#thank u for reading. this has been on my mind lately a few times so wanted to ramble

[fluffydeoxys]

OC stuff is dangerous wdym you just think about that guy and you feel things. You made that thing and it’s come such a long way like they’ve grown and fleshed out and you’re proud of them. And there’s an indescribable feeling of pride and tenderness and passion and fondness. That ☝️thingie is My Thing and I love them

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

HELLO HELLOOOO

i lowkey may have spent a few hours stalking ur page last night and reading ur fics......

AND UR WRITING IS SO GOOD OHMGOSH.

i was wondering if i could request something angsty... (angst is my favorite genre of all time bro i read angst day and night i love it sm)

could you write a skz x 9th member who's usually pretty active and clingy around them?

and maybe smth has been stressing the group out (maybe like they keep messing up the choreography or vocals), and she tries to cheer them up with something like gift baskets (idk)

but like when she goes to hand them out (maybe when work is over for the day?), they snap because they think she's just trying to be playful and clingy again?

this isn't written out the best. im sorry 😓🙏🏻

IF U CANT WRITE THIS I UNDERSTAND BUT THANK YOU IN ADVANCE IF YOU DO!!! :D

I LOVE UR WRITING SM UGH ANYWAYS HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!! 🫶🏻

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH :( !!! Y'all are all truly the sweetest ever :( This was literally so much fun to write hehehe I hope you enjoy!!!

When Your Love is Too Much

Skz x Fem!Reader, OT9 angst Request

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You weren’t oblivious.

You’d felt the tension thick in the air all week, it taut like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap at the slightest tug.

Mistimed choreography during rehearsals. Missed cues in vocal practices. Quiet bickering in the hallways when they thought no one else was listening. You heard it. You saw it. You felt it.

The exhaustion seeped into everything: the way Chan spoke more in sighs than words, the way Minho's patience wore thinner with each passing day, the way even Felix's warm energy had dulled into silence. You could barely recognize your team through the fog.

Even the spaces that once felt familiar- the snack shelf, the dorm kitchen, the group chat- all carried a kind of weight. Replies were slower, more dry. Snappy. Conversations fizzled. Smiles flickered like dying light bulbs. Shared jokes fell flat. Hugs became side pats. Eye contact felt rare.

So you did what you always did when things got bad, when things got stressful: you loved them harder.

They and Stay had always joked that you were the clingiest one in the group- always hanging off someone’s shoulder, always poking someone’s cheek, always chirping some dumb nickname that made the others groan but secretly smile, always wanting to play with someone's hair. You were like a little sibling. The mood-maker. The baby. The constant source of affection.

You didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, you leaned into it. You wore that label proudly. You knew how much your energy meant. You made it your purpose to be a buffer between pressure and burnout. And you couldn't help it because you loved the boys so much. You just had to show it. 

But this time, you wanted to show it in a quieter way. Something that said, I see you. I know it’s hard. You’re not alone.

So you made little gift bags. It was a habit you had picked up more recently. When groups would come back from tour they'd receive little gifts from you, tokens of your appreciation and encouragement.

So you thought maybe the boys would like it. 

And so you made them. One for each of them.

Jisung’s had a stress ball shaped like a cowboy emoji, his favorite late-night snack, some new guitar picks, and his favorite cologne. 

Chan’s had a calming tea blend, a beanie, and a pocket sized notebook for the lyrics he always forgot to write down. Plus a fancy fountain pen. 

Minho’s had tiger balm, a new toy for his cats, and a photo keychain of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori you printed at a machine by the train station. And with such a great price you got another of a silly selfie you two had together. 

Felix’s had honey candy, a couple boxes of those star shaped pimple patches you had seen him use, and lavender and eucalyptus diffusing oils to help him sleep. Plus a plushie of a chicken wing you had happened to stumble by.  Changbin’s had his favorite protein bars, some resistance bands, a funny motivational pin you found that said "Cry, then lift" and little book of "IOU" coupons- you figured if he always performed acts of service to show his love than you could for him. 

Hyunjin’s had packet of cooling eye patches, a new sketch book, his favorite face wash and a new kneaded eraser. 

Jeongin’s had variety box of strawberry, banana, and chocolate milk, a plush keychain shaped like a bread bun, a new case for his headphones and fuzzy socks.

Seungmin’s had a leather bookmark, his favorite gum, a tiny bottle of his favorite fabric freshener for his bedsheets when you guys were on the road, and matching skincare headbands for you and him. (Although he never admitted it his favorite part of touring was your skin care and gossip time).

You knew what made them feel cared for. You knew them.

You spent the whole day sneaking around, tucking the bags behind your back when someone passed, making excuses to duck out during breaks, taping handwritten notes to each one:

"I know it’s been a lot lately. Just wanted to say I love you and I’m proud of you. You’re doing better than you think! Love, Y/N"

You spent an embarrassing amount of time tying ribbons. You even color-coordinated them to match the member’s personalities. You hoped they’d notice.

You didn’t expect much. You didn’t want a big thank-you or dramatic hugs. You just wanted to make them smile. Or ease something. Anything.

When practice finally ended, you waited for the right moment. The room was dimmer now, lights low, bodies slouched in sweaty heaps. Water bottles half-drunk. Shoes untied. Everyone was scattered- exhausted, emotionally frayed, shoulders slumped. But no one was yelling. No one was crying. You figured that was as good a time as any.

So you tiptoed in with your arms full of care and hope and-

“Y/N, not now.”

Chan's voice was sharp. Not as sharp as his movements though. He didn’t even look up. He was wiping sweat from his neck, a towel slung over one shoulder, a boiling frustration visible in every twitch of his body.

You froze.

You hadn’t even spoken yet. Just one step through the door and a few bags still clutched tightly in your hands.

“I- I just thought…”

Jisung groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “God, can you not do the whole hyper-sunshine thing right now?! We’re exhausted.”

Your mouth opened, then closed.

You felt the unmistakable pressure of tears burn behind your eyes. 

Felix wouldn’t meet your eyes. Hyunjin took off his cap, dragged a hand through his hair, muttered something like “why now” under his breath.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t trying to be annoying.”

Minho glanced over from where he was tying his shoes. His voice wasn’t cruel, but it was flat. Tired. “It’s not about that. It’s just… timing, Y/N. Seriously. You need to learn to read the room sometimes. It gets a bit much.”

A pause hung between you all, filled with nothing but the sound of someone’s water bottle tipping over and rolling across the floor.

You felt like you were shrinking. Like the walls had taken a step closer.

They were tired. You knew that. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t trying to make things worse.

But now the ribbon in your hands felt childish. The paper bags looked crumpled and dumb and too colorful for a room that felt so gray.

“…Right,” you mumbled, lowering your arms. “Sorry. I’ll just- leave them here..." You're voice trailed off as Hyunjin was the first to exit the room in frustration followed by Changbin to go calm him down. 

Changbin, the one who usually was the most in tune to your feelings bumping past you without as much as a second glance. 

Jeongin was next, with the rest of the boys in town, Chan closing his laptop rather forcefully before snatching his bag and heading out the room. 

"Make sure to hit the lights when you're done."

By the time you regained yourself, trying to blink away your humiliation and breathe through the heaviness in your chest you opted to dump the bags in the trash bin, sending something akin to a prayer as a silent apology to the janitor who had long since emptied the trash bin when he had realized that you guys would be there late into the evening. 

You watched the bags until you slammed the lid shut. Immediately feeling a wave of guilt at what you had done, and leaning down to try and collect the bags, but noticed that Chan's fountain pen had somehow busted, leaving the other bags and gifts - as well as your hands - stained a purplish black. 

