - Effie Trinket, Hunger Games: Mockingjay pt 1

[moonstruckme]

i know you have the reader saying “i love you” first to poly!m, but would you be open to doing one with just sirius? And doesn’t have to be reader saying it first, could be either, but just the first “i love you” with siri?

Thank you for requesting <33

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

Sirius has been meaning to tell you, he really has. It’s only that feelings weren’t something encouraged in the house where he grew up, and he’s still not very good at them even now that he has the words, and though he’d called James a prat when he said Sirius was bad at vulnerability James is usually right about those things. Every time Sirius tries to say it, the words stick back in his molars like caramel. He wants the moment to be right, but not so heavy with gravitas that he can't play it off as casual if he needs to. Also, he thinks that if you don’t say it back he’ll probably have to move countries and change identities. Still. You deserve to know. 

Sirius decides all this whilst watching you sleep on a Sunday morning. Time moves like sap as you wake up, slow and sweet. First your face turning to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. Then your body follows, and you’re laying on your stomach, one leg hiking up so your calf brushes Sirius’ thigh. Your eyes crack into the sunlight, then shut again. Sirius thinks about tracing every slope and curve of your face, starting with your nose and working his way outward. You mumble something, half in a dream. Eventually, you catch him looking, and your eyes flutter open, smile stretching lazily across your cheeks. 

The sun rises in Sirius’ chest.  

“Hi,” you murmur. 

He gives in to one touch, drawing a line from your temple down to your chin. “Hi,” he says back. 

He thinks that he has to tell you now. He’s known for weeks already, and when’s better than when he feels it so strongly and has just resolved to have you hear it? 

He traces the same path back up your face, letting the words take form on his tongue. Your eyes flare before he opens his mouth. 

For a moment, Sirius wonders if you’ve read his mind. But then you gasp out, “What time is it?” 

He tells you, and you vault out of bed, suddenly wide awake. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, passing an anxious hand through your hair as you hurry towards the bathroom. “I was supposed to meet Mary for coffee at nine! I can’t believe I forgot to set an alarm.” 

Sirius sits up. “She won’t hold it against you. Everyone sleeps in on Sundays, whose idea was it to meet before noon anyway?” 

“Hers.” Your voice sounds garbled, and he guesses by the sound of it that you’re brushing your teeth. The sink turns on. “I just hate the idea that she’s been waiting on me all this time.” 

He pummels his feelings back into submission, getting out of bed. “I’m sure she hasn’t.” He pads into the bathroom, hugging you from behind whilst you speed-run your skincare routine. “James said he was out with her and Lily last night. She probably didn't remember to set her alarm either.” 

“Really?” You sound hopeful. “I don’t want her to think I ditched her.” 

Sirius presses a placating kiss to your shoulder. “I bet she's just waking up herself. Want me to give her a ring?” 

“Would you?” 

“Sure.” 

“Thank you.” You turn around, kissing him properly. Sirius’ lips buzz with the things he can’t say. “You’re the best.” 

Well, at least he can be that for you. 

~~~

The second time Sirius tries to confess, it’s just as impulsive. What can he say—planning was always more James’ thing, Sirius never had an affinity for it. He does his best thinking on his feet. 

You’re in a pub, your friends and drinks abandoned at a table in the corner. It’s loud and crowded, one of those electric Friday nights. And this pub, in what Sirius chooses to believe is a happy turn of fate, has a hallway. It’s short and sparsely lit, leading only to an employee bathroom. Through rose-tinted glasses and possibly also beer goggles, it looks to both of you like an opportunity too good to pass up. 

Sirius has you pressed between stacks of chairs, your laughter fizzing on his tongue. You taste like cider and the sticky toffee pudding you’d ordered on a whim to split with James, and one of your fingers is hooked through Sirius’ belt loop as if to keep him tethered to you. As if you need to do anything at all to be sure of that. 

He pushes his knee between your thighs, and your lips curve against his. 

“Cruel,” you say. “You can’t do things like that in public.” 

Sirius plays dumb. “Things like what, lovely girl?”

“Tease me.” 

“Oh?” He peeks at you through his lashes, and you’re looking at him, too, eyes glittery. “And what is it that you think you’re doing?” 

“Kissing.” 

“Right. Is that all?” 

He can practically feel the giggle bubbling in your throat. “What else?” 

“No, nothing. Nothing at all.” 

You press your lips to his, and Sirius thinks it, crystal clear. An obvious truth. He thinks that it might be fun to tell you this way, to let you feel how his lips form the words against your own. Maybe you can roll them around in your mouth and give them a taste. 

“I—”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” 

You’re looking behind him, expression turned to shy contrition. You’re smiling just a tiny bit, eager to be laughed off and forgiven, but the pub manager Sirius finds when he turns around appears only weary. 

“Just go,” he says. 

You don’t need to be told twice, urging Sirius out of your little alcove and pulling him by the hand back towards your table to relay the story embarrassedly to your friends. The moment passes. 

~~~

The third time, Sirius actually does plan, but you don’t show up. He considers this a probable sign that he should never plan anything ever again. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s pretty put out. James got all this stuff into his head about romance and home cooked meals and even though Sirius doesn’t consider himself good at either of those things, he did try. He made the simplest thing he could find that you might like, cleaned off the kitchen table for the first time in forever, lit candles and then blew them out because that felt like too much. Lit them again, because who was he kidding. 

It was supposed to be a surprise when you came home from work, only now it’s an hour past when Sirius had been expecting you and you’re not home. Not your fault, obviously. He hadn’t hinted you were doing anything special, and you’re not obligated to keep him abreast of your comings and goings no matter how much Sirius wishes you would right this moment. He’d caved and called your work a few minutes ago, worried about you, but there’d been no answer. Your office is closed for the day. 

He nearly jumps out of his chair when you come in, a cold wind coming with you before you shut the door on it. 

“Fuck.” You give a shiver, setting two drink containers down on the counter before starting to pull off your coat. Your hair is wind-whipped and your lips look chapped. Sirius has a suspicion that if he pinched the tip of your nose it’d be frozen solid. “It is gusty out there.” 

“What happened to you?” Despite his best intentions, there’s a bit of accusation in Sirius’ tone. “Did you go somewhere after work?” 

“It’s so—” You laugh, taking off your shoes. “It’s so stupid, honestly. But in my defense, I had no idea how long it would take.” 

“How long what would take?” 

“Okay, you know how—wait.” You look around, noting the candles and the set table. “Did we have plans?” 

Sirius winces. “No. We didn’t. This was…impromptu. It was going to be a surprise.” 

“Did you make dinner?” 

“Well, it’s cold now.” 

Your lips part, crestfallen. “Oh. Sirius, baby,” you breathe, moving towards him, “I’m sorry. I’d have come straight home if I’d known.” 

“I know,” he says, fighting his own umbrage at the humiliating blunder. “I didn’t tell you. It’s fine.” 

“But you made—” 

“Would you just—really, it’s okay.” Sirius uses your hands to pull you down into the chair next to him. “Just tell me what happened.” 

You still look miserable—really not what Sirius had hoped for tonight—but you start to explain again. “You know how you were obsessed with those salted caramel hot cocoas that one coffee shop had?” 

Sirius feels his eyebrow lift. This feels like an odd place to start. “Yeah. The one that they sold out of after two weeks?” 

“Right,” you say weakly. “They said it was because they had troubles with the vendor and ran out of the syrup.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Well, it turns out there’s more than one of that particular coffee shop. This girl at my work was talking about this salted caramel hot cocoa she’d tried, and she said she got it at another location of the same place. They’re, like, a local chain or something.” 

You’re still looking guiltily at the cold plate of food beside you, but you’re picking up steam now, talking more animatedly and fishing a tube of lip balm out of your pocket as you tell the story. 

“So, I looked it up and it turned out there was one right close to my work. I figured that had to be the place she got it, so I went down there to snag one after I got off.” You smear lip balm on while you speak, Sirius’ attention captivated by the movement. “I waited in this whole long line, and when I got up there the guy said the same thing they told you at the other place. They hadn’t had it for months. 

So I called my friend from work, and apparently there are actually three locations and she’d gotten it from the one near her flat. And her flat was totally across town, but I figured I’d already waited in line, why not just commit? So I took the bus down there and…” 

You stand, going to the counter to retrieve the drink containers you’d come in with. Sirius had forgotten about them. 

“...got us these.” You pass one to him. “The guy said hardly anyone ever orders them there, for some reason. I got him to sell me a thing of the syrup, too.” You point with your chin to the counter. “It’s in my bag. I thought we could try to make our own, even if they’re not quite as good.” 

Sirius is appalled. “You spent over an hour after work running across town…to get me a hot cocoa?” 

You smile sheepishly. “I told you it was stupid.” 

“Are you kidding me?” He sets his hot cocoa down on the table, taking your face between his hands and kissing you ardently. “I love you.” 

He knows your eyes are open without having to open his. When he does, pulling away from you gently, your lips stay parted. 

“Sirius,” you say slowly, the way you might talk to a wild animal, “it’s only cocoa.” 

He grins, a nervous tic. “I realize that makes the whole sentiment sound rather conditional, but it’s not really.” 

“Do you really mean it?” you almost whisper. 

Sirius swallows. In his head, blurting it out involved much less explaining. This seems like that vulnerability thing James warned him about. 

“Yes,” he says. Forces himself to do it without fanfare. “Of course I meant it. Why wouldn’t I mean it?” 

“It just seems like the sort of thing you might say on a whim,” you admit. Later, Sirius thinks, you might laugh about how close to the truth you really were. You look bashful now, shrinking in on yourself and lip dimpling like you’re biting down on a smile. He chooses to interpret this as a good sign. 

“It’s not a whim,” he reassures you. “It’s…I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He cracks a smile, grateful when you let yours loose too. “Felt like you ought to know.” 

You give a little laugh. “Is that why you made dinner?” 

“Not my best plan. We can blame James.” 

“James knew?” 

“Well, I—” Truthfully, there’s not much that goes through Sirius’ head that James doesn’t hear about. Usually immediately. “He’s got some more practice with this stuff than I do. You know, considering he’s been professing his love to Evans since he was about eleven years old.” 

You’re still smiling. A private, amused sort of smile. “So you consulted with him.” 

Fuck. Now Sirius feels about eleven years old. “Humiliating, isn’t it?” 

“No.” You wrap your fingers in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Sweet.” 

You kiss him much more nicely than he had you, soft, gentle presses of your freshly moisturized lips. Your hand moves to cup his face. 

“Oh,” you mumble. “I love you, too, by the way.” 

Sirius lets out a relieved bark of laughter, too loud and too sharp. “Good to know,” he says. “Thanks.” 

You laugh, too. “Sorry I forgot to say it. Fuck, I really ruined your confession every way imaginable, didn’t I?” 

“That’s okay.” Sirius leans back in. “I ruined it first.” 

[cecilyv]

Out of myth into history | bucktommy | pg

@liminalmemories21 and I ruminating on the old soulmarks au.

3.1k | au

----

When he turns seventeen, Buck wakes up with three tattoos that he does not remember getting. Luckily (or unluckily, he hasn’t really decided), there’s no one around to realize what’s happened. Under the harsh light of his bathroom, he stares at his arm, cursive writing sprawled across his forearm and figures it’s a good thing that Maddie’s busy, too busy to bother with him and his magically appearing tattoos. Doesn’t bother to consider what his parents would think for longer than a second; it’s not like they’d care – definitely not like they’d notice. 

He cranes his neck in the mirror to see the expansive scrawl across his back; examines the scratch mark text across his calf. Wracks his brain, but can’t remember how any of them got there.  He’s not a partier (he’d have to have friends for that); he could be concussed, but it’s not football season.  Wonders what tattoo parlor would even be willing to work on the body of a kid who must have been blasted out of his mind. Anyway, they’re not red, raised – don’t look anything like the fresh tattoos he’s seen before. These are slightly faded, even – lived in. He stares in the mirror and wishes he had someone to ask, but figures maybe it’s better that no one gives a shit. Feels like he should be more freaked out by this than he is. They do feel alien, foreign – these unexplained words on his skin. He never finds a receipt, or anyone who claims credit, and eventually it fades into another mysterious thing that happens to him outside of his control. 

Never met anyone else with tattoos that just appeared one day (that you know about, a voice whispers). He reads them, tracing the ones he can reach, over and over again; wonders what they mean, why he’d chosen them. Starts to feel like they chose him more than the other way around, like maybe they show a little more of himself than he wants the world to see. 

When he turns eighteen, his world… widens. He gets the keys to the jeep, Maddie’s tacit permission to go wherever he wants, and the legality to turn his magical tattoos into something else, something he creates. He spends all of the first three paychecks he gets bartending to expand the tattoo on his forearm – the one that’s hard to hide. He’s broke, sleeps in the jeep, but that’s fine. 

It’s not like anyone cares, or is missing him. 

Plus, now it feels like they’re his, a part of him. Something he can control. 

In Virginia he finds someone else with a tattoo like his. He knows he’s staring as he passes over his drink, the guy’s sleeve pulling up slightly when he reaches out to take the glass, and the black lines are there, on his wrist for everyone to see – a random word, odd handwriting, nothing that looks like someone would get it purposefully, so he – asks.  Learns that they’re a thing.  That happens to some people.  They’re rare.   Nobody knows why or how, or if there’s a rhyme or reason to who the magic chooses.  He’s not sure he believes in magic, but he doesn’t have a better word, so he lets Ethan’s terminology stand (any sufficiently advanced technology, he thinks).  They’re supposed to mean soulmate.  Or so Ethan says.  

Soulmate – isn’t sure what he thinks about that, what that really means. Someone built for him? That he’s built for? Someone who – would care, be there for him.  Someone would stay, or run away with him. Doesn’t know what that would look like. His parents don’t like him, certainly; he’s not even sure they like each other. The less said about Maddie and Doug, the better. Doesn’t know any other people to look to, to dream about what’s possible.  

And unlike Ethan, and everyone else he talked about – Buck has three tattoos, not just the one.  Doesn’t know what that means.  Tries not to think about what it – how many more people he’ll have to lose.

But he has a lot of time, on the road, at the ranch, staring into space trying to ignore what’s happening at the bar around him. He searches for others like him. There isn’t a lot out there, not that he trusted, not in the corners of the internet where he’s willing to look. He figures he's got time. 

He floats around, untethered, unmoored, no purpose until he meets Bobby. And then he finds Abby. 

He thinks, this is it, I found my soulmate. (Or one of them; still not sure how that works. Isn’t sure he wants to know, now, not when he just found her. Doesn’t want to think about losing her). He watched her sign bills one night and recognized the handwriting; it matched what was on his forearm, confirmation of the way he felt. That he was already in love.

It didn't match what was on his back. His leg.   But that didn’t matter.  Her handwriting matched the words inked on his arm.  It had to mean something.  He spun a future for them – a dog, a house, meals together, sex and laughter; someone to come home to.

There was a moment when he was going to tell her. It was just after her mom passed. They were sitting at the table, breakfast spread out in front ("Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," she told him once. 

"You're not my mom," he'd said with a grin, a kiss to her forehead)

But it became a thing, for the two of them, a quiet moment when there weren’t many at the end with her mom. A space where they, she could just... be. Now it was – comforting. Love, he thought.) 

He cradled his coffee cup, swirling the milk around inside, gathering up the nerve to say it, to tell her – that he loved her, that she – they – were written in the stars, or at least, inked forever onto his skin, the way she was lodged in his heart. 

"I'm going to Italy," she says, into the quiet. "I leave tomorrow."

He swallows, swirls the cup again. "Okay," he says, "When will you be back?" 

He watches her walk away at the airport, stands in front of the automatic doors before a police officer kindly asks him to move along. He bites his lip, holding down the scream – she was coming back, she was. She was his; she was written on his skin. 

He rolls up the sleeve of his jacket, looks down at the tattoo, finds the edge of her handwriting within and traces them. 

She wouldn't be here, if she wasn't, right?

After she leaves, he falls down a reddit rabbit hole (or three). He knows that not everyone has these marks, these snippets of handwriting that match someone they find, they love.  He knows that not everyone finds a person that matches, that they fall in love and it's just that – love, no fate, no hidden strings drawing them together.  But he wants to know more, about the people who do find their matches.  The internet’s full of people for and against it – people who say everyone has a red string of fate that connects them, and people who ask what about free will.  He’s not sure what he believes.  Doesn’t think it means soulmates anymore – a soulmate would stay.  Wouldn’t they?

When Abby comes back – engaged, with stepdaughters to be, he decides it means – the people whose handwriting match his tattoos; maybe they’re his soulmates.  Doesn’t mean he’s theirs.

-----------

Later: He knows Ali’s not for him, long before he ever sees her write something. The look on her face when he came home, talking excitedly about whatever insane shit he’d done at work that day had been a clue. 

And he's not gonna lie; he appreciated Natalia and what she does, she’d been what he needed at the time.  But inside, he's so thankful when he sees her write out a grocery list and realizes it doesn't match the writing on his back.

He never thought about telling Taylor. Recognized her handwriting before they even really started dating, but never considered telling her. Maybe that should have been a sign.

He doesn’t regret dating Taylor – regrets the way it ended; his part, her part. But he doesn’t regret trying. They didn’t work in the end, but he’d loved her as much as he could, as much as she’d let him. And it taught him more about what he wanted, gave a shape to a hoped for future that had always been hazy before.

He wants honesty, compassion – passion, too, of course, but – someone who wants to take care of him.  Someone who will let him take care of them in return.  (All things he thought he’d found with Tommy, until the end. Still doesn’t understand it; isn't sure he ever will.)

He tries to imagine sometimes what she would have said. At his least charitable, when he’s bitter and pissed off he imagines that she’d have wanted to write a story about it, held him up to a microscope and dissected him. On the days when he remembers the way she’d look in the morning before she put on her face, when she was still sleep soft with messy hair and no makeup, he’d imagine that she’d have been curious about it, but a little awed too — that there was this sign that they were meant to be together, that they’d managed to find each other. And it would be their secret.

She used to lay across his back, running her fingers over all the tattoos, a comforting weight. Thinks he's lucky that hers was on his leg – hidden away under the covers – and he still laughs at how bad her handwriting is.

He doesn’t realize he’s got Tommy’s handwriting inked into his skin until the second time they try.

Thinks that’s good, because he’s not sure he’d have had the courage to try again if he’d known.  There’s only so much failure he can take – and thinks if he’d known it was Tommy’s words inked across the back of his shoulder that it would have felt like three strikes, you’re out.  End of the inning, game over.

They didn't know a lot about each other, or they knew less than they thought they did – he still thinks he knows Tommy, the Tommy who always comes when he calls, who says yes until he doesn't, who believes in second chances. But he didn't know Tommy's precise, deliberate cursive scrawl, the kind carefully crafted in elementary school between the dashed lines of the special paper, curves and loops, measured to hit the lines precisely.

Hiding that on his back had taken his artist the most time, creativity of any of his cover up jobs.

It’s six months into their second try — long enough that he’s not looking over his shoulder every night to see if Tommy’s still there,  but not long enough that he doesn’t see the date looming in the calendar and worry. They’re better this time – he thinks. More honest. More open. More vulnerable. More willing to admit the things that scare them. Mutually assured destruction, he thinks in his more pessimistic moments; building something together, he thinks when morning comes and Tommy is in his kitchen making eggs and toast and coffee after a shift.

Tommy’s writing a birthday card for his cousin and he catches a glimpse of the tail of the g in Gregory, the careful loop of the cursive r to connect it to the t in birthday. He’s so fascinated by watching Tommy form the letters – a thing he’d never been able to do to his parents’ satisfaction– that it takes his brain a second to realize that he knows that careful cursive.

Has to go into the bathroom and take off his shirt and stare at his back in the mirror, picking out the words from underneath the vines his tattoo artist had laid over top. Confirm that what he just saw and what he remembers are the same thing.

He’s in there long enough that Tommy knocks on the door. “Everything okay in there? I told you I didn’t know how long that jam had been in the fridge.”