The tears you had tried so hard to stop then poured out, and you felt so helpless in the moment. 

All the frustration and tension from the past few weeks you had sponged up from the boys hit you full force like a bullet train, but manifested in the feeling of heartbreak. 

You had tried to do something nice but instead you had made everything worse. 

You had tried to show your love but it was minimized to you being annoying, clingy,  "hyper-sunshine" as Jisung so kindly put it. 

You felt like a burden. 

One that was obviously too much for the guys to carry. 

That night, you didn’t crawl into anyone’s bed to cuddle like usual. You went straight to yours. It seemed the boys hadn't even noticed you're arrival, with everyone tucked away into their own corners. 

You shut your door gently. Curled up under your blanket. Didn’t even change out of your practice clothes. Just lay there, hoodie still clinging to your back, the scent of effort and sweat and rejection still thick on your skin.

You thought maybe - just maybe someone would notice. That someone might knock, if only to tell you you were being dramatic.

That someone somehow had went to the studio looking for you, only to open the trash and see the bags, would maybe bring one of  them back and joke that the gifts weren't of their interest at all, only for you to tell them they had chosen the wrong one. 

They'd laugh. 

Everything would be happy again. 

But the dorm was silent.

No knocking on Seungmin’s door for a movie. No climbing into Changbin’s lap with a dumb joke. No stealing Minho’s slippers or throwing an orange at Jisung because he refused to drink water.

The dorm felt quieter.

Not because everyone else was being quieter.

But because you were.

Your presence had always been loud. Bright. The soft, persistent hum in the background of their lives. Even when you weren’t speaking, you filled the space- buzzing energy, laughter, the click of your nails on your phone, the shuffle of your socks on the floor.

Now there was just…nothing.

The emptiness stretched longer than it should have. Minute by minute. Until the ache in your chest was a dull pulse. Until even crying felt like effort.

You waited.

And waited.

You stared at the door, hoping to see the light from the hallway spill into the dark. You imagined Felix’s head peeking in. Or Chan sitting by your bed, petting your head the way he did when you couldn’t sleep after a bad day. Or Hyunjin slipping a note under the door with a dumb doodle of you two as penguins.

But it never came.

There was no knock. No text. Not even a group chat ping.

Eventually, your eyes burned too much to stay open.

You rolled over. Pulled the blanket over your head.

Willed yourself to forget how small your love had suddenly started to feel.

Willed yourself to stop hoping.

But the thing about love- real love- is that it lingers. Even when it's quiet. Even when it's bruised.

And tonight yours was screaming with no reply.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy @lezleeferguson-120

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[bruisedboys]

thinking of jacob giving u the best hugs after a long week. maybe your social battery has died and people keep asking u to help them so he scares them off (temporarily)

drew my angel thank you for the request!! love u

jacob black x fem!imprint!reader (reader is shorter than jacob)

Jacob Black has a one track mind when it comes to you. You’re all he ever thinks about, all he cares about, the only thing that really matters to him. He worries about you when you’re not together and clings to you when you are together. He’s totally obsessed, and he likes to think that if it weren’t for the whole imprint thing, he’d still be equally obsessed with you. Who wouldn’t? You’re kind, and smart, and beautiful. You don’t care that he’s a monster and you love his pack family even when they’re a pain in the neck.

Like now, when they’ve dragged him out for patrol and left you at Sam’s, when all Jacob wanted to do tonight was take you home and kiss you stupid. You’ve let him go without a complaint, ‘cos you’re perfect.

Jacob, in his wolf form with the rest of the pack spread out within the woods around him, realises too late that he’s been musing over you in his mind. The others are laughing at him.

Really, Jacob? Paul’s voice says in his head. We haven’t been gone ten minutes.

Shut up, Jacob thinks back, but he stops picturing your face in his mind and tries to focus on the task at hand instead.

A few uneventful hours later, the pack finally heads back to Sam’s. Jacob, the fastest not only because he’s naturally quick, but because he’s desperate to see you, gets there first. Back in his human body he feels much more comfortable, and at least now no one can read his thoughts. He can think about you all he likes without getting an earful for it.

He’s unsurprised when he finds you in the kitchen with Emily.

“Hey,” he nods to Emily, who’s getting something out of the oven, and crosses to where you’re standing over the sink, up to your elbows in suds.

“Hi,” he says fondly, moving up behind you. He pushes an arm across your lower back and dips his head to lay a kiss in your hair. “Missed you.”

You turn to look up at him and smile, and you’re so, so pretty, but your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hello,” you say softly. Your voice is heavy and slow, like someone’s poured honey down your throat. “Missed you, too. Where’s the others?”

“I beat ‘em,” Jacob tells you proudly, at the same time as voices and laughter start trailing in from the living room. Jacob winces. “Just.”

You laugh softly. “Will you dry these for me?” You ask, nodding towards the clean dishes on the bench. “Before it gets too rowdy in here?”

Jacob helps you with the dishes. You were right when you guessed it would get rowdy — the pack are starving and eat the meal you and Emily have made like, well, wolves. Paul’s in a mood tonight, a good one but a loud one, and as a result everyone jokes and laughs and talks over one another. You’re decidedly quiet, and when you’re done eating Jacob pulls you into the hallway, out of the way of all the noise.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks, hands on your upper arms.

You heave a sigh. “I’m really tired,” you admit. You’ve long since given up on trying to hide how you’re feeling from Jacob, because he’s so persistent and stubborn that he always ends up weasling it out of you, anyway. “Not like, sleepy. Just, my battery is really low.“

Jacob frowns and rubs his thumb over the hill of your shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says. It somehow feels like his fault.

You give him a look like you know what he’s thinking. “S’okay,” you say. “Just had a long week, you know?”

Jacob hums. “Yeah, I know. You want a hug?”

You nod like you were waiting for him to ask, and Jacob makes quick work of wrapping you up in his arms, pulling you into his chest like he’s done a million times before. You push your arms around his waist and cling to him, while he rubs your back with a warm hand. He’s tall enough that he can rest his chin atop your head so he does, and lets you push your face into his neck, your mouth warm where it presses against his skin.

You sigh softly and go almost completely limp in his arms.

“Thanks,” you say, muffled.

Jacob opens his mouth to say let’s go home, but then Embry appears, calling your name in an unnecessarily loud voice.

“Y/N! Can you come help me— oh.”

He stops short at the sight of you limp as a ragdoll in Jacob’s arms. That, plus the look Jacob gives him.

“What, Em?” Jacob says, and it comes out a bit more harsh than he’d intended. He amends, “Sorry, she’s really tired. What do you want?”

Embry has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Never mind,” he says.

You pull your face from Jacob’s neck, one arm still curved around his waist. “What is it, Embry? I can help, it’s fine—”

“No you can’t, we’re going home now,” Jacob interrupts, throwing you a look, annoyed and endeared by how sweet you are. “Ask someone else,” he tells Embry bluntly.

He’s pretty sure Embry rolls his eyes as he leaves, but he doesn’t care. You turn to look at him once Embry is gone.

“You’re mean,” you say, but you make it sound like I love you, and you wrap your arms around him again.

“And you’re tired,” he says back, ducking his head to press a quick kiss to your forehead. He pulls away but rubs your arm as he goes. “C’mon, I really am gonna take you home now, okay? Dad’ll already be asleep so it’ll just be me and you.”

You raise both eyebrows, pleased. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, feigning intrigue.

Jacob grins. “Whatever you want it to mean, sweetheart,” he says, though he hopes he’ll get to kiss you stupid like he’s been wanting to do all night.