It gets him to pull his shirt back on and open the door. “The jam was fine. Sorry, just making myself pretty for your cousin’s party.”

It’s meant to make Tommy smile, maybe say he’s always pretty. Instead it makes him frown harder, says, “We don’t have to go. Or well, I need to drop off the present, but you don’t have to come with me, or we don’t have to stay long.”

He stops Tommy talking by kissing him, which is usually Tommy’s line, but works just as well in reverse. “I want to meet your cousin, I’m just being weird, ignore me.” Glances at his watch. “And we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on. Chop chop.”

Tommy squints at him. “Who are you, and why do you sound like Howie right now?” Peers around Buck into the bathroom. “Am I gonna find a pod if I go in there?”

He kisses Tommy again, and says firmly, “I keep it under the bed.” Which makes Tommy laugh and ask who got him to watch classic horror movies. And Buck doesn’t mention the tattoo

And then enough time passes that it's weird. Would be weird, if he brought it up now, said something. But, he’s back to this world where he has a secret, a thing he's – keeping from Tommy is a strong statement. Not telling him.  Lying by omission. But, he's hidden it for so long, never told anyone, not even Bobby, when he was worried, after Abby (should he move on, from this thing the fates, the gods, whomever literally put into his skin?), after Taylor (had he just fucked up his last chance, was this his moment?).

Wants and doesn’t want to say something.  Anyway, what would Tommy say in response?

One long stretch when they’re on opposite shifts and only see each other when they’re asleep, he lies awake next to Tommy and tries to figure out how he can be so sure he wants to live with him, wants to marry him someday, and still have this visceral recoil every time he thinks about telling Tommy he’s got his handwriting on his back. Has done half his life.

It takes him another week to come up with something that feels like the real answer – he wants Tommy to stay because he wants to stay, not because of the long hand of fate, or because he feels like he’s supposed to. He doesn’t want to be a duty. He wants … he wants to be loved because of, not in spite of. He wants to be loved anyway. He wants to be loved. Full stop. No qualifiers.

There's also a small piece of him that's worried that Tommy will run, again, if he thinks he... is being forced? Is fated? Tommy doesn't believe in any of that – forge his own path, be his own man.  Tommy’s built himself into the man he wants to be out of the wreckage of a lot of men he doesn’t want to be.  Buck doesn’t want to tell him that there’s any part of that that he doesn’t get a choice about.

It should have made him feel better, after Abby. To know he could, had found a person, had loved them. Meant he could probably do it again, maybe better this time. He'd be more prepared, not as young. Wouldn't expect as much.

It didn't. Mostly he just learned (again) that he could lose them.

In the end, it’s years before Tommy finds out – years of living together, and shared calendars, and grocery lists, and fights about who ate the late oreo and who left the light on in the bathroom all day, and vacations together, and dealing with each other's families together, and bills, and holidays.

He's tracing the tattoo on Buck's back, Buck floating in the intimacy of their bed and lack of space between them, and Buck feels him pause; he’s not thinking when he makes a querulous noise – "Hey, don't stop."

Except Tommy's reaching for his reading glasses and pushing Buck until he's a little closer to the light.  "Is there writing under this?  How have I never noticed this before?"

And Buck stills, holds his breath – isn't sure if he wants Tommy to realize or not.

And then in a quieter voice, "Is this my handwriting?"

And Buck never wanted to put it on him, make him feel like he had to stay – he'd learned that he wanted Tommy there, but only if he wanted to be. That was important; Tommy needed to be able to walk away. 

In the still of the night, sheets twisted around them, skin damp, Buck star-fished across the entire bed, Tommy is, again, tracing the lines on his back, softly. He seems to have found what he's looking for, kisses a spot, softly, then another. Buck thinks, I should put a shirt on, he shouldn't have to see this – but when Buck moves, slightly, it's an aborted motion, Tommy holding him down, all strength in his hand against Buck's back. 

"You don't have to hide from me," Tommy starts. "Please don't hide from me." 

"I don't– you shouldn't – this isn't how..." Buck trails off unsure how to finish, hell, how to start that sentence. 

"It's nice," Tommy's breath glides over his skin, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps, "It's a..." a pause, "A confirmation. You're my last. I'm yours. This is just – the final piece of the puzzle." 

"I love you," Buck says, a little desperately, "And not just because there's this damned magical tattoo."

Tommy interrupts, "No, no, I know that. I know you. But it's nice, you know?" Buck can hear the smile in his voice, wishes he could see his face, so he flips over, dislodging Tommy, who goes with it, runs a thumb across Buck's cheekbone. "You'll never forget me. It's not why, it's not how but it's..." 

When he was seventeen, he didn't know what the universe was trying to tell him. Maybe give him hope? Show him there was more out there than he'd seen so far?  Give him a reason to get out and find the thing – the person – he needed.  Find himself along the way.

Now he's married; they have a mortgage and a dog and dealt with Tommy's mother dying, Buck watching, clutching his hand while he stared straight ahead and didn't cry. 

It's still hope. It's still joy – it's just built on a foundation they stacked together, by hand, brick by brick. No magic there, no skipping steps.

"I think they just wanted you to look," Tommy says. "And I'm so glad you found me."

“Me too,” he whispers into Tommy’s mouth, and kisses his smile.

[twistedpink]

(1/2)

The ask box is getting devoured again.

My first request is for a soulmate!Leona. A few weeks ago I sent in a reluctant Leona to the red string...

What's your take on his POV regarding a willing soulmate. Will he sink or swim? Get his happy ending?

This lowkey killed me lol @bju3c0re @menherabuluv

Soulmate!Leona kind of thinks you’re insane to lie like that- I mean, you? With him? Whether it’s a string or timer, maybe even some magical pull to you, he’s a sceptic at heart,, And if Leona knows anything, it’s that he’s the whole package IN THEORY, and you’re not the first to pull a “It’s fate!!” with waterworks and a boombox. You probably won’t be the last to, either, so he really should just let you go- your real soulmate’s out there, and he’s sure they’d put in the effort to win you over.. Wherever they are. (Ignoring the cold sweats and insomnia rejecting you gets him- yeah, you’ve gotta be faking,, Right?)

Regardless of the path he takes or the classes he misses, Soulmate!Leona just can’t shake you- it’s not like you’re following him, either; even when you’re so far beyond his reach, you’re never out of sight,, Your voice resonates in his ears, your smell in his clothes, and your visage in his mind- he lays awake after dreams of you, and that’s when he knows you’ll never really leave him. But Leona’s not one to take anything lying down, and even if it hurts, he wants to choose for himself if you’re ‘the one’.

Soulmate!Leona EVENTUALLY lets you hit (and totally not because he finally believes you- it’s just that the man has needs and you’re right. THERE.) and it’s,, Surprisingly pleasant, to put it ‘Villy’. He’s literally never had better, and after the trip you took him on, he’s not sure he ever will. It was so earth shattering he can’t even stomach the idea of other hookups- he skips practice not because he wants to, but because he’s stuck in bed like some loser. Thinking of YOU. He’s been broken :( You’re just laying there all peaceful with a grossly loving look on your face- and that’s when he realizes.. Even if it’s not fate, (because it’s totally NOT) it’d be a service to tie you down; because whatever the hell you did to him was life destroying. For the safety of the country- no, the world, he has a duty to ask you out, and that’s exactly what he’ll do! (Yknow, when he has the strength to stop gazing longingly in your direction)

Soulmate!Leona realizes far too late that maybe it IS destiny, and that like so many things in his life, you were completely out of his control- it may hurt his pride a little (lot) that the only person who really loves him was made to, but even he can’t escape the honeymoon phase.. Poor guy just can’t help melting into you- emotionally and physically. Even with all the communication you hone over time (couple goals) he doesn’t have to vocalize anything because you just know, and he just knows you,, Almost like a matching set. So maybe, just maybe, going with the universe’s flow was worth it for once if it brought along his missing piece <3

[sweetdispatch]

Attention seeker

masterlist pairing: Matt Rempe x Hughes!reader summary: You and Matt are together. Quinn and Luke are cool with that but Jack? He's furious. warning: swearing

All your life was about hockey. Your brothers play it, your parents played it and you used to too. Although, for you the journey ended up when you got a nasty injury during one of the games and couldn’t compete anymore. You felt sad at first, but this opened plenty of opportunities for you. When you graduated high school, you decided to leave Michigan. You didn’t want to follow Quinn’s steps there. 

New York was always your dream place to live. That’s why you decided to apply for university there. Thankfully, you got it and this is how your free life hockey started. At least this is what you thought. Your parents begged you to move with your brother Jack who was playing for New Jersey Devils. At first, you didn’t like the idea of travelling every single day but eventually you agreed on that. 

In May 2023, you decided to move out from Jack’s apartment. You graduated and wanted to be independent, plus Luke was coming to play with him and you didn’t want to third wheel them. During the three years, you and Jack bonded and became the closest with each other. Earlier, he was always with Quinn while you were with Luke but now, it was you and Jack against them. 

One thing that you learned about Jack was that he hated the New York Rangers. You get it that the teams have conflict but he took it personally. This is when everything you built with him fell down. You were always sharing the stories about guys with him and searching for help but now, you couldn’t now. You knew that he’s dramatic and the last thing you wanted was an argument with him over who you are dating. 

At the beginning of 2024, you met Matt. At first, you didn’t know he’s a hockey player but two of you clicked immediately. You lived in your bubble with him until he started playing for Rangers. In that moment you knew that you can’t tell this to your brothers. He understood it because he hated the New Jersey Devils and he wouldn’t like his sister dating a player from this team. 

You lived by yourself so you didn’t have to sneak out behind your two brothers' backs with your relationship but every time Matt was coming to you, you felt the thrill that they might come by to visit. You believed that he’s your soulmate and didn’t want to choose between him and your brothers. When things become serious between you and Matt, you have to share this with someone. You called your mom to break the news.

“Mom, I met a guy and he’s been really good for me” You started.

“That’s wonderful! Tell me everything about him” She was curious to know who won her daughter’ heart.

“His name is Matt and he’s a hockey player” 

“You can’t get out of the hockey world” Your mom jokes.

“But there’s a problem…” You took a deep breath and continued. “He plays for Rangers”

“Ohhh… Do your brothers know?” She asked.

“No and you can’t tell them” You begged.

“You have to tell them. They’ll find out eventually and it’s better if they hear it from you and not from someone other” Your mom stated.

“You’re right but I can’t. At least for now. I just need to find a good occasion for this I guess” You said and hung up. 

The next few days you were thinking how to tell the news to your brothers. You weren’t scared of Quinn and Luke’ reaction. Jack was the one that scared you the most to tell this. For your luck, Quinn was living in a different country so you decided to tell him this first.

“I have a boyfriend” You said the moment he picked up your phone.

“Okay, you need my blessing for this?” Quinn was confused why you told him that. 

“No but I need you to keep this as a secret” 

“Why?” 

“It’s Matt from Rangers and you know how much Jack hates them” You sighed. 

“I won’t tell him that but you know that he’ll find out? You live like 30 minutes from each other” He tried to convince you to admit this to Jack.

“I know but I’m scared, you know Jack. He’s a drama queen” Quinn laughed at your words. 

“Well, good luck with Jack and I’m happy for you. It make sense why you were smiling that much lately” 

“I did not!” You fought back.

After a week, you were ready to tell the news to Jack, but to your bad luck, Devils were playing against Rangers. You went to this game and the first thing you saw was a huge fight and of course, Matt was part of it. Now, your confidence in telling this to Jack disappeared. The game ended up and you went back to your apartment. You didn’t want to see Matt or your brothers. You needed to rethink this whole situation. 

Two hours later, you heard the ring door. You went to open and saw Matt in front of you. You let him but hadn’t said a word.

“I came because you weren’t answering your phone” He started. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I still have my phone in my purse and haven’t heard” You lied. 

Matt went and sat on your couch when you arrived next to him. He turned on the tv show you two have been watching lately. When the episode ended, you heard the ring door. Without even thinking, you went to open the door. You froze on the spot when you saw your brothers. 

“Umm, what are you doing here?” You asked awkwardly. 

“I don’t know, we decided to visit our sister probably” Jack said and walked with Luke into your apartment. 

“What are the noises?” Luke asked you but before you could answer, you two heard Jack. 

“What the fuck does he do here?” He was fuming. It was a tense atmosphere there.

“He’s there because… we’re dating” You admitted. Jack looked at you with big eyes. 

“What? Are you kidding me?” He couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“I’m not, we’ve been together for the past four months” You started playing with your fingers and Luke noticed it. He knew it was your anxiety habit.

“Jack, does it matter who she's dating?” Luke tried to talk to Jack but he didn’t want to listen.

“Yes! She can’t fucking date him. From all of the guys you had to pick him?” He closed the distance between you two. “Are you that desperate for attention that you picked him?”

“What does it supposed to mean?” You argued.

“That you’re an attention seeker! I get it, you’re mad that your brothers made it into NHL when you fucked your knee but that’s on you. You’ve always been terrible in hockey anyways, but searching for attention by dating the worst player out there? Pathetic. Don’t come to me when he makes you cry because…” Before he could finish, Matt spoke.

“What the fuck did you just said to her? You’re her brother and you’re blaming her for her injury and falling in love with someone you don’t like? You’re the pathetic one for thinking this low about your own sister” Jack hadn’t responded. Only looked at you and saw tears in your eyes. He knew he screwed up but his ego didn’t let him apologise. Instead, he left the apartment. 

Matt quickly was by your side and hugged you. He let you cry into his chest while Luke was standing there, observing the whole situation.

“I’m so sorry for him. He’s a dick for saying this to you. That was a low blow from him to bring your insecurities” He said and you went to hug him. 

“Thanks Luke, are you mad too?” 

“I’m not thrilled that you’re dating Matt but I can see how much happiness and support he gives you and that’s the most important thing right?” You nodded. “I’ll try to talk with Jack about it but he just needs a moment to get used to it” He hugged you and left. You were there alone with Matt.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

“I’ll live. Can we get back to the tv show because I really don’t want to talk about it” You proposed and Matt agreed.

Couple days went by and you haven’t heard a word from Jack. It hurt you that your own brother turned back on you only because you’re dating a guy from his rival team. Matt was all the time next to you trying to be supportive. Luke told everyone about the argument. Quinn and your parents were checking on you to see how you feel. They also spare a piece of their mind to Jack.

Jack was aware that he messed up real good. He knew how heartbroken you were about your injury and he just threw it into your face. He wanted to apologise and fix it but he didn’t know how. He was scared that you might shut him down and ignore. It was the longest time when you two haven’t spoken with each other and he felt weird without you by his side. 

After his season was done, Jack finally found the bravery to visit you. He knew you’re not going home for summer because you have work. That's why his steps lead to your apartment. He knocked two times and waited. You opened the door not expecting to see him.

“If you want to scream at me again, you can go” 

“No, I want to apologise. Can I come in?” You stepped further into your place and he followed you. 

“I’m listening” You crossed your arms on the chest.

“I’m so sorry for how I reacted. It was wrong. I was just shocked that you’re dating a Rangers guy but it’s not an excuse. I deeply regret saying everything I said. You didn’t deserve it. I acted like a dick” He said and you felt that his words were sincere.

“You really acted like a dick” You agreed with him. 

“Please, forgive me for that. I’ll take me some time to get use to it but I want you to be happy”

“Matt makes me happy. He might be the biggest menace on the ice but off the ice, he’s the best guy around. I honestly don’t remember the last time I had so much fun with someone” You sighed. “I don’t need you to like him but at least act neutral towards him”

“Fine, but if he hurts you…” You laughed hearing it. Jack pulled you into a hug, happy that you two sorted things out. 

[hiraethwrote]

DAMN YOU, SATORU GOJO

pairing : satoru gojo x f!reader summary : against your better judgement, you choose him — time and time again, despite it not always being the smartest choice. but it just developed an understanding that you'd follow him wherever. cw : angst, sorcerer!reader, manga spoilers, canon events, profanity, character death, some arguing, reader is smaller than satoru, unspoken feelings, crying, smidget of fluff, some namecalling, creative freedom lol, one vague description hinting at longer hair, no use of y/n word count : 5.0k

Five times you had chosen Satoru when you knew you probably shouldn’t have.

You were 15, just innocent first years at Jujutsu tech and it had been such a dumb decision to let him convince you.

“Please, please, please,” Satoru begged, propped up on his knees in front of you with his hands locked together in prayer, staring at you with doe eyes and bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

You let out a sigh, turning your attention away from the overgrown child in front of you to look at Suguru, who had a self satisfied grin smeared across his face.

“Don’t look at me. I told him already I’m not going!”

“You wouldn’t let me go out at night alone, would you?” Satoru grabbed your attention again. “Who knows what lurks in the shadows out there?”

“Satoru, it’s not allowed. We have a curfew,” you tried to argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Curfew? I don’t know what that word means,” he said and shuffled closer before drilling his fingers between your forearms to forcefully grab your hand, securing it in a tight grip. “Come on! This is a matter of life and death!”

“You said you wanted to go get a late night snack?”

“Same thing! Just please come with me, I don’t want to go alone!”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic antics, taking yet another deep sigh as you weighed your options. The smart thing to do was to refuse, yank your hand out his and send him off to his dorm, like you all should be doing at this hour.

Tomorrow was yet another day of duties to attend. All four of you expected to be present bright and early for the first class starting at 8.

Not to mention what would happen if you were caught. You were sure to be in trouble then, probably having to run around the grounds of Jujutsu High, doing all sorts of ridiculous chores as punishment for who knew how long.

But you couldn’t lie — there was something nearly hypnotic about his cerulean blue eyes staring up at you, a convincing effect you found hard to fight.

You kept chewing the inside of your cheek to smother the small smirk that threatened at the corner of your lips, knowing very well he would burst with pride if he noticed. “If we get caught, I won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus.”

Satoru immediately lit up, jumping to his feet with excitement. He rushed out a hurried goodbye to Suguru, waving over his shoulder before pulling you after him and out the door.

“I’m serious, Satoru! If Yaga finds out-“

“Would you calm down,” he sighed, walking nonchalantly down the dimly lit road, fingers intertwined behind his head, seemingly not a single worry on his mind. “Yaga won’t find out! Besides, he loves me, so I’ll just work my charm and he’ll let us off the hook. Trust me.”

His head snapped towards you when you couldn’t help but scoff tauntingly at him.

“If you got something to say,” he whined childishly, staring at you with his characteristic pout.

“No, no! You're free to believe whatever you want.”

Eventually you reached the small, deserted convenient store without running into any of your superiors, so you finally let your shoulders relax when you entered the cool store. The fluorescent lights that welcomed you was a stark contrast to the darkness outside, and thus extremely unpleasant.

As Satoru strutted through the isles, you at his heels, you quickly learned that he was by no means a penny pincher, filling his basket with whatever his heart desired.

“What are you having?” He asked as he pulled a packet of biscuits from the shelf.

You quickly scanned the shelves on each side of you, “I think I’m good.”

Satoru instantly stopped in his tracks and spun around, causing you to crash right into him. He was staring big eyed at you, as if you had personally offended him.

“I just won’t accept that.”

“Really, Satoru, I’m good-“

“Come on! My treat,” he said excitedly, grinning with childlike joy.

It was only when you started school that you were reunited with Satoru, having only met briefly many, many years ago — and from what you remembered, the energetic and optimistic person in front of you was vastly different from the child you were once introduced to.

That thought, mixed with the contagious joy he embodied, made it hard to suppress any lurking smile.

“Fine, I’ll grab an ice cream or something.” The statement had his smile burn brighter, if that was even possible.

As you stood above the ice cream counter, trying to make up your mind about what you wanted, you could feel him grow impatient where he stood behind you, peaking over your shoulder. Eventually you landed on your favourite, and Satoru decided to grab one for himself as well.

Just like he had promised, he paid, happily so, and you started the walk back. All stress had left your body now, simply enjoying the moment. The ice cream threatened to melt down your hand as Satoru had planted a chronic giggle on your lips, making it impossible to try and digest your little treat.

However, the bliss was sadly short lived and the stress returned when suddenly an all too familiar figure stood in the middle of the road several feet ahead.

Yaga.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, both you and Satoru stopping in your tracks, too scared to approach your teacher any closer.

Before too long, you were both sat alone in Yaga’s office in front of his desk.

You grumpily had your arms knitted in front of you while your shoulders were raised up to your ears, foot tapping anxiously against the floor.

“Damn you, Satoru Gojo,” you said through gritted teeth. You turned to look at him, only feeling the anger grow when he was busy stuffing his face with some of the chocolates he had purchased not even an hour ago.

Without hesitation, you reached your hand out and yanked the paper bag out of his hand, a few pieces flying across the room. “Hey!” He yelped.

“Will you stop eating, you asshole?!” You nearly growled at him. “This is exactly what I feared would happen!”

He rolled his eyes at you before slumping further into his chair. “You’re too pretty to worry this much- ouch!” Mid sentence you had sent your hand swinging, slapping his upper arm. “Okay, sorry I got us in trouble! But I’m sure it’s not going to be anything too bad.”

You just kept scowling at him, feeling like a fool for falling for his silly charm. Not to mention how extra infuriating it was that he didn’t take this nearly as severely as you did, almost as if he believed it didn’t affect him at all.

He cleared his throat and sat up properly before leaning over the armrest closest to you. “I really am sorry!”

The crease between your eyebrows let up, hearing how his apology was genuine. By the way he was looking at you and the inner edges of his eyebrows angled upwards with guilt, you could tell he had never intended to be caught — he had actually believed you would simply return to school without any problem.

Shaking out of the trance, you fell back in your chair. “I’m still mad at you,” you grumbled quietly and directed your gaze straight ahead, knowing it would be harder to hold onto your frustration if you kept looking at him.

“Justified,” he sighed.

As Satoru had expected, the punishment wasn’t too bad. You simply had to clean up the kitchen after dinner for a week — and if anything, you were almost thankful because you had a lot more fun than you would ever have expected.

The time spent cleaning up ended up taking twice as long as what was scheduled, just because you both were a whole lot busier talking, laughing and in general messing around — acting like the teenagers you were rather than doing what you were supposed to. In the end, the punishment only served as the first building block in what eventually evolved into an untouchable bond.

The next time you chose Satoru when you knew you shouldn’t, was over something a lot less trivial — it was forever doomed to claw at your conscience.

You had turned 23, and life looked a lot different now than when you were teenagers. So much had happened over the years, things one couldn’t dwell on for too long because it would only pull one into a depressive spiral — and you and Satoru had grown closer as a result of it.

One of the most significant moments was when Suguru defected.

Describing the whole ordeal as traumatic didn’t even begin to cover it. If there was a way for you to forget it all, be that a deal with the devil, you’d take it just for some solace.

However, life goes on whether you want it to or not.

Your close quartet shrunk into a trio — but there was something deeper that spawned between you and Satoru. Whatever it was, it went unsaid because neither of you ever managed to find the right words to explain it. All you knew was that it had you gravitate further into each other’s orbit, out of reach from everyone else.

One was rarely seen without the other, always pairing up for missions — even when your superiors didn’t want you to.

For years you we’re inseparable, until you found yourself entangled in a whirlwind romance with a lovely man outside of jujutsu society. Before you knew it, you were swept up in all his charm.

It seemed perfect — he was nice, respectable, patient; all the qualities one looked for in a partner. You were under the impression that things were going well, which was why you were shocked when he sprung the ultimatum on you.

“Me or him?”

Your jaw kept opening and closing at a loss for words, sitting on the edge of the couch with your hands pressed between your thighs. You could tell this was something that had been heavy on his mind for a long time based on the sadness that harboured in his eyes, standing in front of you, a shell of the person you knew.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, seeing how his shoulders sank. And when he spoke again, his voice was low and determined, “I won’t ask again. Me or him?”

“Him.”

The word slipped out of you like a quiet squeak. Your answer had come on pure instinct, like every part of you knew there was no other option.

You prepared yourself for yelling and shouting, an endless stream of ‘how could you?’. But it never came.

Instead his posture relaxed. He huffed what you thought was supposed to be a lighthearted laugh before he took a seat next to you.

“Damn you, Satoru Gojo,” he breathed.

You didn’t know what else to do than stare at him dumbfounded, “I’m sorry,” you stuttered.

“Don’t be,” he turned to you with a sad smile painting his lips. “I think I kinda always knew.” Again, he let out a sound you thought was supposed to be a laugh but it just didn’t quite get there as he placed a hand on your knee. “But I needed to hear you say it.”

“No, I am really sorry!” You reinforced, placing your hand on top of his.

“You really don’t need to explain,” he flipped his hand to quietly intertwine his fingers with yours — one last moment of intimacy. “What the two of you have-“ cutting himself off, he tried searching for the right words to describe whatever it was you and Satoru had. You clearly weren’t the only one struggling to put the importance of your relationship into words. “I’ll never be able to compete with that. So don’t be sorry.”

You mirrored his melancholy smile and gave his hand a squeeze.

For another thirty minutes you sat there and talked, reminiscing of good times — there were quite a few, you both agreed. But it was clear this couldn’t continue any further. So you gave him one last hug and left.

You took your time walking back to the grounds of Jujutsu tech, your head heavy with churning thoughts.

When you had driven your brain exhausted with these new revelations, you found yourself craving a little snack before heading to bed, b-lining for the kitchen first thing — your heart skipped a beat when you were met with Satoru stood with his head in the fridge, peaking out to meet your gaze when he felt your presence enter the room.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” you scoffed at him, throwing your bag on the kitchen isle before jumping up on it.

“Weren’t you supposed to be with-“ he waved his hand about, “whatever-his-name-is tonight?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “We broke up, actually.”

Satoru very abruptly stopped searching for whatever he was looking for, closing the door to the fridge and leaned up against it. “I’m sorry.” You simply shrugged in response. “What happened?”

“Uhm-“ how were you supposed to tell him that he was the reason for your breakup? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

Now having been made aware of the fact, it became clear to you that you and Satoru were dancing on a fine line — more than friends, but not quite lovers. An unspoken thing that one could feel dip into a romance. But you didn’t want to be the one to bring attention to it and break the illusion that there was nothing there. That would only create unnecessary pressure to what was essentially a nonexistent issue.

“Just didn’t work out,” you sighed.

“His loss,” he smirked — and there it was again, that tension that was impossible to label, traveling between you. It suddenly became very clear why your ex had proposed the ultimatum in the first place. “But you’re okay?”

For a second you just looked at Satoru, a content smile stretching across your face as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good! Then I can come clean and say I never liked the guy,” he said and returned to rummaging the fridge.

“Oh, believe me, I know!”

“What do you mean you know?” His voice muffled in the fridge in front of him.

“You thought you were subtle?” You teased.

He just peaked a look at you over his shoulder, his eyes full of mischief, and even though it was hidden behind his arm, you know he was smiling with satisfaction.

The fourth time around, you were 28 years old and you had no clue how this choice would unfold itself.

“You have to trust me on this!” He begged, and even through his blindfolds you could feel his pleading eyes drill into you.

“Satoru, I don’t know.” To say you were reluctant was an understatement, seeing this choice venture down a handful of potentially dangerous routes.

“You’ve always agreed with me that the higher ups don’t have a single clue what they're doing. They’re too scared to see the chance we have here.”

You only sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning up against the wall behind you. Sure, there was a long list of descriptive words you’d use for the higher ups before even the first positive one would pop up, but this case was severe enough to actually be able to see their perspective.

“You trusted me with Yuta, now I need you to trust me with this too!”

“You cannot begin to compare these two cases!” You scoffed. “Yuta didn’t have the literal king of curses inside him! You too have to see how these are wildly different scenarios?”

The hypothetical question hung in the air as he mirrored your position against the opposite side of the hallway.

The list of consequences the higher ups had presented was long — excruciatingly long. You’d felt like an idiot stood behind Satoru as he argued and argued, while you kept your lips sealed, witnessing the powerful individuals in front you discuss so aggressively you swore you could feel the temperature rise.

Your silence definitely took them by surprise, so used to you always taking Satoru’s side without question. But this time around, you didn’t see it as black and white as you usually did.

“I’ve looked at this from every angle, and I believe this could work.” Worry pinched your eyebrows together, never letting your eyes leave the strong sorcerer in front of you, who now looked more timid than you’d seen him in years. “And should the worst happen, I’ll stop it! I promise.”

A lump formed in your throat as what you believed was mostly your concern spawned in your mind.

Everyone else saw the worst scenario being Ryomen Sukuna regaining physical footage in the real world, and the earth’s strongest sorcerer wouldn’t be able to stop it and be eliminated in the process.

Your worst scenario was losing Satoru.

“He’s just a kid,” he continued to plead.

Letting out a deep sigh, your head fell forwards to hide how your eyes had turned glossy. “Damn you, Satoru Gojo.”

“So you trust me?”

You nodded slowly as you kept your head directed at your feet. “I trust you. You know I do.”

A strange and eerie, though somehow also comfortable silence filled the empty hallway. You just hoped you wouldn’t end up regretting this.

As you could feel an oncoming headache sneak up, you closed your eyes and slowly began to rub circles on your temples, hoping the faint agony would release. It had truly been a few stressful days.

You let out a small whimper of relief as strong fingers placed themselves on your temples, causing your own hands to lazily fall to your sides.

You just enjoyed the moment, letting Satoru soothe you for minute before muttering a quiet “thank you.”

“Feel better?” He asked, low enough so it was only audible to you.

The exhaustion had seemed to grow permanent in your body, only able to slightly lift your shoulders in a small shrug you weren’t even sure he saw. “Don’t know, but it’s nice,” you smiled weakly.

“Feel like you’ve had more and more of these headaches.”

“These are trying times,” you attempted to lighten the mood by the small quirk in your voice, but it wasn’t as successful as you’d hoped for when he never responded with an anticipated chuckle.

“I don’t like it.” His voice came out a little rough, fingers still moving in comforting circles on each side of your face.

“I’ll be okay,” you sighed.

Carefully you tilted your head upwards, a little sad the black cloth around his head blocked direct eye contact to be made, even though you knew they were looking right at you. You lifted your hands again, tenderly placing them on top of his big ones, making him stop massaging you.

“Promise me-“ a small spark of fear halted your sentence for a second. “Promise me I won’t regret this.”

His right palm flattened against your cheek. “I promise.”

The fifth time you chose him took place not many months after the choice regarding Yuji Itadori — but not without a heated discussion.

“I can’t believe you went as far as set a date, without even talking to me!” You shouted at him, anger having driven you to stand so close to him you could feel his body heat radiate off of him.

“I’m sorry, but it was the best decision to make in that moment.” He fired back, but his voice possessed a tenderness yours lacked. “This gives us a month to prepare.”

“No!”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no,” you said, voice cracking at the end. “I won’t allow it.”

His head fell back in frustration, “this is our chance to end this!”

“I don’t care, it’s too risky! We’ll find another way to stop Sukuna.”

“There is no other way!” He said, pronouncing every word very clearly.

You licked your lips, a shaky breath exhaled through your nose as you fought off tears. “What about Megumi!?”

“This is how we save him,” he argued back.

“I said no. It’s just too dangerous!”

Slowly but surely you felt yourself losing grip on your sanity, all the death and suffering you’d all been through that had lead up to this moment, catching up with you and presenting you with yet another dilemma.

You ran your fingers through your hair, tugging at your roots. “I just need you to trust me! One more time-“

“Damn you, Satoru Gojo!” You sobbed, cutting him off before he was able to finish his sentence. “I won’t lose you!”

You drew a sharp breath to choke back the bubbling sobs, shoulders bouncing as you sniffled, the sound muting the conversation instantly.

His lips parted with a sad sigh, letting his muscles rest as he now saw you were not in a position to receive any hard arguments. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“Take your blindfolds off.”

Softly he spoke your name.

“Take your blindfolds off!” You repeated with a raised tone. “I want you to look me right in the eyes as you give me your word!”

With two fingers he hooked a hold of the dark fabric, and with one swift motion he did as you demanded. His tufts of snow white hair falling to cover his forehead as his eyes stared right into yours.

His gaze flittered between your eyes, causing your hands to fall at your side. The intensity in his crystal pools caused your chin to quiver, salty tears leaving wet trails down your cheeks.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

The words left his mouth, and your face scrunched together with sorrow, shutting your eyes as the waterfalls continued. Hesitatingly, you nodded your head so shyly you hoped the movement was faint enough for him not to notice it — Satoru quickly placed a hand on each side of your jaw and you felt his hair tickle you softly before resting his forehead against yours.

“You won’t lose me,” he reassured you, “not ever.” You pulled back, wanting to look in his eyes again. “I’m not the strongest for nothing.”

You wished you could spare him even just a small chuckle, but his attempt to change the atmosphere for the better was doomed useless. If anything, it only made it worse — reminding you of the burden placed on him by powers he hadn’t chosen for himself.

“Just make sure to take use of that,” you whispered, his thump wiping away one of your silent tears.

“I will.”

You opened your mouth, faint sounds coming out as you were in an internal discussion of whether you should say what rested on your heart or not — “there’s still things for us to do. You and me.”

It was his time to slowly nod along in agreement, confirming what had gone unsaid for so many years without taking use of the actual words. “I know.”

The chilly wind was slowly blowing through your hair, your arms wrapped around yourself more in an attempt to hold yourself together rather than to keep yourself warm.

It seemed only fitting the skies were grey, the sun trapped between layers of dark clouds — because all brightness had left the world when Satoru did.

You looked down at the simple headstone, engraved with his name, his birthday and his death day, the one you had insisted needed to be placed in the peaceful backyard of Jujutsu high.

Then you started to think back at the first time you chose Satoru Gojo — had you only known then how much pain you would have spared yourself if you had chosen differently.

The earth had orbited the sun many times since then, when he could only be labelled a stranger. Not even ten years old when you spotted a kid in your local playground, all in his lonesome as he let the tips of his shoes slowly wiggle him back and forth on the swing-set.

Now, when your entire future looked nothing but dark and gloomy, you wished you’d listened to your initial instincts and just continued the trip home. He was none of your concern, no matter how lonely he looked.

But that was just it — you felt bad. A kid wasn’t supposed to be alone in the playground, especially a kid who seemed in desperate need of a company.

A little annoyed with yourself, you let out a frustrated huff before letting your bike tip over and strut towards the boy sitting with his back facing you.

“Hi there!” You said loud and clear. He stopped staring at the gravel, jumping off the swing-set and quickly spinning around to look at you, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Whoa-“

Once eye contact was made, you felt it — he was like you. You didn’t know much about the jujutsu world, or your powers for that matter, at this time. All you knew was that there was something about you that made you different. Special.

And the kid staring back at you was part of that too. Though you had no idea to what degree.

“Who are you?” The innocent question stumbling out of you with awe only possessed by a child.

For a second it looked as if he didn’t want to answer, kicking a small rock in front of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo,” he mumbled.

You only blinked at him, trying to understand why he said his name like that — like you were supposed to know who he was.

“Nice to meet you, Satoru Gojo,” you recited the pleasantries your parents had thought you before telling him your own name. “You’re like me, aren’t ya?”

He narrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘like you’?”

“Special! That’s what my mom says at least.”

He just lifted his shoulders in a shrug, “I guess.” Satoru really didn’t like how the word left you like a compliment. Because Satoru knew he was special. He’d been told so for as long as he could remember. And at ten, he wanted nothing else than to be ordinary.

“I’ve never met someone like me before. At least that I know of.”

Satoru blinked at you, the crease between his eyebrows narrowing further in confusion. You seemed absolutely clueless about the world you truly belonged in, and he envied the ignorance. “Now you have.”

“What are you doing here all alone?” You tucked your arms behind your back, as you began to continuously shift your weight from your heels to your toes, and to your heels again.

Again he shrugged. “Having fun.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re having much fun.”

A frown settled on his entire face, taken aback by your blatant honesty. “Well, it is,” he argued stubbornly, retracting his hands from the pocket and crossing them in front of him.

“Can I join?” You asked, head tilting to the side. Again you surprised him, but this time it was a more delightful one.

“Okay,” he stuttered, waiting for you to come closer and take the lead in whatever it was you considered to be fun.

And you did — happily so. You both lost complete track of time. Especially Satoru, who couldn’t remember ever really playing with another kid like this.

After nearly two hours, you glanced at the small watch wrapped around your wrist. “Darn!” You exclaimed. “I was supposed to be home by now.” You scattered to your feet, wiping off the gravel dust that was coating your knees and ran back to your bike. You only got halfway there before Satoru called your name.

“Will I see you again?” He looked nearly sad as the innocent question was spoken.

A toothy grin greeted him in return. “Yes, I’m sure of it!”

Nervously he fidgeted with his fingers. “How do you know?”

Never letting your smile waver, you made up your mind right then and there. “I’ll find you again. I promise.”

That was the last thing you said to him before riding off.

Whatever it was, something connected you to that strange boy that day and you knew, someday in the future, you would follow him wherever he went.

Several times a month you would think of the promise you made to Satoru, his name appearing in your dreams every once in a while, making sure you wouldn’t forget about him.

Five years later you were finally reunited, now a lot more familiar with the world you belonged to.

He had recognised you immediately. You could tell by the peaceful smile he served you with, watching how some of the stress he desperately tried to suppress, simply disappeared from his body.

“Hi there!” He greeted you, just like how you had captured his attention when you were kids. That was the only thing you ever acknowledged of your adolescent encounter, letting it stay a holy secret only in the memory of you and Satoru.

That way no one could touch it — no one could taint it.

“Damn you, Satoru Gojo,” you sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. “You and your stupid promises!”

Taking a few steps forwards, kneeling down in front of the stone, you let your fingers trail each letter of his name.

“I think I’ll curse you forever for that,” tilting your gaze down at the wittered flowers you had planted when he was first buried. “We were supposed to have more time you and I.”

You wrapped your arms around your bent knees, sitting much like a child who had their laser focus on something in front of them would, gaslighting yourself into thinking your own embrace made you feel better — in reality, you wished it was Satoru’s arms that enveloped you.

“But I’m choosing to believe I’ll find you again,” a whispered promise, the words floating along with the wind to a place you hoped he would hear them.

That was the sixth and final time you chose Satoru Gojo.

author's note : aaaah can yall believe this took me less than a week???? and i am kinda happy with it?? the hell is happening. anyways, in my satoru feels lately

tags (open — link to taglist form) : @sad-darksoul . @gdamnackerman . @madaqueue . @toadba . @harperluvgojo . @nishislcve . @ichore . @sugurunugget . @megapteraurelia . @loveyislost

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[shizuturnspages]

Brain rot scenario! :D

So I read your yandere genshin men with traveler reader. Imagine if Reader asked the Yandere to go with them? Reader has grown very close with them and wants the Yandere to see the stars and galaxies with them?

Do you think they'll agree to join them or not? I think yandere's like Kaveh, Kabukimono, Aether, Thoma, and probably Tighnari would agree to join the reader. But I'm not sure. Who do you think will agree?

YESS brain rot activated. This is such a beautiful twist on the concept too—like, the usually detached, long-lived reader finally getting attached and choosing someone to travel with?? Ugh, poetic.

Here's how I see it going with the ones you mentioned:

Kaveh

YES. Absolutely. Without hesitation. He’s been dreaming of escape, of freedom, of a life not tied down by debts and regret.

He says yes before you even finish the question. His heart's already halfway in your hands, and the idea of being apart again? No. Never. He romanticises it instantly—travelling the cosmos with you, sketching alien architecture, naming stars after you. “If I go with you, will you promise I’ll be the one who builds your home wherever we land next?”