[lastofdanny]

under your skin | part two

pairing: manny alvarez x f!reader, enemies to lovers

summary: tension fills the air as you and manny struggle with your feelings after the kiss.

a/n: thanks to everyone who read and liked part 1!! ♡ reader is kinda annoying in this and i loved writing manny as a softie (that couldn't be more far from reality lol. why is he so hot???? really like WHY) anyway, i had never written something so long in english before since its not my first language so i struggled a bit w this ending and for that i want to thank @littlemsramirez for the suggestion to the story ! i hope you all enjoy. i have a few other manny fics coming soon, so if anyone has ideas/requests u can send them to me ♡

part one

After the kiss with Manny, everything had shifted. Sure, you hadn’t talked about it. You didn’t really know how to. But every glance, every touch, even the smallest brush of your hands against his seemed to carry a different weight now. 

But the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about him. And with it came flashes of the first days with Manny: how smug he was when he first introduced himself, calling you cariño before even knowing your name, the way he always found a reason to sit too close or brush past you with that infuriating grin.

You remembered thinking he was the most annoying person you'd ever met: loud, cocky, relentless. But even then, before you’d admit it, part of you had started to look forward to seeing him. Maybe that’s what made it all so confusing – maybe the kiss wasn’t so sudden after all. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had always been something more, something deeper you hadn’t been willing to face. 

The thought left you unsettled, and you quickly shook it off. Whatever it was, you needed to stay away from him before it got even messier.

But the worst part is that Manny wasn’t the type to just let it go.

“Morning, mi amor,” Manny’s voice sounded behind you as you walked into the base one morning.

You didn’t even bother turning around, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground as you grabbed your gear.

“I’m busy,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Is that so?” Manny asked. “You didn’t look busy when you were staring at the floor there. Maybe you were just thinking about that kiss, huh?”

You clenched your jaw, your heart skipping a beat at the mention of it. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but refused to let him see it.

You ignored his words, walking away as quickly as you could without running. But as you did, you could feel his gaze on you. As always. 

The next few days were an endless loop. You did everything you could to avoid Manny, taking different routes to patrol, staying busy with paperwork or helping others with tasks. But no matter what you did, his words and presence still lingered in the back of your mind.

You could feel the tension every time he was near, and this time, it wasn’t just the teasing or the flirtation. It was the unspoken understanding that there was something more, that you weren't willing to admit yet.

"Trying to avoid me, cariño?" Manny said one afternoon, leaning against the wall as you passed. His voice was light, but the challenge in his eyes was unmistakable.

You gritted your teeth. "And yet, here you are, annoying me again."

He chuckled, and said, "You know, if you ever want to pick up where we left off, all you have to do is ask."

The two of you were alone in the woods days later, in a patrol you couldn't escape from.

“You’re really gonna pretend it didn’t happen,” he said casually, “or you just waiting for me to bring it up?”

You didn’t turn around. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“That kiss. Y’know. The one where you practically melted into me.”

You shot him a quick look, heart pounding. “Don’t start.”

“Too late," He picked up the pace until he was at your side, grinning. “I mean, technically, you started it. You’re the one who pulled me in.”

“You kissed me,” you snapped without looking at him. He ducked under it, still talking. 

“Oh, sure, but only after you gave me that look. You know, the one  like you were two seconds from tearing my shirt off.”

You stopped walking. So did he.

“That was just adrenaline,” you said flatly. 

He stepped in front of you now, cocking his head. “Right. Adrenaline. Just a little life-or-death make out session. Totally casual. Happens all the time.”

“It’s not a big deal, Manny."

“Then why are you getting all tense every time I get close to you?”

“I’m not,”

You scowled, trying to brush past him, but he shifted, blocking your path.

“Just admit that you’ve been thinking about it,"

You stayed quiet.

“I know I have,” he added, a little softer now. “More than I should.”

Your heart betrayed you with a hard, stupid thump.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a playful whisper.  “Adrenaline, huh? I’ll keep that in mind for next time we’re in a life-or-death situation. Maybe I’ll kiss you again, you know, just to test the theory.”

You stood in front of the roster board the next day, eyes scanning the new patrol assignments. When you saw Derek’s name next to yours, a strange mix of relief and anxiety settled in your chest. The tension with Manny had been building, and switching partners had seemed like the only option to avoid it.

“What’s this? You've got a new partner today, cariño?”

You turned to find Manny walking up to you, his usual grin firmly in place, though this time, there was something sharper in his eyes.

You didn’t answer.

Derek showed up a minute later, all eager confidence. “Hey. Guess we’re paired up today."

“Who put this on the board?” Manny asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I volunteered,” Derek said. “She wanted to switch.”

Manny’s gaze now flicked between you and Derek, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he leaned in a little, keeping his tone casual but laced with an undercurrent of something much deeper. 

“You sure he’s the best choice?” he asked. “I mean, after our... incident the other day, I thought you’d want to spend some more time with me. You know, to work things out.”

Your cheeks flushed at the mention of it, but you refused to look at him. “It’s just patrol, Manny,” you said, a little too defensively.

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “Hope you warned him you have a thing for kissing your patrol partners.”

“Manny,"

“What?” He grinned. “Just trying to keep the new guy informed. Wouldn’t want him getting caught off guard when you lean in all dramatic at sunset or whatever.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Manny just smirked, straightened, and gave Derek a mock-salute.

“Have fun. Just try not to spend the whole time thinking about me.”

With that, he turned and walked off, hands in his pockets – but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder. That look said everything his teasing didn’t: he cared. Maybe more than he wanted to show.

After the shift ended, you were walking back when you heard his voice.

“You’re really doing this, huh?” Manny’s voice had a sharp edge now, and you could feel the weight of his frustration in the air.

You stopped, but didn’t look at him. “What now, Manny?”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path, forcing you to meet his eyes. The tension in his jaw was unmistakable, and his usual easy smile was completely gone. “Acting like I don't exist. Switching partners like that.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t lie,” he said. “You did it on purpose. You’ve been dodging me like that for weeks now."

“I just thought it’d be easier,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manny stepped closer. “I don’t get it,” he continued, softer this time. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Nothing!” You said it louder than you intended, but the words came out before you could stop them. “I just... I need space.”

Manny stepped closer, his face softening, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t let up. “I don’t want space,” he said quietly. “I want you. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say it.”

His hand reached up, fingers brushing your cheek as you felt the warmth of his touch. Your heart beat harder, faster, like it was trying to tell you something, something you weren’t ready to hear – or maybe you were just afraid to.

The air between you pulsed with tension, with closeness, with the weight of every unsaid thing. And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t hesitant this time – it was firm, full of everything he hadn’t said aloud. His hands cradled your face and his mouth moved against yours like he was trying to convince you that whatever you were running from didn’t have to win.

The pressure of his lips became more urgent, more sure. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance for even a second longer. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, caught in the warmth of the moment, the intensity of everything left unsaid.

When the kiss finally broke, your chest heaved, both of you gasping for air. Manny’s gaze softened, but still didn’t lose that same intensity.

“Let me know when you're done pretending,” he murmured, his voice low, almost defeated. 

Then he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling in the quiet space between you.

You didn’t see him much after that. The missions kept him busy, and you distracted yourself with work, hoping that the distance would somehow make the confusion go away. It didn’t. If anything, it only made the ache in your chest grow sharper.

Then, the message came.

Manny's hurt. He’s not coming back with the rest of the group. When you heard it, all the words you hadn’t been able to say to him came rushing back, and the urge to find him and make sure he was really okay was too strong to ignore.