Kabukimono

He’s suspicious at first. "Why would you want me to go?" he’ll ask, arms crossed, bristling. You’ll have to convince him that you’re not leaving him behind—that you want him to see your world, the endless stretch of galaxies, the beauty you couldn’t share with anyone else until now. Once he believes it’s real? That you’re real? That you’re not going to disappear like everyone else? He’s yours. Quietly devoted. Silently terrified. "If you leave without me again, I’ll tear the sky open until I find you."

Aether

Absolutely.

He knows what it means to travel. He gets your heart. He’s seen loss, wandered the stars, touched other skies. He might even tear up when you ask him, because he’s never had someone ask him to go somewhere, not since Lumine. It’s always been him chasing. But you—you're offering him a home between galaxies. He’ll follow you through black holes and burning suns.

Thoma

Yes, but it would break him a little first.

He loves Inazuma and is so deeply rooted there… but if you asked him, genuinely, he’d put aside his loyalty to follow love.

He’ll leave with only a little hesitation, making sure someone trustworthy watches over the Kamisato estate first. Then he’s by your side, hand in yours, gentle and loyal as ever. He’s the one who’ll make sure you eat space rations and have a warm coat on a freezing planet. A domestic king in the void.

Tighnari

Yes, eventually.

He takes the longest to agree, but not because he doesn't want to—it's because he needs to understand what this means. His science brain goes wild trying to make sense of you and your journey.

"And the atmospheric conditions of your next destination? And food? Water? Can my body even—" but then you smile. And he stops talking. “… Forget the logistics. If I stay behind, I’ll regret it forever.” He's surprisingly sentimental beneath the logic. He won't say it out loud, but he’d follow you into a supernova if it meant he wouldn’t lose you.

He sees it as a chance to study new ecosystems and stay with you. A double win. You’re his starlit obsession, after all.

[nightscythe]

Primarchs when you break their heart?

interpreted as you leaving/breaking up with them, if there was another way of breaking their heart (idk.. you cheat on them?) you wanted, let me know. but i know no one would be stupid enough to cheat on a primarch.

pre-heresy, little possessive tendencies // you can pick the reason you’re leaving them and breaking their heart. it better be worth it, though. not all of them will let you walk away from that. 

lion: he scoffs when you tell him. runs his fingers through his hair as you stutter over excuses and try to stay strong when he’s standing right there with a poise you’d never match. why did you make me believe everything was fine? he questions, taking a step closer to you. he keeps his hands behind his back, clasped firmly together because he knew they’d be shaking if he let them fall to his sides. why did you not tell me before tonight? why did you leave it to get to this point and make me think there was still… love between us? he watches you for an answer, but it never comes. his chest is heaving, there’s a scowl on his face he can’t displace. he chooses to leave, walking away from you as the fire rages in his heart. not another word is heard from him, just the sound of his breaking everything around him, compensating for the feeling running deep into his soul.

fulgrim: his smile begins to fade as he reads the letter you’d left for him. he reads it once. then again, slower, stopping after every sentence. a perfectly created piece to destroy him from the inside out. i don’t have the strength to tell you in person, because you’d remind me of why i loved you so much, he recounts from the letter, tears falling from the corner of his eyes. is that not a sign that you shouldn’t leave me? is that not your mind telling you that this was a mistake? he carefully folds the letter back how you’d left it, bringing it to his lips just once and inhaling to catch the last drops of your scent that remained. i love you, he asserts, walking the path you would have followed whenever you did leave. he can hear your voice in his head, feel your touch on his skin. i don’t think i could ever stop loving you, darling, especially if you can’t even tell me to my face that you’re going. 

perty: he laughed at first, a rarity already, something he’d just used as a disguise for how he really felt beneath the surface. he was holding back his true feelings, a flurry of desolation, the rage that was building which he knew would be uncontrollable after a short amount of time. fine, he finally says, standing from where he’s sat across from you, turning to face the other way. he’s afraid he’d just fall apart if he met your eyes. if you didn’t harbour any feelings for me, that would have been better. he’s sorting through eventualities, how he might get you to stay, but he can’t find a response he deems worthy of having you stay. was i the only one committed, who meant every word? he turns back to you with narrowed eyes. go, do as you wish. and when you do, the table is thrown. everything in his possession that reminded him of you is destroyed. 

khan: he’s sat down, looking up to you from his position as your words sit with him for longer than he should have allowed. he feels worse for not realising he was doing this to you, causing you to feel this way without any meaning or consideration. tell me what i did, he petitions with the usual strength in his voice starting to fade, tell me how i make sure this doesn’t happen again. he searches for a sign that he’d get the chance to try again, the sinking feeling in his stomach more apparent as he utters his final words. i don’t want to hurt anyone… else. he hates himself for letting it progress to this point already. he’ll listen, he’ll learn, and maybe you’ll give him the opportunity to try again, but until then he’d spend moment on his own trapped in the quiet thoughts of sadness and wonder. 

leman: it was always going to be emotional. he’s furious, but never outwardly to you, forcing himself to be quiet as the crack deepens and he realises that this is all real. that’s it? he questions, resisting every urge to drop to his knees and beg you to take it back. he’d change, he’d do anything, but he didn’t think existing without you was possible anymore. you’re walking away, without allowing me a chance? without letting me prove to you that you are most important to me? he’s snarling as you leave, he’s hiding his hurt behind the pitiful aggression, a shield to what he felt deep down. no one will ever love you like me. when you realise that, don’t come back. it’s a lie, he’d let you back without needing to consider it, but he needed you to feel hurt too. don’t ever come back to me. 

dorn: he’s nodding along with everything you’re saying, stoicism replacing the soft smile he would once carry around you. but when you stop, when everything you needed to tell his out in the open, he looks lost. his hands are flat on the table and his gaze shifts between you and the four walls around you. he doesn’t object to you leaving, he tries to tell you, i only needed to love you, before you leave but the words never go further than his mind. he can feel you there with him still, but as it starts to fade, as your warmth is no longer beside him, every logical part of his starts to fade too. i don’t know what to do, he admits after a few silent minutes without you there, i don’t know how i’m supposed to continue without you.  

curze: he can’t admit his feelings to you, even as you leave him. but you never really leave him. he follows you, always in the shadows and watching your life move on without him being part of it. it’s a bittersweetness, seeing you smile without him, silently observing your affection for him replaced with other emotions. not that he’d ever allow another to take his place, no, you’d be back by his side eventually. he saw that. until then, he never allows himself to rest. only gives himself the necessities to keep himself alive and somewhat sane as the stillness without you settles in deeper. i forgot that life was so silent without you, he’d confess one night, sat alone in the darkness of the night, i forgot what it was like to not feel a thing. 

sanguinius: he could feel it before it happened. he held you so gently for weeks, treating you like the most fragile thing in existence. the last time he kissed you, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, the tension snapping inside as he felt something different with you. do you know how much i love you? he asks. everything is committed to memory. your touch, taste, smell, even how you’d stood a little further from you each day since he felt the change. i’ll never love anyone as much as you. i don’t think anyone could love another as much as i love you. and when you finally leave him, he’s empty. he can’t even smile, there’s no strength left in him. being allowed to love you was worth it. even if it wasn’t forever. he’d have done anything to make it forever, though. 

ferrus: everything reminds him of you. he’d acknowledged your words when you told him, felt the way his soul was torn apart and said nothing to you, only watching as you left and having someone in place to report back to him that you were safe and well frequently. his smile would never come again, not in the way you made it appear. he spends far too much time around the things he made for you, holding gifts for you he was never able to provide you with, wondering if there would ever be a chance to give them back to you. he feels foolish for not saying anything to you before you left, but even more so about how many times he opens each door envisioning you behind them, or checking to see if anyone had heard from you. i was too late, he says to himself one night, watching the horizon and seeing your light in each star, i wasn’t enough. 

angron: you’d expected it to be worse when you told him, but nothing was smashed, nothing broken or damaged. just one final sentence that would live with you forever. you said you’d always be with me. he’d never let go of those words, either. believed them for everything that his love was worth, felt the anchor that your words had whenever he really felt that he couldn’t do this anymore. he doesn’t argue with you, he’d seemed emotionless when you left. carried on his day, never quiet there whenever anyone spoke to him. but that night, the first he spends without you, he’s knelt beside the bed you spent each night in, clutching your pillow and the sheets you slept on as though you were there too, as though he can’t allow himself to feel more than that. you promised you’d always be there. you promised. 

rob: he seemed accepting. logical. like he may have understood your position and really considered what you were trying to say. his eyes never left yours, his jaw never unclenched. silently considering and rationalising every word you’d spoken until it finally hits him. who else will see me? he asks. it’s not directed for you to answer, he just doesn’t know what to think. his voice breaks as he continues. who else will speak with me for who i am, rather than what i am? he looks at your hand but never reaches for it. he won’t try to change your mind, he won’t tell you that this is wrong and you need to reconsider, its your choice and he’d live with it, but the weight of abandonment had truly struck him all at once. please don’t go, he voices, quiet enough that you could have missed it, please don’t leave me like this. 

morty: you look back at him as you reach the door. he’d not said a word, he’d hidden behind a stubborn veil and waited for you to finally tell him you’d changed your mind, that this was all a mistake, like he knew it was. but when the door opens, any hope that lived on in his mind fades. you truly are going to leave me, he scoffs, bottom lip trembling as his fists clench harder at his side, how could you tell me you cared about me? it wouldn’t matter that you did care about him, he’d see this as the ultimate betrayal. he’d never have left, even if he risked himself to be with you, even if it meant the entire world. you leaving is proof you never cared about me. not at all. he turns from you when he feels his voice beginning to crack. he couldn’t comprehend which emotion took precedence; they were all hitting at once. go. leave me. but never think for a second that you truly loved me if you were able to leave so easily. 

magnus: he has his hand around yours. he’s not sure what it might bring him, how it may comfort him through a pain bigger than anything else he had felt, but it's something – a way to hold onto you a little longer. tell me that this, us, it never meant anything, he takes a step closer to you as he speaks, never raising his voice, tell me what i did, tell me what i can do, tell me how to fix this. his chest hurts. the corners of his mind sting. he can’t keep a coherent thought as he reaches for every crevice in the universe to find a trace of answers to his questions. i’ll never stop loving you, he confesses, holding your hand tighter, afraid to let go in case he could have one more chance. i always saw our future. you were always there. the future… it doesn’t lie. it’s always going to be you.

horus: he won’t look at you. one arm is crossed over his chest, the other has a hand resting over his jaw and chin. you’re not sorry, he finally snaps, still facing away from you. you can’t be sorry. do you think my love isn’t real? that i don’t feel things just as you do? you’re not sorry for this. he looks over his shoulder, brows etched together. you can see his arms shaking, pure emotions cascading through him. he doesn’t dismiss you, doesn’t come any closer. i gave you everything, he chides, i would have given you the entire world. but you? he laughs. there’s hostility, disbelief, dejection in every sound. you gave up. you never spoke to me. never tried. i’m no longer convenient to you, this isn’t easy for you. he looks back at you fully now, half expecting you to have left. was it too hard to just try harder, for me? for everything we’ve done together?

lorgar: defiance, in his eyes, was exceptional. disobeying him, ignoring him, but most importantly leaving him, they were all rarities he’d never been prepared for. as you did all of those things, as you made him feel smaller than anything else ever had done and cemented it with the softest kiss on his cheek before walking away from him, forever, he was frozen. the words would be etched into his soul for the rest of eternity. he can’t bring himself to follow you. turn around, he breathes, words never loud enough for you to have heard, tell me it’s a lie. turn around. please, turn back to me. please. even after you’ve gone, passed through a door he’d never bring himself to walk through again, he hasn’t moved. he falls to his knees, the stone beneath cracking, his palms upwards on his thighs as he feels the emptiness inside start to become more apparent. 

vulkan: he’s quiet. so, so quiet. he’d listened to every word, his hands slipping away from yours with each word mentioned to him, eyes never quite reaching yours after he realised what you were trying to tell him. you should have told me, he finally says, expression softened when he looks to you. he’s not angry. he’s not annoyed. he’s in pain, aching inside. we could have tried. i could have tried harder and made this work. he'd never stop caring about you. even in the moment after you’ve shattered his heart, he's still helping you, telling his sons to take you wherever you needed, to make sure you’re safe wherever you go. he’ll never let you go, but he’d give you anything you wanted, even if that was space. just take care of yourself, make sure you’re well. that’s all i ask. 

corvus: you’re sitting across from him, choosing to stay when you shouldn’t. you can feel the static in the air from his silent ire burning beneath. when he finally looks up to you, his eyes shine with unshed tears, his lips pulled taut into a line. you told me forever, he balks, searching for something more in your eyes. you can’t comfort him, you can’t try to offer him kindness – it wasn’t what he needed. it’s not what he could bear. he laughs, bitterness wrought beneath every sound, when you try to reach for him, i wanted forever, don’t try to take it back now, don’t offer me an apology for something intentional. he’d let you go, but not really. he carries on like nothing changed, like one day he’ll feel you with him again. waiting each night for you, watching doors like you may come through them. but you never do. 

alpharius: you had left a message for him on the desk he’d always find his way to at some point in the day. if you’d just spoken to him, he’d have turned your words into something you didn’t mean and convince you that there was nothing wrong in the first place. he reads the page over and over, holding it in his hands like the last fragment of you that existed. when his eyes finally shift away from your words, he stares forward, reaches into the very depths of his mind for any trace of you. you wouldn’t have lied to me, he remarks, crushing the note in his hand, you couldn’t lie to me about everything between us. his mind creates a timeline, a reason without him that meant you had to leave him; there was no other possible explanation to him. i know how much you love me. don’t worry. i’ll find you soon. we can fix this. you’ll see. 

writing about someone leaving magnus genuinely hurts my heart in ways i can't describe. same with fulgrim and sanguinius. probs why they are the candidates for my yandere au.

[retroaria]

hey! I'm not really into nsfw stuff- sooo would you like to do something soft with reo? 😭 like, idk, him as a husband or father so with a family? THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗

✮⋆˙ domestic reo headcanons ✮⋆˙

a/n: this is so brain rotted i can’t even lie i think reo is just so easy to romanticize. pure fluff.

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy !! - aria 💜 | •

✮ I actually love this because i headcanon that reo would be a great dad :D at the very least he’d be extremely supportive of whatever his children wanted to do in their lives. He wouldn’t force them to follow in his footsteps like his father and he’d use whatever devices he could to ensure they can comfortably follow the path they choose.

✮ Would post about all his children’s accomplishments, or if you guys didn’t feel comfortable posting the kids he’d still take any chance to tell everyone about it - even his teammates who literally don’t care that his son got the highest score on the spelling test (they’re happy for him though). He secretly enjoys scrapbooking for his kids but they’re “your books” and he “just helps you with it sometimes”. (he’s the one who took almost all the pictures and saved every piece of paper his kid has ever drawn on)

✮ Reo is a charming husband, so charming and sweet it’s hard to be mad at him. He’s a bit lacking in cleaning/caretaking capabilities when it comes to the home but he puts in the effort??? He tries his best and if he does a bad job he always makes it up to you one way or another. In all honesty, he’s probably already hired people to do that (forgot this man is inheriting a multi millionaire dollar corporation).

✮ Reo is however very good at taking care of children. Once he has a clear grasp of their needs, he finds it to be really enjoyable and fulfilling. He takes a lot of pride in whatever happiness and comfort he can bring to his kids. He hates the sound of his babies crying, not because it’s annoying (though he complains about that too) but because it genuinely hurts his soul. He can be a bit too worrisome about it sometimes - he’s totally the type of person to look up his child’s symptoms and freak out over seeing all the worst case scenarios.

✮ The one thing that reo particularly excels at is taking care of you when you’re sick. He can always tell when you’re not feeling your best and he immediately harps on you. He doesn’t know how to cook very well but he knows how to make a few different kinds of warm foods to fill your stomach and give you a little energy. He’d absolutely refuse to stay away from you (unless it was a seriously contagious illness or if you guys had a baby that could’ve gotten sick). Doesn’t care if you’re sneezing and coughing and wheezing, he wants to feed you and hold you and kiss your hot head until it cools down and everything is better again. His goal is always to make sure you get better as soon as possible and won’t let you do anything but rest and relax until then.

✮ Reo is an incredible gift giver! I’ve certainly mentioned this in another hc post, but he is always out and about buying you little things that remind him of you. If you guys have a kid that’s just more gifts he’ll have to get and the thought of that honestly excites him.

✮ Anything can happen but…reo with a daughter…guys….

✮ he would be the sweetest girl dad! would do everything in his power to make her believe she’s an actual princess and he’s just one of her loyal servants. Spoils her rotten and doesn’t feel bad about it.

✮ You’d have to explain to him how this could negatively affect your daughter and it would break his heart. He’d go into theatrics trying to refute it because “What do you mean I can’t let her have everything she wants?” and “What if she cries? You want me to make my daughter cry?” he gets it eventually, but remains reluctant lol.

✮ He’d love playing sports with his kids. Would try to get them into soccer but if they end up liking another sport he’s still just as hype. Isn’t initially familiar with the concept of letting the kids win but soon realized he has to level with the speed of their little legs.

✮ I don’t have any specific hc’s for him as a boy dad but he’d be just as great of course - he’d make sure his son sees how women should be treated based on how he treats you!

✮ If he could find a way to make you the total world ruler he would because he truly believes you’re the most capable person. He’s the kind of husband who lets you run things for the most part but is always there to step in when you need a break or if you just want him by your side. Would call for an emergency flight back home from whatever country he’s training in just because you said you didn’t wanna go to parent teacher night alone.

✮ He loves doing mundane tasks with you, but always tries to “make it a bit more fun” as he says - which basically means he puts away the clothes you fold while you listen to him crack really bad jokes at you, gossip about his teammates, or try to sing and serenade you with his MANY playlists he’s made dedicated to you. On days you both have nothing going on he follows you around the house like a lost puppy, which is slightly annoying but it also means you have four hands to do stuff because he’s a participator above all else.