You reached the rendezvous point, your heart pounding as you scanned the area. It was too quiet, and you were starting to feel the panic rise up your spine when you found him, looking way too calm for someone who’d supposedly been injured.

His shirt was ripped and there was a trail of blood down his cheek, few scrapes marked his arms, but nothing more. You crossed your arms, masking the relief with a sharp tone.

“What the hell, Manny? They said you were hurt!"

Manny chuckled, not even bothering to get up. “Oh, you know. Just a few scratches. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, clearly enjoying the fact that you were so flustered. “Though I gotta admit I knew you’d come look for me, cariño.”

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you shot back, trying to keep your composure. “I was just… checking. You know, because they said you were hurt.”

He leaned back against the rock, a cocky smirk on his lips, but didn't say anything. He just looked at you instead, his eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“What?”

“That I’d come look for you.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly fooling anyone trying to push me away.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he teased, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’ve been doing it for weeks."

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you harder than you expected.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you could stop yourself. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Manny raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? A confession? Are you about to pour your heart out to me, cariño?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can’t you be serious for a second?”

“No, this is important., His voice was weak but playful. “I want to hear you say it. For the record.”

You leaned down slowly, pressing your forehead to his, feeling his breath fan warm against your lips.

“I like you,” you whispered. “And if you ever do something that reckless again without me there to yell at you after, I’ll..”

“You gonna punish me, cariño?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Maybe.”

He chuckled, “Mmm, I’ll take my chances. Kinda looking forward to see what you have in mind.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to his, silencing that smug grin in the best way you knew how. The kiss was warm, firm, and laced with everything you’d been holding back. His hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer with a low, pleased hum, and when you finally pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded, his smile softer but no less playful.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice light. “But hey, I’m not complaining. About time you realized what I knew since day one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “You’re really proud of yourself right now, huh?”

Manny leaned in just a little, his grin lazy and smug. “Of course. I always knew you’d come around eventually. I’m very persuasive.”

“Oh, that what we’re calling constant flirting and ridiculous nicknames?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

You sighed dramatically, but your heart betrayed you, speeding up at his proximity. “Guess you got me, then.”

“Good. Cause I’m all yours, cariño.”

[erenjaegerwifee]

Omg, you write so good!

Can you write something about Neteyam a little possessive about his secret crush towards his human female friend? I WOULD LOVE THAT SJSJSJS

OFC I CAN! This is such a fucking cute idea!!!!

✧₊⁺ Crushing

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of explicit actions

Disclaimer: my characters are aged-up! If u are uncomfortable reading don’t both interacting with my account

Neteyam grew up with you. From since you were a babygirl he was always around or with you, neteyam was fascinated with your small form. The way you learned to walk long after he did even though you were only months apart.

He thought you were weird at first cause you were so small and not blue like him. You had no tail and no point ears, no golden eyes instead you were kind of dull, the only thing you both had in common was your black hair.

Other than that it was wavy not straight like him, your eyes were a different color from him, your skin was brown? A shade of brown? He didn’t know the name of the color. But one thing he does know, you were absolutely beautiful.

In your teen years when you went through puberty you didn’t think much off it, your body was changing but you changed with it so it wasn’t so shocking to you, but neteyam had a hard time keep his eyes to himself. The way your scent changed slightly every month, your body filled out in ways he didn’t know was possible.

He never knew why you stopped wearing na’vi clothes until he saw you in a little tank top and shorts running around with Yuk. The way you tits bounces in your bra, the way your thighs were squeezed into your little denim shorts, he knew your body would just fall right out of na’vi clothing.

Yet still he found you amazingly beautiful. It was weird but it worked out, he would never get to truly mate with you but his mother already liked you. You were probably the only human girl she allowed around. It was perfect for him yet, Neteyam was so scared to tell you how he felt.

What if you thought he was too big and scary? What if you laughed in his face at the thought of being with him? What if you didn’t like him back? His thoughts pledged his mind, he didn’t want to embarrass himself, he didn’t want to face rejection of the first women he had every loved.

But still, his mind never drifted to another woman. Even his family saw the way he looked at you, like you were his very own gift from Eywa. Neteyam had been the only person that put himself in danger to protect you and no matter how much cuts or bruises he received he was happy with himself knowing he kept his special girl safe.

Neteyam loved the way you tied your hair up, he’d spend hours out of his day watching you style your long pretty hair if he could, and he has a few times. Watching the way you’d make different braided hairstyles or ponytails you called them. He especially loved how cute you’d look when you got mad the Pandora humidity made your hair look like you’ve been electrocuted. He thought it was adorable the way you’d continuously run your hands over your head and nothing seems to keep down the frizzy mess.

He loved your sense of human style even though you didn’t have much to work with the clothes you would make from repurposed avatar clothing when they joined the Omatikaya clan and didn’t need them anymore. Or when you would use big petals and leaves to make cute tops and skirts that always seems to fit your figure perfectly.

Neteyam was undeniably in love with you and he would do anything for you to love him back. Tonight, he walked his way to the human outpost, it was late at night but thanks to the humans moving closer to the clan, your bedroom was only about 4 minutes away from his hut.

Neteyam knows you stay awake all hours in the night so he thought nothing off it when he saw the faith glow through your bedroom window. You had a nice view of the forest from there, it faced away from the clan so people couldn’t see you unless they looked. Neteyam made a habit of checking on you before bed so he went to the window before anything else.

He walked up to it you were in clear view, luckily since your bedroom light was on your window acted as a mirror for you, but he could see you clear as day from outside. He watched you lay in bed in an oversized t-shirt undoubtedly an avatar’s, your legs were bare and shiny, you shaved. Your hair was loose, it curled so pretty over your shoulders and you laid on a big pillow snuggled up to your fluffy sheets and blankets.

You looked like you were drowning under all that warmth you looked adorable. When you got up off your bed and walked across the room to your desk, your back turned to him letting him see the back of your t-shirt.

Neteyam was not prepared. Your t-shirt stopped right under your ass and you bent over to pick up something from the floor displaying for him your pretty pink panties that were riding up your ass just perfectly.

It’s been a long time since neteyam saw some skin on you, it make his cock harden just seeing a sliver of what no one else does. He dropped to him knees by your window sill now only his face was in view, not that you could see him. You were so sexy for a little thing. He wants so bad to lay it down on you.

Neteyam pressed his forehead up against the window starting at your plump pretty ass until you stood back up. Only then did he blink refocusing on your t-shirt and then it caught his eye.

His brain lagged taking in the word he knew all too well, on the back on your shirt was the word big and bold ‘SULLY’ it was undoubtedly his father’s old t-shirt but seeing you sport something with his name on it made him shiver.

You had to be his, you’re literally carrying his name. He swears if you pumped you full of his babies it would be when you had his name written down on your skin, maybe he could convince you to get one of those human tattoos, he had hear they were permanent. He’d love to fuck into you seeing his name displayed pretty on your lower back over your ass, of above your collarbone so he can watch you tits bouce and see his ownership at the same time.

You have to be his. He has to tell you how he feels. He can’t let you get away and fall for someone else no. If Eywa didn’t give him a sign you were meant to belong to him before, she did now. Or at least that’s what he got out of tonight.

Tags: @rivatar @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp

✨ Part 2 is out! Here!

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃

Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. 💀

Pairings: Baizhu x male reader

Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification

Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.

Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.

And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…

That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.

It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.

As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.

Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.

“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”

The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.

“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”

“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”

You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.

Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.

“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.

With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.

“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”

You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”

“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.

More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.

The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”

As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.

While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”

The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.

The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”

“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.

You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…

With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”

While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”

Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.

While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.

“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.

“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.

“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.

Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds being a girl dad

Decided to write it down because I'm bored 🥱 here is my list of ideas that can use but just tag me on it so I can also enjoy the story

Xavier :

Calls your daughter lil princess

Has his hair color and your eyes. Inherited his cute lil pout

Xavier would totally get everything his lil princess wants. Want that new toy? Or how about the new plushie at the arcade machine? Sure, he'll get it right away

Xavier would love to read bed time stories to his daughter every night. Turning off the light while turning on the fairy lights acting as twinkling like stars in the night sky in your daughter room.

He definitely built a fort for her

Has two pets rabbits named Mr.Bunbun and Mrs.Bunbun ( they are married in your daughter mind )and one goldfish named Goldie had Goldie replace every month bec it keeps dying because of your clueless daughter that keep killing the fish

"Daddy why is Goldie floating? " your daughter said curiously " it's because he's taking his afternoon naps , and time for yours too " Xavier lifted his lil princess, carrying her too her room. After she's asleep Xavier calls you " we need another goldfish" he scratches his head " what is it this time?" You asked on there other line " she put a heater in the thank to keep him warm "you sigh, a hand on your hip as you told him frustrated " I told you not to give her a goldfish, poor fish "

He could tell his daughter the truth but couldn't stand to break her lil heart. And it isn't that he didn't keep an eye on her while she played with the fish it's just he took a 5 minutes nap , it wouldn't hurt right? Well that proofed him wrong...

Would like to bake cookies with her ( with you watching them of course )

Would miss his lil princess and you too during every mission . He can't wait to go home to his loving family

If you both are given a mission and both of u can't look after your daughter, she gladly stay with uncle Jeremiah. During the stay with her uncle she learns some gardening skills and is pretty good at taking care of plants

Xavier is of course jealous of Jeremiah, seeing his daughter talking about how the few days has been with her favorite uncle

" princess who do u like more your dad or your stupid uncle Jeremiah? " he said serious

" daddy don't say that about uncle Jeremiah! " good thing she has your personality always ready to defend the person she care and love. But Xavier couldn't help feel his heart ache but also feel proud, his lil princess stood up for his uncle but going against her dad

" uncle Jeremiah is a great uncle and smart tooo ! He's not stupid " she said to her dad " uncle Jeremiah is my favorite uncle! But you are my dad and the best daddy I could ask for "

You ended up ending the recording to Jeremiah to let him witness this scene too

Zayne

His office would be also his daughter office. After school your daughter would walk to Akso hospital since the kindergarten isn't far from the hospital just a 5min walk. But sometimes zayne would be free , so he would pick up his daughter if he didn't had a appointment at that time.

also would occasionally ( almost everytime he pick up his daughter ) bring your daughter to the bakery next a few buildings from the kindergarten .

Inherited his father's sweet tooth

Also hates the dentist

He will watch his daughter sit in his office doing her homework in her lil desk next to him. Also has a picture frame of the family photo that you didn't take a few days ago

The reason why zayne daughter would be at his work is because sometimes you can't pick up your daughter during the day is because your busy with mission and work.

After work you pick up your daughter at your husband work " bye daddy see you soon " she waved and your husband nodded " see you at home "

But sometimes zayne would come home late at night and your daughter would already be asleep by then. Also the reason why she likes going to her dad work place, is to spend time with him when at night she bearly see him or spend time with

When zayne would have a surgery your daughter would patiently do her homework ,if she's done she would go around the hospital lobby and talk to the nurses and doctors

The nurses and doctors love your cute lil daughter

" oh how she looks like Dr. Zayne so much "

" she also has Dr. Zayne calm expression "

Your daughter would have a personal ID badge hanging around her neck that you help her make . Just letting the other nurses and doctors know that she Dr.zayne daughter and not a lost kid

Zayne would double check himself if he has any blood on himself or the smell of blood on him before going to see his daughter after the surgery

Zayne can't help it if his daughter ask for another piece of his macarons " ok, you can have another one but just dont tell your mom. You can it have a maximum of 3 per day and you already have 5 "

"but daddy the same goes for you too and your already have 6 !" Your husband chuckled "alright this will be our lil secret"

" what little secrets ?" You lean against the doorframe , folding your arms as you watch both of them eating, almost finishing dozen macarons

Girl dad zayne would deny that he always saying yes to his daughter " oh really? What about last week Saturday? U said no more sugar but you bought her a snow cone" you tease your husband

" daddy can I have that snow cone? It's a double scoop and it looks like a snowman ! And best of all I can share with you ! "

" at least she has a good reason " your husband replied pushing his glasses to the brim of is node" oh just admit it Dr.zayne ~ "he smile and looked at your sleeping daughter on his office couch

Rafayell

Would spoil his lil sea guppy rotten

" daddy can I have a pony? " already bought one a few seconds ago when he say her drawing a pony. Bought a pony the same as the drawing

Want some plushies? No worries he called Thomas to get her the most cutest plushy and limited to edition

But your daughter love the plushies her had won for her at the arcade especially the pufferfish and the birb

Would teach your daughter about lemurians language. Also tell her stories about the lemurians

" daddy do you think I can turn my legs into a lemurian fish tailtoo? " her eyes sparked looking at her dad

" of course you can. You are half lemurian and human after all " rafayell ruffled her hair

The day she transformed into a lamurian in the bathtub is the day rafayell cheered for her because he didn't know if she could actually turn her legs into a fish tail

Would take her to the beach so she can swim in the ocean and get used to the salty waters . But also for some family fun time

You joined them watching how rafayell teach your daughter to swim in her new found form. You don't have a fish tail but you can still breath under water because of the sea god. It was fun watching your daughter struggle a bit

" hold my hand it be easier for your to balance yourself " your husband hold your daughter hand preventting from her turning upside down

" ugh, daddy this is worst then learning how to ride a bike! " your daughter wine, you couldn't help but laugh at them

Rafayell would bring your daughter to the art exhibit .

Also have a painting named after her and inspired by her . But that isn't for sale that's for the living room at home

Your daughter has a lot of dresses like a lot and same for shoes and jewelry. Rafayell like to dress his daughter up

First class trips with her daddy

Rafayell would definitely ride his sports car to pick her up at kindergarten.

" now wheres my little guppy? " he said standing at the door from the class she's in " daddy ! "

Sylus

Would let your daughter go on busssnins meeting with him because she asked him. At first he said no because it's a dangerous mission . But your daughter is cunning which she got from you of course " but I have daddy to protect me there, he's the strongest and he's the best so nothing will happen to me " that boosted his ego

You where furious when you found out that your husband took your daughter to a dangerous meeting that ended blowing up the whole building " but sweetie, it's nothing I can't handle, she save and onharmed "

" you let her hold a gun."

" that's because she hated the merchant " sylus said confidently

Looks like onychinus had a new leader soon after her dad step down

Would let her dress Mephisto up

Sylus would teach your daughter some boxing moves

Would try to fit all of you guys in his motorcycle , your daughter in front , placing her hand on the handle while your husband hand on top of hers and you always being sylus backpack

Would have customized helmets with your names on it

Sylus would let her daughter play with his hair and stick some stickers on him and if he feels generous ( which he is toward you and your daughter ) he'll even let your daughter put make up on him

Luke and Kieran would be the best uncles . Would like to join her uncles with pranks

Love doing karaoke with her dad .both can't sing well and are death ears

Sylus would buy the whole arcade just for her daughter

Plays kitty cards with your daughter and always lose on purpose

Sylus is definitely the type to give anything her daughter fancies. She looked firearm for 5 second? Is already here with her name on it of course with no bullets . Or else he wouldn't have hear the end of it from you

Would definitely sign a no boyfriend till your married

Like and karien are your daughter personal bodyguards

Would prepare a fancy ball for her birthday

Would play the piano for her also teaching her some keys

End up hitting the post button while middle way writing 😅sorry for grammar mistakes and words.