✮ Reo always makes sure to show his appreciation for how hard you work whether it’s at your job, taking care of the kids/house, or both. He takes time alone with you very seriously, even as your lives get busier and your family grows he always makes sure there’s time for the two of you to just be together and be in love. Always jokes about how you guys need to keep the romance going. He has small romantic gestures that he indulges you in throughout the day: kissing you on the cheek, brushing your hair out of your face/tying it back for you if you if you need (taking his hair tie out for you to use), hugging you a little tighter just before you get up, running a bath for the both of you, massaging your shoulders while you talk.

to be fully honest with you guys, i have never in my life wanted to have kids so it was a bit hard for me to imagine what being happy with children would be like LMAO but alas i did my best. stay safe and stay cool. - aria :3

[futuremrscameron]

Parents Rafe and Bahamas reader, please! 😭

a/n: i ended chronicling their journey through/post pregnancy i hope you mind

bahamian!reader and rafe as parents🧑‍🧑‍🧒🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

first trimester (1-3 months)

bahamian!reader and rafe do not use condoms, just lube, prep, and vibes so it wasn’t a huge surprise when they saw those two pink lines

it’s hard to say who was more excited, he’s always wanted a family of his own and she loves kids and rafe so that’s literally her dream come true

rafe is worried he’ll be just like his dad or he’ll screw up and no matter how many times bahamian!reader reassures him he can’t shake the feeling that it’s inevitable

bahamian!reader and rafe having arguments over baby names. he thinks he should choose the name if it’s a boy and she should choose if it’s a girl. she tells him to shove it which leads to more arguing. they eventually decide to brainstorm together and pick a name they both agree on

bahamian!reader's morning sickness comes in waves, she'll be fine for three to five says and suddenly she's vomiting for days on end. during these times rafe stays home and watches over her, cooking, rubbing her back as she spews acid, tying her hair back/up, and running a washcloth under the water before placing it on her head

the first person that finds out is wheezie. they didn’t tell her, she was eavesdropping overheard them talking about the baby. she was every excited to be an aunt and asked if the baby has kicked yet. rafe calls her an idiot and bahamian!reader slaps his shaved head

bahamian!reader’s siblings are the next to find out. she calls her siblings over zoom to give them the big news and their reactions range from shocked, confused, and excited. the call turns into two hours of parenting advice that she did eyes because she basically raise them all, making plans for a baby shower, and trying to book tickets to obx

bahamian!reader and rafe buy all the parenting beginner books they can get their hands on. they wanna be ready for anything even though they know that’s impossible they’re excited but scared they don’t wanna fuck the kid up

rafe wants to know the gender but she doesn’t care which causes another argument that ends in them sitting down and having a mini therapy session

rafe tells bahamian!reader he wants a son to undo what his father did to him and to be a better father than he was. she assures him that won’t happen and that he’s a different man

rafe takes so many notes during doctor visits and side eyes the doctors every time they touch her stomach or she winced at the cold jelly

bahamian!reader and rafe cried when they saw their baby on the sonogram. rafe took a picture and sent it to the gc named ‘operation boss baby/storks’ by bahamian!reader

topper and kelce are the next people to find out because rafe is very proud of himself and his hard work like they weren’t fucking raw. they’re shocked but excited to be uncles and congratulate him and bahamian!reader. they argue over who’s going to be the godfather. rafe likes watching them fight so he doesn’t immediately tell them it’ll be probably be both of them and bahamian!reader’s brothers

sarah finds out after bumping into bahamian!reader at a flea market and sees her bargaining with the vendor for a box of fruits and veggies. she talks about needing to eat healthy while subconsciously rubbing her belly and sarah puts two and two together. she asks sooooo many questions, how long have the known, who was the first person they told, how could wheezie keep this from her, have they been to a doctor, how far along is she, do they know the gender?

bahamian!reader shows sarah the sonogram and she sobs because it’s so tiny and she can’t believe that’s her niece? nephew? she doesn’t care she loves it already

bahamian!reader tells rafe that sarah knows but before he can spiral she tells him they need to figure their shit out before the baby comes cause she wants all its aunts to be part of their life. when he calms down she tells him that sarah’s been added to the group chat

bahamian!reader's stops at barry's to make sure he hasn't been selling to rafe and vomits in his toilet while trying to intimidate him. he immediately knows she's pregnant and makes her some tea that helped his sister when she was pregnant. rafe sees her location and freaks out expecting the worst but when he kicks in the door he sees the two eating ice cream and watching old telenovelas

bahamian!reader makes him apologize and promise to replace barry's door

bahamian!reader and rafe agree that staying at tanneyhill is not optimal

rose is the last of the camerons to find out. she overheard wheezie talking to someone on the phone and thought it was sarah but it was actually bahamian!reader who was telling her about their recent doctor visit

bahamian!reader and rafe house hunting every night, determined to find a place for their growing family. the night they finally find the one that fits all their wants and needs is one for the history books

bahamian!reader who’s excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love form him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child

second trimester (4-6 months)

bahamian!reader and rafe who move into their new house in the winter right when the second trimester starts

bahamian!reader's food cravings are bahamian delicacies which aren't common in obx so rafe calls her siblings so they can walk him through it. she cries when he makes her conch fritters because they taste exactly the ones from the street vendor by her school

bahamian!reader and rafe start to discuss birthing options which surprises rafe because he thought they were just going to the mainland, he'd been researching all the best hospitals, researching their doctors, and scrolling through reviews.

bahamian!reader wants a home birth and like rafe, already has a plan and has done her research

bahamian!reader who talks to rafe about the possibility of her dying during childbirth and has to explain to him that the mortality rate for black women is high so they have to prepare for the worst possible scenario. he understands but he doesn't wanna think about it and doubles down on their need to give birth in a hospital

bahamian!reader who is excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love for him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child. she also writes twenty three letters for her unborn child for every birthday so she can give her advice for most of her life

rafe finally agrees to a homebirth after finding the letters after bahamian!reader fell asleep at his desk while writing letter twenty four. bahamian!reader already has a doula in mind, the woman that helped birth most of her siblings, rafe thinks she's too old to still be in her prime and bahamian!reader says he'll eat his words when he sees her work

bahamian!reader and rafe hire a team of midwives from the mainland to help with the birth and buy a ticket to obx for the doula in the bahamas

rafe hasn't touched coke in almost a year and plans on staying clean for his family. he takes up social drinking which bahamian!reader can already see becoming a problem

bahamian!reader and rafe miss partying sometimes but nothing beats staying home and getting a belly massage while watching reality tv. rafe massages her belly with oils recommended by doctors (and kiara) to help with stomach cramps

they feel the baby kick during one of these late night routines and they both freeze. they look at each other, communicating everything with their eyes, waiting for it to happen again and praying it wasn't a fluke. when it happens again they laugh, cry, and kiss

the pogues of course end up finding out one by one. john b’s first cause he saw sarah buying diapers and thought she was pregnant and sarah had to tell him she wasn’t and that bahamian!reader was the pregnant one. kiara sells bahamian!reader some oils that are often used by pregnant women, jj sees her baby bump while she's at the country club, and pope automatically knows shes pregnant when he sees her house a double burger supreme at the wreck.

rafe is at the country club with kelce and offhandedly mentions a baby shower which kelce takes rafe wanting one. he enlists the help of sarah to throw this baby shower and they go all out

bahamian!reader and rafe find elaborate gender reveals lame so they just go back to the doctor's to figure out the sex

it's a girl! rafe is nervous but happy and bahamian reader is excited. they also find out the due date, bahmian!reader is so glad that their baby's gonna be a summer baby

rafe knows kelce and sarah are planning the baby shower but they refuse to let him in on any of their plans outside of asking him vague questions about due dates and

bahamian!reader who spends time with wheezie when rafe is out with barry doing "business". they get along great, wheezie reminds bahamian!reader of her little sister and bahamian!reader reminds wheezie of sarah

rafe really wants to legitimize his business and break away from his father's shadow but it's easier said than done

bahamian!reader occasionally hangs out with barry when he comes over to discuss business and they just chop it up. rafe is only slightly jealous but he's happy they get along

bahamian!reader and rafe who can't wait to meet their baby girl

third trimester (7-9 months)

rafe gets super protective around this time and bahamian!reader's weakening state does nothing to ease his worries

the doula and midwives land in obx and immediately get to work, putting bahamian!reader on bedrest, setting up shop around their house, and prepping the birthing room

bahamian!reader's boobs are sore more often than not these days. rafe feels so bad because on one hand his baby is in pain but on the other hand mommy milkers

rafe definitely has questionable thoughts about her being a mother like it's doing crazy things to his brain he really hasn't thought of it til now and he can't stop

bahamian!reader and rafe come down to two names but refuse to tell when anyone asks because they don’t want to “ruin the surprise”

kelce and sarah are running the baby shower organizing party like the goddamn navy. they sit the parents to be down and show them the baby shower invitations and try to choose a theme but bahamian!reader is too busy watching rafe make johnny cake and how good he looks shirtless

bahamian!reader gets very homesick the closer her due date gets. she's worried that their daughter will never get to see her home and her family

rafe notices she's feeling down and puts two and two together when she cries into her plate of fried plantains

bahamian!reader and rafe come back home from a spa day booked by kelce and sarah to their house covered in decorations and their closest friends screaming 'surprise'. they knew.

rafe tells bahamian!reader he's got a surprise for her and tells her to answer the door when someone knocks. she opens the door and sees her siblings which causes a ten-minute reunion hug and cry

bahamian!reader kisses rafe all over his face until all of her lipgloss is on him and gets really emotional about him doing this for her and is overcome with love and affection she feels like she's gonna burst

wheezie is a welcomed surprise and rafe wants to ask how she got past rose before seeing her not to far from them. wheezie tells him not to let that stop them from having a great time and to remember this day is about them

kelce and sarah are very proud of their hard work and can be found talking to their guests about how hard it was to put all this together but how they wouldn't trade it for the world

bahamian!reader is the guest of honor so of course she gets a crown, a throne, a scepter and a beaded necklace, she feels like the queen of carnival

bahamian!reader catches up with her siblings, asks them about school, work, romances, old friends, how home is and they ask her what it's like living in a mansion

rafe does not like being away from bahamian!reader for long periods of time so he tries to stay close by as he's bombarded with questions about fatherhood and his relationship from kooks and pogues alike

bahamian!reader squeals when she sees barry and runs to hug him. she's glad that he can still spin her around despite her recent weight gain. he apologizes but she brushes him off, tells him everyone else is just early

rafe tells his drug dealer turned ally and business partner that he's late but barry tells him he's operating on "the white man's" time

the party ends with the "reveal", bahamian!reader hits a piñata and pink candy falls out. her siblings and friends wish them congratulations but bahamian!reader is too tired to continue the festivities so rafe being the good man he is kicks everyone out

bahmian!reader convinces her siblings to stay in obx until she gives birth but can't convince them to stay in the house even after going back and forth about how they wouldn't be burdening them at all

rafe and bahamian!reader spend the rest of the next day opening up the rest of the presents

birth/early year

bahamian!reader wants to go to the beach but not just any beach, one in the bahamas. flying is not an option at this point so rafe promises to take her and the baby to the bahamas when they’re ready

rafe is planning the hell out of the labor from what time contractions are gonna start to charging every device that has a camera so they can remember it

bahamian!reader goes into labor a week early and rafe freaks the fuck out while she's calm as a cucumber. he's worried what this could mean no matter how much the midwives assure him that she's fine and that it's perfectly normal especially considering her family history

bahamian!reader is walking around to help with the pain with rafe following closely behind her. she jokes about going up the stairs and his face going pale is equally hilarious and adorable

bahamian!reader falls to her knees after an excruciatingly painful contraction. rafe is panicking and decides that's enough walking around, lifts her up bridal style, and takes her back to the birthing room

the pool is ready and the midwives tell rafe to put her inside but she grabs his arm with a crushing grip, meets his eyes, and tells him to get her siblings. he reassures her he'll call them but she tells him to go pick them up and while he doesn't wanna argue with her especially at a time like this he doesn't wanna leave her alone and he's certain they'll answer and be on their way before they even hang up but she doesn't wanna risk it and now she's crying so he'll do it

he's pretty sure he's breaking every speeding law and passed many red lights but he can afford it. he doesn't even get to finish telling them she's in labor they're already in the car. he breaks some more laws on his way back but it's worth it because he gets to hold his girl's hand and tell her she's doing great as she pushes

bahamian!reader is happy to be surrounded by family at a time like this although she does threaten rafe with the camera while also telling him to get her good side

she's in labor for fifteen hours and rafe never leaves her side once. he needs coffee? the adults send one of the children to get them some (rafe's not sure about it at first but bahamian!reader's younger brother assures him that they've all been drinking and making coffee since they were five)

at the fifteenth hour, bahamian!reader brings her sisters in close and tells them to always wear condoms as she pushes one last time and the baby's head appears. she cries happy tears and feels rafe kiss her sweaty forehead, the doula and midwives tell her to push five more times

bahamian!reader and rafe cry tears of joy and disbelief at the sight of their little girl. she's taken out of the water by a midlife and cleaned up before being passed to her mother and father

rafe cries when he holds her. he can't believe something so tiny and soft and pure is half of him. he's overwhelmed with so much love and affection already he knows he'll do anything for her, for both of them. he promises her he'll be better than his father

bahamian!reader rests for two hours after delivery giving rafe and her siblings ample time to get to know the baby. her youngest siblings were made to wait outside during the delivery finally get to see their niece and the youngest, lil john, is happy he's no longer the baby (he's still a baby just not thee baby)

everyone wants to know her name but rafe refuses to tell them until bahamian!reader is up

bahamian!reader wakes up to rafe at her side with their baby and feels her heart squeeze at the sight of them. he tells her how proud he is of her and thanks her for giving him this bundle of joy which of course makes her cry

their intimate moment is interrupted by wheezie bursting in and asking where the baby is. rose apologizes for her and is followed by all of bahamian!reader's siblings screaming about "a white lady and her baby"

everyone's happy to see that bahamian!reader's up and alive but they all know the real star is the baby

rafe is very warry of anyone else holding her but when he side eyes bahamian!reader's siblings and wheezie she tells him to knock it off

wheezie wants to hold her but is scared of hurting her. bahamian!reader reassures her that it's not hard and she'll be fine. the baby is the spitting image of rafe but like if rafe was biracial

"what's her name?"

rafe and bahamian!reader smile at each other

“wheezie, meet louise.” she sobs.

she's very honored that they named her after her but worries that she'll be bullied in school for having an "old lady name". bahamian!reader cracks up rafe does not find this funny and takes his baby back

after everyone's gotten a chance to hold and look at the baby rafe kicks them all out because "his girl needs rest"

bahamian!reader says she's not tired but rafe doesn't believe it, he lets her have that lie though and tells her it's just so they can spend time with the baby themselves

bahamian!reader and her siblings say goodbye for what feels like two hours but is shockingly only one. rafe has to remind them that they'll see each other again tomorrow because their hotel is max thirty minutes away

sarah comes to visit and comes with a truckload of gifts and is automatically cooing over the newborn. she's talking about wanting to pinch her little cheeks and eat her up when rafe decides to take his baby back. she pouts and says she was just joking but he's not taking any chances

bahamian!reader was worried that louise wouldn't latch but she was proven wrong when she fed her the first time and she latched on immediately. it was more of a struggle to get her to let go

bahamian!reader is worried about the baby weight and what rafe will think and turns to her sisters for advice which was the wrong idea because they tell her to leave him if he says anything and that they'll take care of him

unsurprisingly, rafe has no problem with the change in her figure and says "onlys cucks and virgins have an issue with that". he's very into it actually, constantly grabbing her stomach and thighs and kissing up and down her neck. constantly being told "don't start something you can't finish bey"

bahamian!reader has a tearful goodbye with her siblings after the first month, she's scared that they won't be able to do it without their help but knows they have lives to return to. they promise her that she'll do great and that they'll see her when she visits

the first couple of doctor visits are easier than either thought until the vaccinations. rafe wants to wring the neck of the doctor giving louise her shots and making her cry. bahamian!reader has to remind him that it's temporary and her health

louise is a daddy's girl to her core thanks to rafe spoiling her rotten. when she's not with her mama she's definitely with her daddy, in his arms, behind his back, on his hip, in a stroller, a carrier, or in a pouch

her first social outing post birth is at the country club with rafe. kelce and topper see her and automatically start gushing about how cute she is. kelce talks in a baby voice and topper plays peek-a-boo with her, rafe would mock them if it was anyone else's brat but he knows his daughter is the cutest girl in the world so he understands

topper says she looks exactly like him down to his cold stare and kelce jokes that she's thankfully got her mother's melanin

first time barry sees baby louise is when he makes a surprise visit. he finds rafe on his balcony and is shocked when he turns around and has a baby strapped to his chest

louise loves barry. she's immediately intrigued by him, reaching for him from her pouch surprising rafe and bahamian!reader when she walks in on louise giggling as she pushes her tiny fingers into the dealer's mouth and pulls at his nose

barry says she's lucky she's cute and jokes that she got all her looks from bahamian!reader. rafe says he's lucky he's holding his baby or he'd knock his lights out

rafe and bahamian!reader go all out for her first christmas even though they know she probably won't remember any of it. winter photoshoots, pictures with mall santas, big family dinners, and loads of gifts. rafe promises her that when she's old enough to remember christmas he'll take her somewhere with snow for christmas

rafe gets bahamian!reader a snow globe of her bar in the bahamas and she gets him a new bike, both are left speechless by the accuracy of the gifts and the care that went into getting them they definitely fuck nasty after louise is asleep

bahamian!reader and rafe have no trouble with getting up in the middle of the night to look after a screaming baby because both their sleep schedules were kind of fucked beforehand

bahamian!reader wants louise baptized and while rafe is not against it he's surprised to hear that bahamian!reader is religious

"so what'd you think the cross necklace was for?"

"aesthetic reasons? i don't know."

"that brain of yours for 'aesthetic reasons'?"

they both agree that sarah should be the godmother only because they agree she's the most mature albeit not the oldest. rafe doesn't want wheezy to have all that pressure and power and bhamian!reader doesn't want the twins, two of her younger sister diana and donna, to fight over who gets to be godmother

bahmaian!reader's siblings watch the baptism through zoom but are still somehow the loudest there. sarah sobs at being named the godmother and while rafe looks disgusted at her snot and blubbering they both know he's happy she's there

louise says her first words a few weeks after the baptism. it's 'mama' which rafe says isn't fair because bahamian!reader has been "conditioning her to say it" they both know he's just jealous she said mama before daddy

he gets his lick back when she takes her first steps and wobble runs into his arms. bahamian!reader calls him a smug asshole and takes her baby from his arms

louise's first birthday is a grand occasion and this time they're all hands on deck. bahamian!reader flew out her siblings once again and they help with the party supplies, gifts, invites, and catering

rafe gets a little choked up during the planning cause he's never had a family like this, not since his mother. bahamian!reader and her siblings pinch his cheeks and cheer him up letting him know that he's family now

louise is dressed up in a big pink dress with a tiara to match because she is a princess. the three-layered cake is a castle and there's a bouncy house, she's having a ball

the girls of the family can't get enough of her from the twins, to fourteen year old mia and wheezie, and of course sarah. bahamian!reader find them moment too cute not to take a picture

bahamian!reader taking pictures of the birthday girl, the party, and all of the attendees, her favorite is the one where louise is messily feeding rafe cake

the baby is tired so rafe puts her down for a nap and stays by her side so bahamian!reader and keep talking to friends and family

bahamian!reader does not believe in the 'terrible twos' and even if she did that's something that happens to other peoples' kids not hers. rafe tells her he was a terror at two and she's like "oh i'm sure". if louise is ever extra bratty she blames it on rafe spoiling her and being her father which he knows is fair but does bring up that she is her mother. he sleeps on the couch that night.

bahamian!reader is so excited cause they can finally take their daughter to the motherland. they take the jet of course because it's the fastest and rafe has to hear 'are we there yet?' from a two year old and a twenty four year old

when they touch down in the bahamas they immediately book it to her childhood home where all her siblings still live and it's like she's been given a second wind. she's zooming everywhere from the beach to street vendors to her bar because she wants to show louise everything. rafe has to remind her that they're spending the summer so there's no need to squeeze everything into one day

bahamian!reader is very excited to take louise to the beach because there's nothing like it. she has to explain to rafe that obx's water is nothing like the bahamas

"bey you should know this, you seen it. ya stood in it!"

"wasn't really thinking about how beautiful the sea was at the time babe."

they of course brought a floatie for louise to sit in and get the full experience despite her pouting and telling them she could swim just fine

bahamian!reader pushes a strand of hair behind louise's ear as she speaks in a soft tone. "we know baby we just want you to be safe because the ocean can get really big. bigger than daddy sometimes."

louise's mouth is agape at the thought of something taller than her daddy. "woah. okay mama."

bahamian!reader's new bikini she bought just for the trip get a lot of attention from non-rafes. rafe comes over and kisses bahamian!reader silly in front of them like they're not there and passes louise to her before strutting off to get a beer. the message is loud and clear

louis is very sad when it's time to leave but they promise the beach is still gonna be there tomorrow. she immediately falls asleep in the ride back to the house

bahamian!reader's siblings offer to teach rafe how to play dominoes. she tries to save him but he tells her he can handle it, and in the beginning he does, he wins a round. the next few rounds are a massacre, he doesn't realize he's being swindled until the last round's over and he's lost five thousand dollars

bahamian!reader scolds her siblings for swindling him and rafe for not listening to her

bahamian!reader and rafe having date nights in the bahamas. she takes him out dancing one night which leads to a hot and heavy make out sesh in the alley. the next week they go skinny dipping and their last week in the bahamas they eat from several street vendors

you already know she's got him trained in taking photos like he has a master in cuntology and minored in photography

exhibit a

exhibit b

exhibit c

as the night comes to an end, they stop at a convenience store before heading home.

"you've never tried jarritos!?"

“is it really that hard to believe?"