[vanesycho]

f!reader x bf!vernon | m.list | wc:0,8k

request:hii can i please request a vernon imagine where svt doesnt believe theyre dating reader because hes so nonchalant but svt finds them either in a sweet or sexual position or something? its up to you! thank you <3

a/n: I apologize to the person who wrote the request. your request was deleted because the tags did not work in a way that I did not understand and I have to repost it...I hope it works this time.

I added a little texting at the end to make it a little more fun, enjoy reading!

"From the world to Vernon." Vernon looked up at Seungkwan's call "Oh sorry, were you saying something?" Kwan rolled his eyes, turned to the front and started muttering to himself "Oh really...What's wrong with this kid, his mind has been elsewhere lately." Jeonghan who entered the room answered him "Don't mess with him, he's probably texting with his girlfriend." It was obvious that the sentence he said was in a mocking tone and a few members laughed at this but Vernon didn't care and continued texting you. He didn't feel the need to prove to anyone that he was dating you because he didn't want to deal with it, and deep down he knew that they were all wrong and he was going to continue this as long as he could.

The rest of the day was spent both texting you and chatting with the others. When it was evening the next day, you were going to his house to surprise him because you missed him. In the meantime, a few members were gathered at his house watching a movie, unaware of everything. Dino, who was bothered by the notifications on Vernon's phone, whined "Yah! Either turn that sound down or answer." Vernon picked up his phone and smiled when he saw that the message was from you.

'I'm outside the door.'

'I missed you...can I see you for a few seconds?'

He cleared his throat and stood up, drawing attention to himself for a moment. "Go on without me, I have something to do, I'll be back." When he realized that they were continuing with the movie without questioning it, he went to the door. You ran to him as soon as you saw him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms that had been waiting for you found your waist and pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck and breathing in your scent. "I missed you." He mumbled, you chuckled and when you pulled away, he kissed you on the lips. "Did I come at the wrong time?" You knew the others were home so you didn't want to disturb them, but your longing for him got the better of you.

Vernon shook his head, one hand moving to your cheek, feeling him stroke it with his thumb. “It’s okay, after all, they wouldn’t believe me even if I said my girlfriend was here.” You laughed at that, he would send you a few voice recordings when they talked about Vernon lying, and it was definitely worth listening to. “So..When are we going to prove this to them?” you asked, although you didn’t mind it, you were curious about how far he would go. Vernon closed the gap between you again, his hand on your cheek moving to your neck, slowly pulling you closer to him as he murmured “I don’t really care if they believe me or not. All I care about is you right here with me, so just let me take care of you.”

His lips brushed gently against yours, and you couldn’t wait any longer because of your longing for him, and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, kissing his lips more passionately. He laughed at how hungry you were in between the kisses, and didn’t hesitate to respond. He sucked your lower lip gently and his hand started to roam your body to feel every part of you that he missed. You opened your mouth and brushed your tongue against his-

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??" Hoshi's shout echoed in the dark street, you backed away in fear and turned to the owner of the voice. His shout must have caught the attention of the other members because some of them opened the door and moved towards you while others settled at the window. "I think it's time they believe us now." You looked at the eyes looking at you as Vernon spoke as if nothing had happened. Dino was the last one to leave the door and complained "The movie is half-finished, can't you be surprised by this later?" When the others ignored him, he muttered a curse and went back to watch it alone. Kwan pursed his lips and folded his arms "So you weren't lying the whole time?" Vernon frowned in disbelief "Why would I lie about this?" And you guys tried to understand what he was saying by stealing glances at each other as Kwan continued to rant.

Once the strange event was over, you were invited to watch the rest of the movie. You were curled up on the couch with Vernon, your head on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder, he kissed your head, and still unused to this situation, the others exchanged strange glances. At least he wouldn’t be made fun of anymore, even if it was in a strange way.

[dearharriet]

okay hello hi me again with a james potter request if u feel like it 🦌🦌 how about a drabble about reader calling james a pet name for the first time like baby or honey or something and he just melts on the spot and gives her the biggest lovesick puppy eyes ever and then begs her to always call him that and refuses to answer to james because ‘that’s baby to u!!!!!’ Or something<333 love u hope you’re well

ty for the request! <3 (wc: 495) fem!r

“It says we could use banana as a substitute for egg, did you know?”

You shuffle to James’ side as he pauses in the baking aisle, craning your neck to see his phone over the bulky shoulder blocking it.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, “I’ve seen that.”

James turns his wrinkled nose your way, a wink of amusement in his eyes.

“That cannot be good.”

Scanning the row of mixes beside the cart, you palm his side, his shirt soft and thin under your fingers.

“No, it’s kind of alright, actually.”

You blink back up at him, smiling, even when his big eyes bug even further under his glasses.

“You’ve tried it?”

Laughing, you encourage the cart forward again, and James with it.

“Can you see what we need next, please?” You croon. James’ eyes soften, and he looks back to the recipe page as he walks.

“Er, do we have baking powder?”

“Yes.”

He scrolls an inch further.

“Lemons?”

“I was thinking we’d just use that lemon juice in the fridge,” you say, shrugging.

“What?” James stops walking. “Baby, no.”

He steers the cart around, making a break for the produce section. “We are making these cupcakes right, my darling. I need all the best ingredients.”

You just laugh and trail after him. “It really won’t make a difference…”

As you catch up to him, James is hoisting a full netted pouch of lemons out of its sales basket.

“Jamie, we only need one,” you say, a bemused smile pulling at your lips. He looks to you, still holding the lemons up like a fresh catch.

“That’s quitter’s talk. We just need to make more cupcakes, s’all.”

He drops them in the cart, and then creeps toward you.

“Whatever you say, baby,” you tease.

James freezes before he can reach you. A slippery grin parts his lips, creasing around his eyes.

“What’d you call me?”

Flipping back through your words, you realize what you’ve said too late. In your mind, James and baby have been synonymous for a good few weeks now, you’ve just been trying to play it cool, and for good reason.

James will never let this go.

“I—” You huff, relenting. “Baby.”

In a split second James is around you, lemons forgotten in exchange for a snug embrace that warms your cheeks.

“James, we’re in public.”

“Who?” He asks, a grin pressed against your temple, and a strong hand between your shoulder blades.

Cushioning your chin on his chest, you look up at him. James has bigger heart eyes now than he did on your first date, which is saying a lot.

You know the two of you look painfully smitten, and that any passersby might be bothered by the PDA, but it’s hard to stifle your affection for James.

“Can you call me that more often?” He asks gently, so lovelorn that it nips your heart a little. “I really liked it.”

And how can you say no to that?