"a little yeah. nah we're fixing that."

that's how he found himself being dragged through the aisles of a 24/7 convenience store. they stop in front of the horizontal fridges, she grins at the endless options. "well, here it is."

"here it is." he parrots back. she looks back at him and rolls her eyes but the smile tells him everything he needs to know. "what flavor you want?"

"you're the expert, what do you recommend?"

"mango."

"mango it is." he watches her open the fridge and grab two mango bottles. there's something about the flickering dying white light above them, the blue dim light in the freezer, the condensation on the mirror and the hum of the fridge. he's already pulling out his camera when she turns and smiles. click!

she grins, ""okay big man! mr. professional! i see you!" she closes the fridge and faces him, one hand on her hip "was it good?"

"with you? always."

she halfheartedly shoves him and walks past him. "thank you." she stops and looks back at him, "i just wanted good photos."

he shrugs and reaches her in three strides. he wraps one arm around her waist, "yeah but i wouldn't have done it without you."

she smiles, "maybe. maybe not. let's go, my baby's waiting for me." he chuckles as they walk up to the cashier, manned by an old skinny dark skinned man with an unbuttoned shirt and a hat. he's looking down at his phone watching what sounds like a soccer game when she clears her throat.

the old man looks up and does a double take. rafe knows that look well.

he turns off his phone and attempts to straighten himself up, "good evening ma'am. little late to be out by yourself no?"

she glares, "don't try it old man."

the man frowns but squints, "hol'on oh my lord gal i didn't recognize you? how you been?"

"i straight, where's your glasses wilson thomas?"

he shrugs, "ah you know those doctors just tryin' to make money." he swipes the drinks and puts them in bags. "last i heard ya moved to north carolina and had a baby? i said "no way" thought it was just sip sip."

she grins, "yeah, i'm a taken woman now." the man finally acknowledges rafe who gives him a cold menacing smile.

wilson maintains his chivalrous act but the couple sees right through him "oh that's good!"

she chuckles as she swipes her card, "uh huh. goodnight thomas." she grabs rafe's hand and leaves the store as wilson calls after them. "hey stop by any time ya hear! i always got a discount for ya!"

they stop a good distance away from the store, she pulls out both bottles, "sorry 'bout him."

"what's his deal?" rafe asks as he accepts the drink from her hand.

she takes a sip and shakes her head, "old perv."

"oh?"

she shrugs, "always got everything in that shack of his though." she says it like it's no big deal but he notices the way her hand balls into a fist.

he looks down at the drink in his hand and taps the cap before biting the bullet. "do you miss living here?"

she stops drinking and looks at him. she swallows, "what's this?"

he wants to find the right words so it takes him a little longer to reply. "you're- you seem... happier here? do- would you wanna stay here?" she looks out to the direction of the ocean and closes her eyes, taking in the smell and the sound.

"i miss it."

he feels like he's been sucker punched in the gut.

"but i love living with you. and yeah i miss my family but you're my family, you and louise. doesn't matter where we are."

how did he get so lucky? "i love you."

she smiles, "i love you."

bahamian!reader and louise are disappointed when they have to head back to outer banks but bahamian!reader promises to visit when they can and tells her siblings their home is always open to them. they apologize to rafe for swindling him but he tells them it's fine cause he did worse at their ages

louise cries until they're at the airport and she falls asleep and doesn't wake up until they're in the sky

louise may be a daddy's girl but she loves her mama. it only becomes a problem on the first day of pre-k

louise stomps her foot and cries, "i don't wanna go mama!"

bahamian!reader squats down to her level and wipes her tears, "oh i know baby but you wanna get smarter and bigger right."

she shrugs, pouting and refusing to look her in the eye. bahamian!reader feel her heart break, seeing her baby sad is one thing but knowing she's the cause of that pain is another.

"okay. no lies, it's hard. it's gonna be hard for me and your daddy to watch you go through the doors and it's gonna be hard for you to be without us for a while. but i promise you, we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't know it would help you. i can't promise you'll have fun but i promise you'll learn something and the hours will go by faster than you think?"

louise rubs at her eyes and her come to a stop, “really?"

"really. and before you know it me and daddy will be here to pick you up and give you a million kisses and biiiiig hugs." she lightly squeezes her to give her an example of the hugs.

louise giggles. "you're silly mama."

she smiles, "i know." she wipes her daughters tears and gives her one last hug. "i love you baby."

"i love you more mama."

"impossible." she smiles and kisses her forehead signaling for the homeroom teacher to take over.

she grabs louise's hand and tells her to wave bye to bahamian!reader, she does and bahamian!reader waves back as she watches the two disappear into the classroom.

louise is already the next kook princess, only three years old and she has everyone wrapped around her cute little finger

second pregnancy

about 3 years after louise bahamian!reader gets pregnant again. they ecstatic but are worried that louise won't be since she's used to getting all their attention. they both know what it's like to have all the love and spotlight on you and suddenly having to share it with another kid

louise is very happy to hear that she's gonna be a big sister and puts her ear against bahamian!reader's stomach trying to hear them. they tell her she won't be able to hear or feel them for a while

they both agree that the second pregnancy was easier because they know all the tricks and hacks and have made a plan A-Z for the birth. what they weren't prepared for were twins

rafe’s shocked when they find out there having twins but bahamian!reader isn’t. she forgot to tell him that twins run in her family

rafe is officially freaking the fuck out, he doesn't know how he can replicate what he did with louise with twins!

bahamian!reader is surprisingly calm for most of her pregnancy, seeing twins as a challenge that she can take on

louise helps keep her stress as low as she can; she cleans up her toys, helps set the table, and keeps bahamian!reader company when she goes on bedrest later in her pregnancy

rafe and bahamian!reader stick to online shopping for baby materials this time

bahamian!reader's cravings have involved from bahamian food to triple cheese totinos pizza and cans of cool whip

jj jokingly calls her huge one time and makes her cry and rafe would’ve beaten the shit out of him if he wasn’t held back by barry and bahamian!reader forgives him

bahamian!reader and rafe agree to make charles, her younger brother, and barry the twins' godfathers because they are the most qualified despite some of their shadier pasts

bahamian!reader wants to have the twins at a high class fancy mainland hospital because she doesn't risk either of the twins. they find a place that's the combination of a high end hotel and a medical facility/hospital and book their stay

it's not a surprise when they put bahamian!reader on bedrest and while she understands she is still pouty

"i'm not pouting." she pouts from what she's started calling "a fluffy prison".

rafe looks up from massaging her feet and chuckles. "looks like pouting. what do you think lou?"

louise nods and points accusingly, "stop pouting mama?"

"louise!?"

the labor is eighteen excruciating hours but it's all worth it when she sees her babies joel and alice, named after billy joel and rafe's mom. he cries when he hears her name and can't stop kissing her and baby alice as he thanks her for everything

the twins give them a run for their money, not literally of course they could afford the diapers but sleep-wise. when one is down the other is awake which sometimes leads to the other twin being woken up, this goes on for a while until they find a good strategy

louise is a great big sister, always playing with the twins and holding thier hands when they cross the street, cheering them up when they're sad, and sharing her toys

both parents can't believe their lives but they wouldn't trade it for the world

[rafessweetgirl]

secrets

summary: you’re rafe's girlfriend, but he fucked up and now he needs you to be a little more than just that.

warnings: angst, nothing else fr

a/n: based on diary by alicia keys!! i haven't heard this song in years but when i listened to it a couple weeks ago i alr had a story. very strongly recommend listening to it while reading. (that's fr how i wrote it.) i promise ill get pt 2 of everything you wanted out eventually. love yall <3

i wont tell...your secrets 

you woke up from your spot on the couch to the front door busting open. who would come barging in this early in the morning? only one person came to mind. “rafe?” you sat up, hands bracing against the cushion under you to help you stand up. you walk over towards the front slamming into him. he’s been gone since yesterday morning and he looks rough, like he’s been in a fight. except that is exactly what happened. you reach for his face, but he flinches away. “hey, hey what’s wrong? where were you?”

he shakes his head. “nothin’ it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

he doesn’t look fine, not even close. “rafe, come on, you look hurt, let me help.”

he steps away from you. “i don’t need your help but…” his worried eyes meet yours. “baby i-i did something.”

——

rafes silence speaks volumes. he hasn’t uttered a word since he spoke that cryptic sentence. “you have to tell me eventually, baby.”

baby. he loves when you call him that. it softens the hardness embedded in him. it makes him feel better, worthy of your love that he doesn’t deserve anymore. not after what he did.

“you have to swear you wont tell a fucking soul.” 

your secrets...are safe with me

“it wasn’t john b.” that’s what rafe said. over and over again, like a broken record. that it wasn’t john meaning that it was someone else. what that meant you didn’t know. you assumed it meant that john b didn’t do the something bad your boyfriend mentioned, but instead rafe himself.

“what do you mean? what wasn’t john b?”

“i didn’t mean to, i swear….it wasn’t on purpose.” he turns to you, his knees bumping yours. he grabs your hands squeezing them, using you to relieve his stress. “you have to understand, i was just trying to protect ward.” he starts to try and calm himself. “yeah, i did it for him. wasn't tryna hurt her.”

“i can’t understand what you wont tell me, rafe.” there were so many things that he could’ve done. doing them in wards defense was….odd, to say the least. but about a million scenarios ran through your mind, his hands doing nothing to soothe either of you. “you can tell me anything.”

i will keep....your secrets 

you stare at rafe. you physically can’t move. he was the one who killed peterkin. not john b, like the island had believed. your own boyfriend, your sweet, sweet rafe. he said he did it for ward because “she was gonna kill him, i swear.” but why? 

ward didn’t really respect his son and probably didn’t even love him. and rafe hated him for that. all his life, he treated rafe as less than. so why, when it came down to it, would rafe choose ward?

“i love him, i really do, baby.”

“he doesn’t feel the same, rafe!” he shoots up suddenly, making you flinch.

“shut up! he does, he just has a hard time showing it. but i-“ he accentuates the "i" with a finger to his own chest, “i saved him. and now he’ll actually see me as his son, not just some kid he gave his dna to. but i lose that if i go to jail. so you can’t say a fucking word.”

your heartbeat begins to speed up. he’s putting the burden of his actions on you. you had nothing to do with it but if you agree to stay quiet about the truth, you might as well have pulled the trigger yourself. but you can’t betray rafe. you love him and everyone else in his life has hurt or betrayed him in one way or another. you can’t be added to the list.

tears begin to pool in your eyes. a few fall as you look down towards the floor. “i won’t.” 

just think of me as the pages in your diary

his personal diary. whenever shit goes left he'll turn to you, confide in you. he'll open you up, pick up the pen and write down every little secret. when he's done he'll close your pages and make you swear not to tell a soul. then he'll lock you up, guaranteeing the safety of his secrets. 

lovely divider by @kimjiho1

i wanna start a tag list, lmk if you want added! 💞

[innerfare]

Mihawk Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Mihawk angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Type of Date, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, Kisses, Cuddling, You're Sick).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Sees to your wound without a word, making sure it’s disinfected and bandaged and receives proper care until its healed. Places a soft, quiet kiss atop your head, doesn’t say a word. Makes a mental plan to avoid similar situations in the future. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you on a private tour of a winery. You’ll sample expensive wines together and debate various flavors and aging processes (he’ll definitely judge you by your taste in wine). When you’re not in a heated debate, you’ll share light conversation, and after the sun sets, you’ll walk the fields together. He’ll steal a few kisses off you, too, and kiss your hand at the end of the night.  

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

He sent you away for your own good. He had a premonition the Navy would be coming for him, and with them, a slew of bounty hunters that would have no qualms about using you against him. And yet, you remained in his dreams, though the hot and heavy ones he once had were replaced by cold fear. Every time he went to sleep, a different scenario, though the crux of it the same: you were being used as a pawn to get to him, a pawn in a lot of pain. And every time he woke up, the same: your side of the bed was empty, the shape of your body tangled in those satin sheets now but a memory. For your own good, he kept reminding himself, though he believed it less every time.  

I Love You: 

He doesn’t tell you when he feels it, however overwhelming the feeling may be, so you’ll definitely be the one to say it first. This man is the king of unspoken affection. He’d sooner die than draw his sword and cut through all the tension that seems to follow him. That being said, he does say it in other, more subtle ways, primarily referring to you as, “my love,” and leaving it at that. When you finally tell him you love him, he doesn’t even say it back, simply burying his face in your hair and saying, “I’m glad to hear it, my love.” He shocks you by saying it back a few months later, though you don’t say it back, instead pulling him in for a kiss. And it continues like that, only one of you ever saying it, the other responding with affection. 

Kisses: 

So sensual when he kisses you. Mihawk is an incredible kisser, thanks to a lot of practice in his youth, though these days he’s far more picky about who he chooses to kiss. Almost always has his hands on your face when he does it. Often runs his tongue across your lips before pushing it into your mouth. Will talk to you between kisses, telling you how much he missed you and calling you, “my love,” or, “my little bird.” Very into hickies, particularly in private places. Goes a little crazy if you kiss his hands, especially if you play with them first (foreplay is important). 

Cuddling: 

He’s not clingy, but he’s also not one to withhold affection. When he feels like showing it, he does. Sometimes this is putting a hand on your hip and placing a kiss on your cheek while you’re cooking, and other times it’s pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head while you’re asleep but he’s still awake contemplating life. Any sort of cuddles are always accompanied by a kiss of some kind. 

You’re Sick: 

It’s easy to think he’s not taking care of you. You don’t see him at your side the entire time you have a fever, but as you fade in and out of consciousness, you’re aware of a presence, and the times you wake, you find a hot meal or some fresh flowers on your bedside table. When you finally have the strength to rise, you’ll find him in his chair reading the newspaper as if nothing happened. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[nighthaunting]

I know we’re all just clowning here on tumblr dot com but I do think the perception of Morgott as like, ultra-religious and sort of blindly following the Golden Order despite their hatred of Omens is a really contextless reading of his situation.

If we read the description of his great rune it says:

That the Omen King was born of the golden lineage, and that he was indeed the Lord of Leyndell.

Morgott was the rightful ruler of Leyndell, Omen or not that was his golden city full of people who would revile him if they knew of his true origin.

I think his motives are less someone who’s tricked themselves into believing in something that hates him and more someone who’s wanted a place where he belongs for so long that now that there’s finally a place that he provably has a right to he’s never leaving.

Morgott isn’t deluded about what the Golden Order is or he’d never have invented the Veiled Monarch. Even the lines about his becoming the Erdtree’s protector don’t really indicate he had a particularly faith-based reason for doing so, but rather that he found that he came to love the Erdtree despite not knowing love.

Morgott is the gothic heroine who just inherited a big cursed estate but he wants a place that’s his own so bad he moves into the haunted house anyway and starts loving the architecture despite it being full of ghosts that hate him.

Morgott who led the Night’s Cavalry to hunt Tarnished, and beat the shit out of Rahdan, and launched the Seige of Mt. Gelmir and prosecuted the bloodiest and most costly war in the Shattering is not a guy who is getting his blind fundamentalist on, he’s a guy who’s decided that he’ll pile up a mountain of corpses before he lets anyone take away or threaten his place and is willing to be extremely proactive about defending it.

Editing to add:

And see the thing is, I think there’s even more nuance to it than just Morgott finally having a scrap of something to call his own and being willing to defend it with all his might!

In hindsight, I actually think Morgott had a better idea than anyone what the Tarnished would eventually have to do to get to the Elden Throne.

His dialogue as he’s dying makes it clear he’s known about the thorns blocking the way into the Elden Throne and been considering every way anyone might get through them.

In his dialogue as Margit in Stormveil, he says very specifically “the flame of ambition” and speaks of snuffing that flame.

I think Morgott realized that the only way a Tarnished could get into the Elden Throne would be to burn the Erdtree, and not only has he come to love this fixture of the haunted house he chooses to live in, but he knows that burning the Erdtree would destroy the place he calls his own.

Is it any wonder he’s so proactively trying to stop any Tarnished from even approaching Leyndell in the first place, when in his eyes it wouldn’t be unreasonable to view a sufficiently powerful Tarnished as a direct threat to the piece of the Lands Between that he’s carved out for himself?

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 6: Silver linings

genre: FINALLY JUST SOME PURE COMFORT FLUFFFFF

word count: 6151

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: weeks pass you by without much happening and you need to remind yourself: you believe in silver linings.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEE! It took me so long to feel like they were ready for this but oh my god, the wait was so worth itttttt! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments! also, I would love to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @donttrustlove who reads and comments on every chapter I post <3

“We have a few emails coming in for the manager position, do you want to check them out?”

You two are sitting on his kitchen counter like this is the most natural thing to do at two in the morning. Spencer has work the next morning but still insists that it’s fine and that he wants to keep you company. You think he still feels guilty about the fact that, if not for him and his weird connection to Cat, you would have never been put into this tricky of a position. So he makes up for it where he can– he brings dinner whenever he knows he’ll be home late because he knows you’ll be waiting for him to eat; he makes a mean cereal bowl in the morning whenever he has time; he leaves books he knows you are yet to read by the small table next to your armchair because that is now your armchair and he would never steal that away from you. 

In your own efforts, you also try to make him feel a bit more comfortable with the reality of everything, and you don’t bug him much to go outside, anymore. You don’t call him all panicked and gasping for air whenever he goes on work trips either, instead choosing to spend those lonely days in the endless company of Penelope. Officer Kaper has gotten better and been cleared to work again, and having him with you whenever Spencer isn’t brings you some sort of comfort and guilt. This man had become a target thanks to you and suddenly, you don’t quite read the fantastical stories of princesses and their faithful knights. The way your stomach weights down whenever they eventually get hurt to protect the fairest lady of the land does not sit right with you anymore– you refuse to believe that romance is hurt and pain for one and comfort and safety for the other. 

At this point two weeks had gone by without you even noticing. Suddenly, you jumped from day 9 to day 23 and with the month mark approaching, so is your need for answers. Cat has been silent ever since the attack on Officer Kaper’s house, and so is her partner. For a second, it’s almost like she’s teasing you, like she’s throwing a taste of freedom in your face only to later pull the carpet from right under your feet. Spencer must feel like this too, considering how jittery he has been lately. At this point, you know how to recognise the different gestures of those pretty hands, and the way he fidgets with his fingers while reading War and Peace yet again tells you that he is not, in fact, reading the book, but trying to read himself. You don’t quite understand him fully yet, and that is okay; Spencer has shown you that even if it takes time, he is worth waiting for. 

You still don’t know what happened to him, weeks ago, when you two were discussing Josh. You still don’t know what made him choke on his own words or what had his body limp and stripped of energy in your arms, but the truth is that you don’t really care what it was. Not yet. For now, you are just happy that Spencer showed you a side of himself that you had never seen before, and that he has been less… overbearing about your job. Actually, he had been the one that told you to check your emails for applications, suggesting stating the interview process so that you can make a schedule to possibly go back to the store. “Are you serious?” You whispered to him, eyes wide and waiting for Derek to pop out from the kitchen shouting ha! Gotcha! 

“Of course,” He smiled and nodded and the rest is history. 

The chairs are so close together that your legs brushes against his every time you lean forward to squint at the computer, but at this point, you two don’t even notice it. Cuddling on the couch after a mentally taxing conversation had unlocked new heights for you two, and though he does miss the way your cheeks flushed red whenever your fingers brushed, he prefers how now you just smile, honest and bright, whenever he’s closer than he should be. You don’t know that, but Spencer thinks your spoiling him rotten with these smiles. In your defence, however, smiling at him is just the easiest thing in the world. “Okay, what do we think of this one? His name is–“

“No.” 

Your head whips to look at him, eyes wide behind your glasses. “But I didn’t even finish my sentence!”

“There is a weird gap in his resume,” Spence points out with a smug smile. He likes showing off to you, you’ve noticed. 

“I can ask him about it during the interview process! Spence, he used to work at–“

“Next.” 