+

thank u for reading! xx

masterlist

[dwaekkicidal]

thoughts on owner channie w puppy seungmin & kitty reader w owner lino  >ᴗ<?

the way i started pacing my room after reading this and waiting for my computer to turn on so i could write something LMFAO-

also u must be in my walls or something because ive been going batshit crazy over hybrids lately but i havent told anybody? get out of my head???

do NAWT ask me how this has 1.4k words... i will not explain myself.

nsfw below the cut» x reader mainly but mxm at the very end

anywhoooo.... onwards!

so lets just say that we have owner!channie who doesn't know what to do when his puppy!seungmin becomes a brat all of a sudden. he's growling at every male hybrid he looks at, not listening when channie tells him to do something, and even humping + cumming on a pillow or two (definitely more than that but channie doesn't have to know that)

and then he's meeting up with his best friend, kitty-owner!lino, who mocks his best friend for not being able to prove himself as the "head dog of the house"

he keeps up this teasing up until channie describes a few more behaviors that rings alarms in lino's head and he realizes that his friend's stupid mutt is just going into heat!! and lil ol' channie didn't think that far ahead so he's absolutely not prepared to deal with his puppy's first heat alone

but then lino reminds him that he has a pretty, well-behaved kitty sitting at home with no mate and her own heat on its way soon~ so they agree to have them meet and plan everything out

the first time you meet, seungmin is absolutely losing his shit >< he can smell you before he sees you and you just so smell so. sweet. his heat makes the smell a million times worse and he just wants to eat you alive. more figuratively than literally but he doesn't think he would mind taking a chomp or two-

and channie is absolutely mind-boggled that the stupid brat he's been dealing with all week is suddenly being good, all thanks to the mere presence of another hybrid.

little does he know it's only thanks to how hard seungmin is biting his cheek so that he doesn't bend you over right here, right now in the middle of this park where everybody would see

after that they move fast, thanks to seungmin's heat starting early, and lino prepares you as much as he can before helping you settle into channie's guest room

channie even put a mini fridge in there- filled it to the brim with both of your favorite drinks+water, put a huge stack of blankets and spare clothes on top of the dresser, and filled a few dresser drawers to the brim with snacks

channie took the week off of work while lino opted to "work from home" and they stayed close by, camping out in the living room together and "reluctantly" listening closely so they could hear any possible calls for help from either of you

but no matter how much preparation they made, they were not in the slightest prepared for how almost feral seungmin became

the first few hours were the most unbearable, it was hard for you to get used to this stupid, insatiable mutt and his unnecessarily big knot. but you did get used to it eventually!

it only took multiple rounds and your poor cunt getting overfilled with his cum, much to his dismay. it only made him angry and pushed him to fuck into you even harder as he whined and complained about how you "need to take it better" so he could fuck a litter or two into you.

& both men could hear the growling as well as the plap plap plap of seungmin's balls hitting your poor, abused cunt >< your moans and cries bleeding through the walls to the point where channie thought for a second he would get the cops called on him for a noise complaint

but he stopped worrying about that when the few seconds of silence were disrupted by even more sobs and begs for seungmin to give you his pups!

though, minnie took such good care of you after each round!! he made sure you drank enough water and was good on snacks until lino came in with the bigger meals for both of you. but, that was all thrown out the window when he found himself rock hard, yet again.

he just couldn't hold himself back from folding you into every position he could think of that would keep you below him, at his mercy, and keep your pretty, puffy pussy ready for him at all times

channie felt like it was constant. like the two of you had spent every minute of those days drooling over each other and fucking each other's brains out.

which to some degree was true... neither of you could deny that, but you both still got... occasional breaks! they may or may not have been short-lived before seungmin was ready to go again, but nobody needs to know that!

all that your owners needed to know was that, by the time seungmin's heat was over, you were well bred and he felt like himself again!

but- oh! would you look at that? your owners came in to help you guys clean up after the fact, but it appears that seungmin managed to trigger your heat... but not to worry! he is very keen on repaying you for your help and is already shoving his cock into you before lino can even get out the door~

so,, maybe you guys weren't exactly done yet.

bonus;

puppy!seungmin realizing he had a lot of fun misbehaving during his heat so, now that you and him are well acquainted and hang out multiple times throughout the week, he goes out of his way to make his owner's life miserable~

fucks you into every surface he can think of: the dining table, the kitchen counters, the bathroom sink, the bathtub/shower, the coffee table, the couch, against the windows, in the middle of the hallway, channie's desk...

channie's bed

& seungmin always makes sure you make the biggest mess possible so that he can see the veins on channie's neck pops out when he blames it on his "instincts"

it pushes ALL of channie's buttons. not only does he have to clean up the insane amounts of cum all around his place, but he also has to smell sex literally everywhere all while he "can't" get his dick wet :((

so i bring you: owner!lino who lets owner!channie fuck you, his eager kitty, into the mattress all the while puppy!seungmin is all but tied to a chair.

lino watches over him and makes sure that he doesn't touch himself, cum, or even look away from the bed, for that matter

double bonus; mxm continuation of ^

lino's got his big, veiny hands jerking minnie off only to pull away and leave him leaking when he almost cums for the nth time :((

& channie's never subjected him to anything like this before so he caves a lot sooner than any of them thought; tears prickling his pretty boba eyes and his cock an angry red as it twitches with each apology that comes out of his lips

but.. oh! their pretty kitty is too tired to go another round? 'oh im sorry minnie.' poor pup. 'what will we do with you now?'

it doesn't take long for channie to fold. he loves his puppy and he would do anything to make those stupid tears go away- even if that means splitting him in half on his cock <3

he'd always thought about fucking his pretty mutt, but never thought it was on the table until those big, begging puppy dog eyes stared up at him all watery and his puppy was sitting there begging him to help him :(

he can't help himself when he lays down and lets seungmin have his way with his cock! but then all of a sudden lino joins in- letting his kitty take a nap and rest while he slides a hand around seungmin's waist and the other in his hair

he controls his hip movements like this and snaps at channie when he tries to tell minho to 'just let him do what he wants.'

no. no. no. absolutely not. 'stupid pup needs to learn his lesson.'

lino makes them change positions so that they can eiffel tower him; lino fucking his throat raw while channie's dicking him down hard enough to make the boy feel him in his tummy <3

& he's making the biggest mess all over the sheets!! a mixture of drool and precum soaking dark spots into channie's previously clean sheets, the realization making something in channie snap hehe

yea. im sick in the head over this. thank u anon i love you so much

[chaoticdreamersthings]

Glimpse of us - Part 4

No tears left to cry

!!!WARNING! RPF BELOW!!!

Pairing: Joost x Fem Reader

Description: Months after the party, you and Joost meet again, and he asks for one last chance.

Please read the previous chapters for context

Warnings: angst, that’s a heartbreaking chapter, I am so bad at labeling my own stuff I’m so sorry

Author’s note: the last part!! Thank u to everyone who read it, I hope you liked it! Please reblog my work if you like it!!

Also maybeeeee…. MAYBE I have an idea for a sequel

Word count: 5.5 k

Part: 4/4

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3

You watch the red leaves falling slowly from the trees as you sit at your desk, trying to write something for work. Instead of being productive, you have a whole breakdown in your head, thinking about how fast time goes — how it was just summer, and now you’re here, wrapped in the coziest sweater you own, wondering how many Mondays are left until Christmas. The last few months have been anything but calm, yet you still feel a little disappointed, as you thought you would have more going on in your life by now. The thought of going back to your home country has crossed your mind more than once, but you’ve gotten so used to living here, that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. The lack of love life was one of the reasons you feel like there’s nothing more for you in Amsterdam, but the great friendships are definitely something keeping you here.

It’s been four months since the day Joost walked out of your apartment, and in all those months there hasn’t been a single word from him. Not even a single message, not even a drunk call. You knew this would happen, but it still didn’t stop you from spending the next day crying on the floor with a bottle of wine, still hoping for at least a glimpse of him: a drunk late-night message or a surprise appearance at one of the places you usually go. But nothing came. Just the quiet ache of waiting for someone who had already left.