You know he won’t budge when he gives you that tight-lipped, dimples-showing smile of his. “My god, you are hard to please,” You grumble and poke him in the stomach with your elbow, already scrolling to the next email. 

When you feel his arm falling onto the back of your chair, you lean back a little into his touch, humming to keep yourself awake. “I am not hard to please,” He says easily. “I just won’t accept you hiring mediocre men to do the job you’ve been doing flawlessly.” 

The way he emphasises men makes you chuckle. “But a mediocre woman is okay?”

“A bit better,” He admits gruffly, and you laugh. “This one seems promising!”

“Give me time to read, Spencer!” You groan, leaning forward again and nodding while your eyes scan through each line. “Okay, she seems good, Mr. Picky. Studied English Literature, so she’ll obviously have some literary background, has previous experience managing bookshops and cafes, has dealt with stock and suppliers before…” The list goes on and on, and you write her name down on the notebook to your right. That’s where the names Penelope will be running a background check on go, per Spencer’s insistence. 

“Wait a second,” Something about the name, so visual and palpable in your little notebook previously filled with facts and memories of Spencer, makes you frown. Why does it sound so familiar? 

Abigail Harrison. 

“What is it?” He hums, chin once again finding perch on your shoulder. Little by little, you start to think that that is where he belongs, leaning on you, relying on you. “Who is Abigail Harrison?” 

“I don’t–“ But then you see it, the address on top of the resume and you hold your breath. “Abigail.” 

“Abi– Wait, the new neighbour? That Abigail?” His arms go around you, and now you’re in an awkward angle, half falling off the chair, half leaning on him, but you don’t mind. What you do mind is the uncomfortable, suspicious feeling in your gut. “Oh. That’s fine.” 

“You don’t think it’s a weird coincidence?” Turning to look at him, you bit your lip in unsureness. 

“Not really– if anything, I think it’s a very logical series of events,” He shrugs and you feel it in your own body. “She clearly has the experience and is obviously looking for a job, so why not one that fits her as an employee and is just a five minute walk across the street?” 

As if sensing your worries, Spencer moves, yet again doing the unpredictable and dropping a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Having one thing to worry about it not enough, apparently, so he gives you another one, and now you know for a fact you won’t be able to sleep any time soon. He’s been doing things like this lately, and you think it’s because he’s finally getting used to your presence next to him at almost all hours of the day. His phobia of germs seems to be pushed aside when it comes to your skin, and if he washes his hand right after letting you go, you don’t take it to heart; it’s just who he is. But with cheek kisses and forehead kisses starting a list, this is yet another one for you to tally up– shoulder kisses. All five stars, ten-out-of-ten-would-do-it-again, though you don’t really ask him for them. You just wait. Living with Spencer has taught you patience, amongst many other things, and for him you don’t mind exercising it to its fullest, excited for your list to grow even longer. 

“Garcia already ran her name through the database,” He whispers in your ear, hands going up and down your arms in a gesture that tells you he knows you’re nervous. “She’s clean, sweetheart.” 

This is new too. 

Letting out a strangled noise at the changes that kept on coming, you nod, mind completely shifting focus. “Yeah, okay,” You breathe out, eyes slowly fighting to stay open and not because of the time. “I uh, I’ll reply to her and ask her to come in to the shop for an interview…”

“That sounds great, but it also sounds like it can be done tomorrow when you’re not almost falling asleep,” Oh, sweet, innocent Spencer. Before you can even protest, he shakes his head, smiling like he’s trying to hold it back. “We’re going to bed, Y/N. I have work tomorrow and now, so do you.” 

Any and all protests fall disappear from your lips– the prospect of getting to go to work after only being able to keep the store’s website open actually has you excited enough to make you sleepy. The contradictory emotions will surely bit you in the ass when you actually lay down next to Spencer, but you don’t care. You get to open up the shop again and that alone is enough to make you squeak in glee, naked feet thumping through the wooden floor. He always bugs you to put on socks, afraid that you’ll get sick with the cold breeze that manages to push its way in despite the windows being shut, but you like feeling the cold on your soles. It always sends a little zap of life up your body and you enjoy it the same way kids enjoy hopping in the mud despite the mess– it makes you feel alive. 

There is a rhythmic routine to how you and Spencer get ready for bed. He brushes his teeth behind you, and you usually wash your face first, so that while he does it, you can braid your hair ready for the night. At first, you didn’t really worry about that because you two did your best to stay in your respective corner of the bed. You tried putting a pillow between you too but after the first time you kicked it off of the bed, you never bring it to the room with you again. Then you tried just paying attention, but that made you lose a significant amount of sleep and you ended up cranky for days. Giving up and accepting that, like it or not, you will end up waking up in Spencer’s arms, legs tangled with his and mouth drooling a little on his shirt, had been the best thing to do to move forward. Now, you two don’t pretend that anything else will happen, and before you’re even asleep, he opens his arms with a grunt, your signal to scoot closer and enjoy your very own space heater of man. “Alright, alright, I’m here,” You mumbled, happy with the way your body is warm but your feet are cold. So cold, in fact, that the moment one brushes up against his, Spencer yelps. 

“What the hell was that?” He gasps, eyes going wide in shock. 

“What?” You ask, smiling mischievously. 

It would be unfair to say that the fear from early in the days has disappeared. It hasn’t– you’re still scared. Sometimes, it tackles you like a football player, abruptly and with so much force that you’re left breathless and immobile for a few minutes. Other times, it creeps up behind you, and you have time to prepare yourself. Despite the sudden appearances, however, your fear has lost that constantness that it had before. It’s duller, to the point that at times it’s just not there at all. And you quite like it, everything considered… it gives you space to breathe. It also gives you space to be– not be anything specific, but just be. And the more you can be, the more your personality starts to come back, peeking through the curtains you had set between yourself and the world. 

Spencer always knew you were a playful woman, but this just confirmed it. “Y/N, don’t you–AH! Oh my god, these are death machines! Put some socks on!”

“Never!” You shout before fully pushing your feet against his legs. 

Laying there, feeling Spencer squirm underneath you and then going off on some random fact about why it is important to keep your feet warm, is when you remember. 

You are a believer in silver linings. 

And you believe Spencer might just be yours. 

————————————

The shop looked exactly like you had left it, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Took you almost an hour to leave the house that morning, Spencer practically having to drag you away from the mirror with promises that “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Officer Kaper is waiting for you by the door when Spencer drops you off with a kiss to your cheek and hurried steps down the street. 

From then on, it’s a frenzy of cleaning. You try to convince Officer Kaper– or Mike, as he told you to call him– that he should sit down and guard the door, but he’s having none of it and instead, carries the not so heavy boxes of brand new books that you ordered as soon as you got news you’d be coming back to work. This is exciting to you, this return to normal, but it also makes you somewhat anxious. Once all of this is resolved– and you’ve taken to thinking about it with the mindset that it is not if it will be resolved, but once it is resolved– what will happen to you and Spencer? Living with him has its perks and the biggest one is that you get to actually see him with some sort of frequency. You get to experience having him in your life instead of just someone who comes and goes as they want. If you go back home, even if just across the street, right above your store he visits everyday… will you still feel this connection you do right now? Will you still get forehead kisses, and sneaky touches of his hand, and his pinky hooking with yours when you pass by?

None of that matters, though, when you hear the bell ringing through the shop. A customer. “Hello!” You call out from the shelves, making your way to the front. A buzz of anxiousness runs through you, though you quickly put it out; there is a literal police office standing guard by the door. You are safe. 

You are even safer when you see it’s Abigail, the downstairs neighbour. 

“Hi! I’m a little early, I hope that’s alright?” 

Oh god. With all the cleaning and organising, you lost track of time. “Oh gosh, yeah, of course!” You say, pulling your hair down from the mess on top of your hair and smoothing it down. 

You want to make a good impression on her. Out of all four interviews you have today, you hate to admit that Abigail seems the most fit for the position. Her experience is almost immaculate and her immediate availability is almost too good to be true. In fact, Abigail as a whole, with her warm smile and welcoming aura, seems too good to be true. As much as you believe in silver linings, she just seems like a straight up miracle. 

“Please, sit,” Pointing to the foldable chair by the corner of the counter, you smile. “We don’t really have a sitting area yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Abigail’s voice is bright and peppy, and you should like her. You do like her, actually, but even so, you can’t quite ignore the nagging feeling in your gut. “I also brought a copy of my resume in case you didn’t have mine readily available–“

“I have it here, but thank you!” So far she has been nothing but delightful, and to be honest, it’s almost like she is a missing puzzle. The way she fits in the store is almost weird, and maybe is the way she is dressed so similarly to you, or how she looks like someone who would manage a bookshop, all plaid and cardigans and pretty smiles. 

Pretty.

Abigail is pretty and that’s when it downs on you that you feel a little jealous. You are not ugly by any means, but the idea that Spencer will go to your store only to look at another woman– a younger, prettier woman– has you holding your breath. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” 

Snapping out of it, you blush in embarrassment. You’re being crazy and you know it. “Yeah! Sorry, my mind went somewhere else for a second. So uh, why don’t we start with you just telling me a little bit about yourself and what do you want to work here, I guess.” You sound as unsure as you feel, and you suddenly regret saying no to the list of questions Spencer offered to make you. 

“Well, we’ve met briefly when I was moving into the building,” She giggles. “But my name is Abigail Harrison, recently moved to Washington D.C. from New York City–“

“I’m from New York!” You exclaim, big smile spreading as you finally place the familiar intonation in her voice. 

“No way! Where? I was born and raised in Brooklyn!” And suddenly it all makes sense– her cool nerdiness, her extroverted nature, her ease to fit in. This girl is definitely from Williamsburg.

“Oh, I was raised in the West Village but then moved to uh, Upper East Side,” The memory of moving in with Joshua is an uncomfortable one and makes you immediately change the course of the conversation. Throughout this interaction, you have to remember to be nice, but also serious. You don’t want to give her the impression that this will be an easy job, specially not with how reluctant you already were with hiring someone. “So, why do you want to work here? Besides the close proximity, of course.”

“To be honest, I–“ And there is a pause. It’s not long nor weird, it just sounds like she’s thinking, but Spencer likes to point out your own pauses whenever you try to lie to him about your strategy during nightly backgammon, and it’s become a sort of a bad habit you’ve gotten from him. Squinting, you let her continue. “I just really like the store. I know this sounds a bit ridiculous, but I walk past here every morning, and every morning, I prayed that it would be open. Everything inside looked so… homey. So familiar. And I’ve worked with books my entire life, you know? I thought… it was fate.” 

There is a redness in her cheeks that makes you squirm in your seat, nape of your neck suddenly feeling a little clammy. “Fate…” You mumble, nodding while looking down at the blank notebook on your lap. Right now, you are torn– you are trying to understand what is it about Abigail that makes you so hesitant while also fighting against your gut simply because the more she talks about her experience, the more you know she has to be the one. 

“…and after almost five years as a manager, I’ve found that I have a really good method of keeping things in order,” She finishes, nodding eagerly for you to show her any reaction. 

“That is really good to hear,” You gulp, getting your head back in place. “So just to reiterate, this would be a full time, part time position, of sorts. I would still come in some days in the week, and you would be acting manager whenever I am not here to oversee things. Whenever I am here though, you would be a very welcomed extra pair of hands and company. Believe it or not, we tend to get quite busy during lunch time and it was getting a bit too much to be here by myself.”

“So we’d still work together some days, right?” Her excitement is so clear in her voice that even Officer Kaper turns to pay more attention to you two. “Like, we’d still get to be a uh, a team?”

“Of course,” You say, nodding stiffly and looking at the clock. “I love working in a collaborative environment and I wouldn’t leave you alone in a new job straight away. We’ll start with training days and go from there.”

“That sounds incredible!”

“Yeah…” Looking at Mike– you are doing your best to abide by his wishes and call him by his first name– he gives you a little nod of recognition. “Anyways, do you have any questions for me?” When she shakes her head, you get up and offer her a hand to shake. “I’ll be making a decision by today end of day. I have a couple of other people to interview, but I’ll let you know either way.” 

Is it just you or is her hand lingering a little? 

“If you don’t call me, I know where to find you,” She says, her little laughter giving out the fact that this is supposed to be a joke. But you don’t laugh. And neither does the armed policeman by your door. 

“Ha ha,” You say, trying your best to be nice regardless. “That you do!”

“Your boyfriend is lucky to have you, I bet he gets lots of books for free,” Abigail is a chatterbox, that much is clear, and with every try for a conversation, the more you feel like she’s just digging for gossip. For a minute, you actually think you are back in high school. 

“Wha–“

“Or is that not your boyfriend?” 

You don’t really know what to do, and it shows. Which is why you’re not surprised at all when Officer Kaper, your one and only hero, steps in. “Sorry to ask, ma’am, I should’ve said something before, but would you mind me checking your ID? We are conducting a security check system for the businesses in this area, there has been a rise in robberies lately and this is just for precaution.” 

“Oh my! Of course,” After that, it doesn’t take long for her leave. 

There is not even a minute of silence until a customer walks in and you have to slap that fake smile in your face again. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up in a way that makes you a bit too aware of everything, and that, in turn, makes your heart skip a beat. Nervously glancing at Mike, you keep trying to remind yourself that you are safe, that you have someone to protect you. It’s hard to focus on your work when Spencer’s voice echoes in your head making up a list of everything that could go wrong. Your job is very open to the general public. People can easily see inside. You don’t know what they have in their bags. His habit of mouthing off whatever comes to mind is not coming back to bite you in the ass. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Officer Kaper’s questions snaps you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh! No!” Shaking your head, you awkwardly lean over the counter to try and ignore the sure blush on your cheeks. “She’s talking about Spencer.” 

“She knows Doctor Reid?” It’s clear from his tone that this arises some suspicion in him. 

“She just moved into the building and we met her when we were coming out for a second,” You shrug. You don’t want to feed your panic and you also don’t want to leave the man who got injured because of you on edge and scared. Abigail is just a bit taller than you and definitely stronger, with the body of someone who seems to care about her healthy appearance, while you… well, you prefer sitting on your armchair all afternoon with a cup of coffee and a book in your hands. A bit of a cliche, yes, but your life overall was a bit of a cliche, if you think too hard about it. “Spence thought it was better to let her believe whatever.” 

“Hm, I’m sure he did,” Mike said with a dramatic wink, wiggling his brows in that suggestive way that makes you chuckle so desperately that he has a hard time not laughing at your reaction. “You know, I think Doctor Reid has a crush on you.” 

“Ex-Excuse me?” You sputter out, eyes wide at how easy it is for this man to voice something that has been swimming in your head so insistently. 

Spencer having a crush on you is not that wild of a thought, when you think about it objectively. It’s the Proximity Principle. You read about it once back when you were in college and it’s kind of stuck– people are more likely to form close relationships with other people they spend significant amount of time with. Unfortunately, though, you also know that crushes are also dependant on a certain fantastical factor, something that allows humans to project a lot of their needs onto the one that holds their affections. Predicting Spencer’s needs is actually not hard either, and the more he tells you about himself, the more your heart break for the boy that lives inside that man; the one that is afraid of being abandoned, the one that misses his mother dearly, the one sees a family in the coworkers he spends so much time with. You see how you can fulfil this role for him, you’re not blind nor stupid. His smile gives him away, to be very honest, with how bright and big it gets when he notices you waiting for him to get home, sitting in your armchair, reading the book he left for you next to it. Or how he tries to hold it back, that gorgeous, beautiful smile, when he hears you calling his name, all whiny and shy at the same time, to ask him something so ridiculous and out of pocket that he can’t do anything but laugh. 

You are the sense of belonging he never had. 

The same way that he is the sense of consistency you’ve always craved. Though in your case, you know that he is so much more than that. 

In his… well, you will never know until you ask. 

And my god, you’re not ready to ask.

“Yeah, a crush,” Officer Kaper shrugs, walking to the counter and smiling like a kid saying something naughty. “He used to talk about you all the time, before all this. The pretty bookseller.” 

“Now you’re just enjoying making me squirm,” You say, squinting at him despite how his words make your heart race. 

“Maybe I am,” He jokes. “But I’m serious! You two are obviously into each other… right?” 

“Officer–“

“Mike, please!”

“Mike,” You sigh with an attitude, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “Are you trying to profile me?” 

His silence is enough of an answer to make you gasp. 

“It’s not like that–“

“Mike, do you want to be a BAU profiler?!” The way you whisper makes all of this feel like a big secret ever. Your body is leaning over to try and get closer to him, and you’re so excited about knowing this that it makes you bounce a little in your feet. “Why didn’t you say something before? I’m sure Spence would help! You can ask him all the questions and–“

“I already too the FBI entrance exam once and didn’t get in,” He interrupts you with such abruptness that something in the air shifts. This is not fun anymore. It’s tense. “It’s fine. I’m happy doing my part here with the MPD.” 

“You are,” You nod. “You really are. Thank you.” 

That is the last of the small talk for the day, the next interviewee coming in before you can say another peep. 

————————————

“Did you have a good time at the store today?” 

This is the first time that you are not the one doing the waiting. Or the cooking. Or– “Did you clean?” You ask, a bit shocked with how spotless the entire place looks even though the air smells like tomato sauce and… something else? 

“Why do you say this as something so hard to believe?” Spencer is baffled at your expression, laughing incredulously. “I live here! This is my apartment! I’ve been living by myself since I was 18!”

“I just never seen you clean!” You defend yourself with a lighthearted laughter.

“I’m thirty years old!”

“That just means you’re old,” And you two fall back to the usual teasings while you walk around the living room, dropping your coat and bag on the couch, and moving into the kitchen to help with whatever you can. “Oh my! And you even cooked! Careful Spence, you’re spoiling me… I might just want you to make me dinner everyday from now on.” 

Spencer just shrugs with that little shy smile playing on his lips. “I could get used to spoiling you…” 

“I could get used to being spoiled,” You mumble, eyes unwavering from his. Letting the tension of the moment grow, you push your hair behind your ears. “Can I help with anything?” 

“Not really, I made sure to start it really so it would be ready when you came home,” He says and turns into a ball of excitement that is all limbs and fast words. You love him like this and so you listen, like you’ve been yearning to do all day. He tells you that this is a recipe that Rossi taught him a while ago, and the wine is the exact same one he recommended back then, and just as he says, when you look closely to the busy workspace on the kitchen isle, there they are– two glasses half-full. In a very Spence fashion, he goes on and on about the exactness of the ingredients and how the whole idea that cooking is about ‘feeling it’ is kind of stupid, but the more he talks, the more breathless you find yourself. 

There is wine. 

There are entrees, and it looks like Spencer did his due diligence, buying your favourite crackers from the deli nearby. 

There are main dishes, sides, dessert; and you guess it is some sort of a tiramisu, catching the smudges of chocolate powder and coffee by the sink. 

And then there is Spencer. There is Spencer back home early. Spencer wearing his favourite purple sweater. Spencer with his combed hair. Spencer without his phone? Now you are suspicious, looking around with a confused frown on your face.  

“Is everything okay?” 

“Where is your phone?” His satchel is also not where he usually leaves it, gone from it’s perch by the door. 

“My phone?” He asks, sounding as confused as you. “Why do you need my phone?” 

“I don’t, I just never seen you without it.” 

“Oh,” That makes him laugh. “I don’t need it today.”

“Why not?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” Spencer catches you by the shoulder and brings you back to the set dinner. “Just sit down and enjoy this. We finally have some time to spend together.” 

“You would never let anything kill me,” You say so easily that it can’t be anything else other than the truth. “Why don’t you need your phone?” 

He snorts and turns to mix something in one of his many pans. “Because Hotch and Rossi forbade the team to call me tonight. Derek said he’d be on call instead.” 

“That’s awfully nice of Mister Muscles,” You comment offhandedly and there is something about the way you notice Spencer tensing a little that makes your smirk.

“He has a girlfriend, you know.”

“Oh, I know– I heard it all from his baby girl, who is not his girlfriend, but is a big fan of that couple,” You say, happily smiling while munching on a cracker. “Why?”

“Just checking if you knew. A lot of girls are usually… taken… by Derek’s looks and charms, but he’s off the market now. I think Savannah is here to stay.” 

Crinkling your nose at the though of dating Agent Derek Morgan, you quickly shake your head. “God, no, I’m not– No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is objectively handsome, but he’s not my type.” 

“Are we talking about the same Derek Morgan?” He scoffs without turning to you. “He is everyone’s type…”

“Not mine,” You repeat, silently getting up from where you sway your feet. With muted steps, you walk around the kitchen isle to stand behind him, fidgeting with your hands in a moment of unsureness. 

Maybe you are reading this wrong. Not every man that does a nice gesture is interested in you, you know that mainly because you never really believe people are interested in you at all, but it’s getting progressively hard to not look at everything he had done for you and not think it is a date. 

Before you can overthink this, Spencer is moving backwards. “Oh? What is your type, then– oh fuck!” Your arms go around his waist as soon as he bumps into you, and you don’t let him squirm away, even though he tries. “Y/N, wha-what are you doing…?”

Gently, you let your head fall onto his back, forehead pressing close to his nape. Silence reigns until you are ready to speak, but Spencer waits, tense and oh so patient. “Spencer,” You whisper with your broken voice, nerves getting the best of you and making you shake like a chihuahua. “Spencer, is this–“ 

Sweet as ever, his hand moves from the counter, where his knuckles are white with how hard he grips it, to a slow touch to your hand. Brushing his fingers overs your skin, he whispers back. “Is this what?”

“Spencer is this a…” Why can’t you bring yourself to say it? 

Around you, there is noise. You hear the neighbours upstairs, the click-clack of their shoes echoing until they are gone. You hear the heater pipes reading themselves to work through the night once again. You hear the food in front of you two bubbling and sizzling. And my god, do you hear him… you hear his heart, beating, racing, so strong and fast, that you smile to yourself. This is all Spencer– every noise, every shake, every thump and thud of that amazing, loving heart of his.

“It is.” 

Your arms squeeze around him in shock. “I didn’t even say it.”

“By now, you should know you don’t have to,” The soft cadence of his perfect pronunciation tells you that he is feeling confident and calm, and you bask in it for a second or two. Until he hits you with the million dollar question. “If Morgan is not your type, who is?”

“I want to say it, though.”

“Who is your type?”

It’s a weird battle of stubbornness between you two, but you don’t mind. You would fight this war forever, if it meant this– feeling him alive and breathing and laughing. “Let me say it,” You ask, smiling coyly even though he can’t see it. “Please.” His adorable little laughter sends a wave of ripples down his back and you press your face closer to feel it. “Say it then.”

“Spencer Reid, is this a date?” 

“I was hoping it would be,” He says and pauses. “Y/N Y/L/N, am I your type?” 

“I don’t really have a type,” You say slowly, pulling back a little to nudge him to turn around. You only smile when you see his eyes– those curious, curious eyes– that constantly look for answers for his questions. Sometimes, you don’t have answers, but he looks for them anyways. First in one, then the other. Spencer looks at you carefully, slowly, like you are something worth committing to that memory of his by the detail. Like he wants to remember you even when he closes his eyes. You see it, how you make him feel like he belongs, with your open smiles and blinking eyes. But you also see, for the first time, how you are also so much more. “But if I did, it would be you.” 

You are a believer in silver linings. 

And yes, Spencer might just be yours… specially with the way his lips feel against yours. 

---------------------------------------

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[wolfish-chan]

More of my batfam headcanons since you guys liked them

- After Dick moves out, Alfred finds Bruce in Dick’s old bedroom staring aimlessly

- Sometimes, especially in the beginning years as Batman, Bruce has days where he can’t stand to look in the mirror because those aren’t his eyes staring back at him — they’re Martha’s

- There’s a lullaby that all of the family knows because Alfred would sing it to them on their hardest nights, even when they were adults

- Alfred has made the habit of becoming fluent in all the languages his family speaks

- Bruce tries to do the same, but he’s not nearly as fluent. There’s still a lot of proper pronunciation he can’t get right and the kids make fun of him for it constantly

- Alfred speaks with them in their preferred language as often as possible, but usually sticks to English when they’re all together

- Everyone is a polyglot, except Cass, who currently only knows English and ASL

- Cass doesn’t speak often, as she’s still not used to having the ability to, but she wants to become a polyglot eventually, too. Her brothers help her practice

- It’s become a running joke amongst Bruce’s kids that whenever Father’s Day rolls around, they make cards for Alfred instead of Bruce

- Alfred keeps every single one

- No one has any idea what Alfred’s room looks like. Stephanie is convinced he doesn’t have one and that he sleeps in the cave (“I’m telling you guys! He sleeps upside down like a bat!”)

- Bruce is impossible to sneak up on, unless it’s Cass. She likes jumping out from behind corners and spooking him.

- He doesn’t react aside from throwing whatever is in his hands into the air. One time he threw an entire cup of hot coffee in his own face without so much as blinking

- Tim absolutely despises Country music, but Kon listens to it non stop and it’s drives Tim crazy because it’ll get stuck in his head for weeks on end

- Dick and Wally love going to haunted houses together, but only the intense ones where you have to sign a waiver

- They tried to take Starfire with them once, but she knocked out one of the employees when they jumped out at her so she now has a permanent ban

- Dick used to keep those alphabet fridge magnets at his apartment, but he kept finding them rearranged to spell swears and he still has no idea who was doing it

- Tim has a photographic memory which he uses to spout off random facts when someone annoys him

- Bruce: “try that again and I bench you” 13-year old Tim: “well did you know pigeons can be trained to tell the difference between Picasso and Monet paintings” Bruce: “okay”

- All of the younger bats think Jason was the problem child, but it’s actually Dick. Bruce tells them this constantly and they never believe him

- Jason doesn’t visit the manor often, but when he does, he always makes sure no one’s home. He’ll sit in his childhood bedroom that Alfred has kept immaculately clean with all the lights off for hours. He slips out as soon as he hears someone come home

- Jason chooses to ignore that his bedsheets are always newly washed because he knows Alfred is doing it in case he ever decides to come home

- He doesn’t know that Alfred used to do it when Jason was dead, too

- Alfred only ever lets Duke wash dishes because he’s the only one he can trust not to break them

- Dick is ridiculously good at juggling

[cultcameron]

a night out.

a/n: hey y'all! this is my first rafe fic - just had a random idea and decided to go with it

pairing: rafe cameron x reader (established relationship)

summary: you convince your boyfriend rafe to take you to the boneyard for the night.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, drinking, mention of drugs, mention of kinks but nothing explicitly sexual takes place, idk this is mainly just a fluff slice of life piece

“C’mon, Rafe, please… it’ll be fun,” you beg, hoping that he’ll get the stick out of his ass for at least one night. “We haven’t been to the boneyard in forever…”

He just rolls his eyes as he continues to scroll through his texts with Kelce and Topper. With his head against his headboard and his legs stretched out on the bed, you’re trying your best to convince your boyfriend to make a rare appearance with you at a not-Kooks-only party. “You were there last week,” he says, finally shutting his phone off and tossing it onto the bed.

Making eye contact with you, his lovable but sometimes annoying girlfriend, Rafe stares into your eyes, quietly wondering what it’ll take to get out of tonight’s event. But he can tell from the determination in your face that you’re being more pushy than usual. And hey, Rafe Cameron can be a nice boyfriend, contrary to what others may choose to believe. But he wants to see just how far you’ll take this.

Now in a staring competition, you take a breath in, and he feels the ghost of a smirk on his lips, knowing you’re about to promise something else. Grunting in a way he finds absolutely adorable, you mumble, “If you go with me to the boneyard tonight, I’ll come with you to your tee time tomorrow.” 

Not quite wanting you to see that you’ve won yet, he eggs you on, knowing that he’s already accepted your terms. “You know that we’re playing the full course tomorrow, right? Not just the front nine holes?”

“Ugh, yes, I’m aware.”

“And you know that our tee time is at 6:45 AM?”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the past thirty minutes of trying to convince him to accompany you to the boneyard. “Sadly, yes.”

Rafe tilts his head from side to side and waits a whole minute before surrendering. “Fine.”

You stick your legs out from under you and jump to your knees, doing a quick hop before messily kissing Rafe on the cheek. He wipes it off, pretending to be grossed out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat, before grabbing your phone and texting your friends that you’ll see them later tonight. 

Waiting a few seconds, he says with a smirk, “You know I probably would’ve caved eventually, right?”

Without looking up from your phone, you sigh. “Don’t tell me that or else I’m making you come to Sarah’s pregame, too.”

After meeting Sarah, John B., and the rest of your friends at the Chateau, you make your way to the boneyard. With a few shots and an overly-sweet hard seltzer already in your system, you’re buzzed, excited by the fact that Rafe has actually agreed to meet you later. While you know that he used to come to these more often, ever since they’ve become what he describes as “Pogue-infested orgies,” he’s stayed away, perfectly fine with his Kook-only parties on Figure Eight. But every once in a while, he makes his way to the boneyard because he knows that you, his social butterfly of a girlfriend, loves a rare occasion where all the people you adore are gathered in one place (with the promise of no fights—at least not between Rafe and her friends). 

Rafe wasn’t so approving of you being a kook-turned-pogue just like Sarah and her friend Kiara, but over time he got used to it. He’d matured in the past year or so, dropping cocaine and becoming less of a disappointment to Ward. And though you want to believe he did it for himself, Rafe knows wholeheartedly that he wouldn’t be where he is now if you hadn’t believed that he could do it first. So with that in mind, he’s waiting at the boneyard, chatting with Topper and Kelce, sipping on an overpriced beer that he brought from home. 

When he hears the noise of laughter over the cheap speakers increase, he rolls his eyes, immediately recognizing the presence of his sister’s loud boyfriend and his somehow even louder friend JJ. A small grin sneaks onto his face, though, knowing that means you can’t be far behind. 

It’s only when Topper starts annoyingly tapping him that he realizes he’s checked entirely out of the conversation with his friends just so he could find her. He shoves him off playfully, asking “What?” even though he’s sure the conversation is simply not worth his time. 

“I’m trying to tell Kelce here that if he actually respected himself he’d be applying to transfer to UNC. Dude, Clemson is below you.”

Kelce shakes his head, knowing that Topper isn’t wrong but not wanting him to win the argument so quickly. “I’m not not considering it, Top. I’m just saying that it’s not the only school I might apply to–”

“If you say you’re applying to Duke, I might actually hit you,” Topper interrupts, mostly jokingly but with a seriousness that makes Rafe chuckle.

Distracted again by this useless conversation, Rafe jumps a bit when he feels pressure around his midsection, before he recognizes the voice of the woman behind him. “Kelce, don’t listen to them,” you say, clearly tipsy as you squeeze Rafe’s stomach, leaning your head into his back.

Rafe chuckles. “C’mon, Y/N, you know I never do,” Kelce responds, and you make your way in front of Rafe. Leaning against his front now, Rafe encircles your stomach with his left hand, kissing the side of your head in greeting as his right hand continues to hold his beer. 

“Good boy,” you taunt, patting Kelce’s head. Though he knows there’s nothing to worry about, Rafe rolls his eyes. 

You hold the hand on your stomach, squeezing it so that he knows for sure your comment was in jest. You smile, and Rafe looks down at you, the smile on your face never failing to soothe him. You reach for his beer, and he passes it to you, before letting go and sitting down on the log behind him. Kelce and Topper sit down on the sand in front of the fire, but you make no move to join them. Rafe pats the space on the log next to him, but you just shake your head. 

Trying not to whine in front of his friends who would make fun of him endlessly for it, Rafe’s eyebrows bend in confusion, and you take one last sip of his beer before handing it back to him. “JJ’s rolling joints,” you explain, and Rafe nods his head. “Wanna join?” you ask, though she already knows the answer.

Rafe scrunches his nose, and you giggle at the action. You lean down and press a small kiss to his nose, before skipping off to the rest of your friends, very obviously tipsy as you fail to walk in a straight line.

Rafe won’t deny that he’s smoked in the past—and certainly found it relaxing—but after quitting cocaine and experimenting with a few other drugs, he doesn’t really partake. Not only would he refuse to ever smoke a joint rolled by JJ Maybank of all people, but he no longer craves the haze. It makes him anxious, and he loathes the loss of control. Even if he does get wasted on occasion, he never drinks too much when he knows you are at the same party, letting yourself have fun. And he finds that he doesn’t mind it; he enjoys being an extra pair of eyes and ears for you, and even more than that—though he won’t outright say it—he enjoys being the one who gets to take care of you, 

Within thirty minutes, you are baked. You’ve abandoned the alcohol—the beer from the keg is just as nasty as Rafe always warns you it’ll be—and you’re giggling happily with Kiara and Sarah in the sand. Pope, JJ, and John B. are off doing god-knows-what, but you can’t even be bothered to think about them. Laying down on the towel Kiara brought, the three of you are high as kites.

And you can’t be entirely sure how you arrived at the current conversation about pet names, but you don't particularly care.

“I hateeeeee it when JJ calls me ‘baby,’ and I’ve told him that,” Kiara explains, covering her face with her hands. And it’s not that funny, but in your high state, you let out a cackle. “It’s like… dude… I’m not your baby.”

“You call your boyfriend dude?” Sarah asks through her chuckles. 

“Nooooo, it was just an example. But it’s like, if you want to call me something, just call me my name, you know?”

“Okay, but like, does he not call you anything else, when you’re… you know?” you ask, and you’re not sure why she’s acting so shy about it when the three of you talk about sex on a regular basis (it’s probably—no, definitely—the weed).

“Look, my name is Kiara. He calls me Kie, sometimes. But anything else? It’s cringey as hell,” she explains. “Why? Is that weird?”

Sarah turns her head. “Well I wouldn’t say it’s weird, but—”

“Sarah!” you interject.

“What?”

When no one says anything else, you all burst out in laughter again. “Okay, so what does John B. call you when you two… you know?”

Sarah blushes, though you can hardly tell in the darkness. And before you can think twice, the words are out of your mouth. “Oh my god, does John B. have a mommy kink?”

Kiara shrieks and Sarah playfully slaps your shoulder before another round of laughter overtakes the group. “You’re not denying it,” Kie adds, just making you laugh even harder. 

“I mean, hey, we’ve all been there,” you say, though you’re not really sure you believe your own words. 

Kiara turns to you. “Well what does Rafe say when—”

“Ew, Kie, that’s my brother!” Sarah interjects, as she pretends to retch. 

“Then cover your ears, girl!” 

As if she’s a child, Sarah playfully covers her ears. 

Thinking you’re whispering, you answer. “Well, he’s not really big on pet names. Because, you know, it’s Rafe. Sometimes I call him Mr. Grumpy.”

“You call him Mr. Grumpy during sex?!” Kiara asks, and Sarah just groans because apparently she didn’t cover her ears as effectively as she wanted to.

“No, no, no,” you deny, cackling in between your objections. “Not during sex, but like, I don’t know, sometimes he calls me babe.”

Kiara just squints at you. “C’mon, Rafe’s definitely freakier than that.”

“Kiara, I love you, and I know we’re all high as hell, but I refuse to scar Sarah for the rest of her life.” 

“Thank you!” Sarah shouts, before standing up and then laying herself on top of you. “You’re the bestest friend in the world!”

You groan at the added weight, but your annoyance quickly turns into laughter.

Elsewhere, deciding he’s bored and too sober for a conversation this mind-numbing with Topper and Kelce, he gets up from his spot on the log. Leaving his empty beer with the two idiots who are somehow his best friends, Rafe makes his way over to the other side of the beach. He looks around amongst the random splintered groups of Pogues and Kooks and Tourons alike, searching for you. Before he can find you, though, he feels a shove. 

Turning around, his anger at the shove quickly turns into annoyance, when he sees that JJ Maybank of all people is interrupting him. Deciding that JJ can be useful at points, he asks, “JJ, have you seen my girlfriend?”

When JJ takes a second to formulate his words, Rafe can tell that he’s absolutely hammered and that he’ll get no help from the blonde in front of him. “Uh, yeah, I’ve seen her. I think.”

When he doesn’t elaborate further, Rafe continues. “Let me make this easier for you: have you seen her in the last ten minutes?”

Taking a second to think, JJ pats Rafe’s chest with both of his hands, before Rafe shoves him off. “Yeah, she was with Sarah and Kiara, I think,” he answers. 

Rafe nods his head in thanks before turning around to resume his mission, but JJ jumps in front of him, blocking his way. “Hey, dude, do you think that Y/N would ever agree to be our third?”

And Rafe does everything he can to prevent his hands from curling into fists. “No, JJ, I don’t.”

“Woahhhh, man, it was just a question. And, like, me and Kiara have talked about this–”

Before JJ can get into further detail, Rafe lets out an “oof,” when a body collides into his back. 

“Babyyyyyy…” you say, and the tension in his body starts to diffuse. Slowly, you turn around to face him, and JJ’s drunk rants are suddenly not worth listening to. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you smile up at him, eyes red and sleepy from the weed. “I think I love you…”

“You think you love me?” Rafe asks, amused at your state. 

“Well, I think I love you, do you love me?”

“I think me being at this party for you answers that question, babe,” he responds, and you giggle, squeezing him. Rafe leans down to briefly kiss your forehead, before bringing his hands up to your face. Looking right into your eyes, he’s reminded of how much he loves the absolutely baked woman before him. “You are high as hell,” he says.

Giggling into his chest, you don’t argue, sighing in contentment at the way he squeezes you. “‘M sleepy,” you mumble, and Rafe nods his head. 

“Let’s head home,” Rafe suggests. 

“Nooooo, let me sleep here,” you argue, shifting most of your weight onto his chest.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, babe. You’ll be much happier in an actual bed.”

You can’t find it in you to disagree, instead just humming and mumbling a “fine,” that he can barely make out.

“Am I taking anyone else home?” Rafe asks. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Dunno, but she said she’s staying with John B. tonight. She said he’s a teddy bear.” Rafe winces, not needing that mental image of his sister and her boyfriend. “But I said you’re a teddy bear, too.”

Rafe blushes, and he’s glad the crowd around him has dissipated and the beach is too dark for anyone to notice. “Babe, you’re gonna ruin my reputation if you tell people that.”

“I don’t care about your reputa–” you say, not having enough energy to even finish the word.

“Yeah, it’s officially time for us to go home,” he says, watching as you practically fall asleep against him. 

Briiiiiiiiiiiing. Briiiiiiiing. Briiinng.

You groan at the blaring, obnoxious noise, not moving your head from the pillow. “Five more minutes,” you say.

“You already slept through the first alarm, babe,” Rafe says, far too chipper for 6:00 AM. When your eyes move around the room, you notice that Rafe’s already dressed, ready for the golf course. “I even laid out your clothes for you, so all you have to do is brush your teeth and put them on.”

“That’s still so much work,” you say, twisting your face slightly, your brain slowly waking up. Finally lifting your head up, you yawn, and then rub your eyes. “I’m such a good girlfriend,” you say, and Rafe chuckles. 

“Hey, it was your suggestion,” he reminds her.

“I hate you,” you bite back, before swinging your legs out of bed, and stretching your arms above her head. Rafe stares as the hem of your sleep shirt rises with your arms, before shaking his head to not get distracted.

“No, you don’t,” Rafe rebuts, watching as you walk to the bathroom in an almost zombie-like manner.

“Ugh, I hate that you’re right,” you fight back, before shutting the bathroom door behind you, as Rafe laughs. “Stop laughing at my pain,” you add, and he shakes his head.

“If you’re ready in the next five minutes, we can get coffee first,” Rafe shouts.

“Have I ever told you you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

so... please lmk what you think (send an ask, comment, reblog, etc.). I'm a bit nervous about this one because rafe's characterization is... hard to get at points lol. but I feel like this rafe is at least somewhat similar to how he is on the show (like if rafe had a fluffy side idk). anyways hope you enjoyed, and requests are always open <3