He had never gone this long without talking to you, so you finally came to terms with the fact that maybe this was actually the end. This time, however, you didn’t reach out. You didn’t send the first message, didn’t break the silence with hope. You just accepted that even after the intimate weekend you shared, he still couldn’t bring himself to show up in the way you needed. And if that wasn’t enough to make him change, then you doubt anything ever will.

Clara opens the door - you hadn’t bothered locking in, knowing she was on her way. She takes one look at you, you and shakes your head. She’s seen you in situations like that so many times. And though a part of you feels pathetic, you know there’s no one else you would ever let see you in this state.

“Come on, baby” she says softly, sits next to you “You can’t let him do this to you every time, Y/N. He was nice that night, he took care of us, stepped in before we talked to that fucking creep — but that doesn’t mean you can invite him over and play house, like you’re some perfect little couple.” she looks at you with sadness in her eyes. “You’ve got to hold on to your decisions. I know it’s hard, but you can’t keep tossing them aside the moment he shows up.” 

You can hear the guilt in her voice — she knows she shouldn’t have let herself get that drunk, not with him around - shouldn’t have left you so vulnerable, going back to his arms. She liked Joost — everyone did — but the intense emotional crashes he left you with were something she couldn’t accept. And she just couldn’t keep watching you suffer because of him.

“I know” you say, your voice weak. Every word she says — you know it. You’ve heard it a hundred times, from her, from others, from that quiet voice inside your own head. But it still doesn’t change the fact that in that moment nothing could have stopped you. Because when those light blue eyes were piercing through you, nothing else existed. It was just you and him. You always let the hope that this time it would be different win over your rational side. You were always ready to let go off your boundaries if it meant holding on to even the smallest chance with him. 

God, that sounds pathetic. You’re pathetic. You look at Clara, trying to read her face, wondering if that’s what she thinks too, if deep down, she’s tired of seeing you like this. But if she is, she hides it well — her eyes hold no judgement. 

“Fuck, why does he have to be such a dick? You two were perfect together, but every time it gets too good, he just shits all over it. I don’t get it.” She shakes her head and takes the wine bottle from your hand, taking a long sip before continuing.

“I was really rooting for you two. From the very beginning — since the day you met him at that club.” She sighs. “But you deserve better. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, but he’s just not good enough. Not for you. He’s not bad but you… you’re AMAZING. You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on. Someone who treats you like a princess, like a treasure he’s afraid of losing. And he doesn’t.” She shakes her head “And he should! You know what I mean?”

You didn’t know why he acted that way either, but you’d stopped trying to understand him. In the beginning, when problems between you first started, you tried to talk about it — tried to suggest reasons for his behavior — but each attempt only seemed to push him further away. So you stopped. Stopped bringing it up, and eventually, even stopped thinking about it. You accepted things the way they were: him, unable to change the parts of himself that were slowly destroying your relationship - until it all fell apart. 

None of it had to happen. If he’d addressed the issue from the beginning — his fear of commitment, his tendency to disappear whenever the conversation turned to the future or anything remotely serious — it might have been different. But instead, he’d vanish for days after every difficult conversation, then return like nothing had happened. And every time, you forgave him. That cycle went on for months.

“I’m just… so disappointed, you know?” You whisper, resting your head on her shoulder. At least she is able to offer you the kind of quiet comfort that asks for nothing in return. It’s not the same as him — but it’s something. You have no idea what you’d do without this girl.

“I know” she says, gently wrapping her arm around your shoulders. ��But we’ll get through it together, okay? I hate seeing you cry over him, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll wipe your tears a thousand times.” She gives you a pale smile, and you return it. “You did the same for me.” She says quietly.  “I remember.” 

Before, every memory of him made your heart race, and tears would sting your eyes. But this time, something was different. That afternoon you and Clara chugged two bottles of wine and fell asleep on the floor watching Sex and the city and ranted about how much you hate men — that was the only time you cried about it. 

The next day, you felt completely dry, like there was nothing left to cry with. Maybe, as Miss Ariana Grande once said, you really had no tears left to cry. Maybe there’s a limit to how much disappointment one person could cause, and he had finally reached it. Whatever the reason, you left it behind that day. And for the first time, you didn’t look back.

You didn’t even think about him that much anymore. Now and then something small would spark a memory — his laugh, a place you used to go, a song — and a soft wave of sadness would pass through you. But it was a different kind of sadness. You didn’t cling to the idea of him being the love of your life. You didn’t lie awake hoping he’d call, not even in the middle of the night. You didn’t wish for an accidental meeting on a street corner or in your favorite cafe. 

You didn’t think about the sex, or the romantic things he used to do. When a memory flickered, you slowly redirected your thoughts. You missed him the way you miss an old friend who was close for a while —  before she drifted away, or turned out to be not quite the person you thought she was.

You could see it now for what it was: something that felt good for a time, but could never be what you once believed. And maybe that clarity was the key. You couldn’t even imagine him back in your life anymore. The damage was too great, the wounds too deep, and your resentment was too strong. It was over — not in the dramatic, romantic sense — but in a final, irreversible way. And as painful as that truth was, you knew now that you could survive without him. More than that — you knew you’d be better off.

The workday finally comes to an end. You close your laptop, stretch your arms toward the ceiling and decide to get some air. A walk, a coffee, and a donut from your favorite bakery — small things, but they always made you feel better. The weekend is approaching and you have some plans with your friends — maybe you’ll even agree to that date that the Tinder guy suggested. 

You’ve already been on two dates. They didn’t lead anywhere, but they gave you a sense of moving on — something you desperately needed. And more than anything, they confirmed that this time, it really is different.

The sky is already getting darker — you hate how in fall the sunlight fades so early. It always makes you feel a bit more nostalgic and down, giving you too much time alone with your thoughts. And lately, that’s exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid - especially after that party few months ago.

The walk to the bakery isn’t long, but it starts to rain on the way back. Of course it does, you think. It’s Amsterdam. You really should have seen it coming. You take off your jacket and throw it over your head, regretting not bringing an umbrella. You focus on getting home as dry as possible, though you already know that’s a lost cause. Thank God you didn’t have any other plans tonight. Just a quiet evening ahead, a blanket, some trashy reality TV, and the sweet reward of a donut that somehow survived the rain.

You reach your building and are just about to take the stairs when you a familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Y/N” 

You look up, frozen in place. You hadn’t been paying attention to anything around you — you just wanted to get home and out of your wet clothes. But here you are, face to face with those blue eyes again. He’s completely soaked, his blonde hair dripping, droplets hanging from the tip of his nose. Being from here, he should’ve known to bring an umbrella — but maybe the dramatic effect was part of his plan to make you forgive him.

“No” you say, loud and firm, before he even has the chance to say anything more than your name. You shake your head in disapproval. You didn’t spend all these months without him for nothing. You won’t let him get into your head again, won’t let him disappoint you again, or make you do things you’ll regret again all over again.

“Y/N…” he repeats, trying to reach for your hand, but you take it away, like it’s been burned. Damn him! Who does he think he is — showing up like this without a warning? Not a message, not a call. What did he expect? That you’d fall into his arms again? That you’ll forget the months of silence, of absence, of everything he broke and never cared to fix? 

Whatever he’s here for — sex, some half-hearted apology, or a delusional idea of picking up where you left off — it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. Way too late. You feel the anger rising in your chest and for the first time, you realize — it really is different now. You don’t want his attention. You just feel pure, burning resentment.

“No. We are not doing this. Go away. And don’t come here again” you say, your voice filled with hurt, disappointment and anger. You’re furious, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you scream or cry, Not this time. You’re done being the girl who breaks apart in front of him. Today, you keep it cold. This time, you’re walking away, and you’re doing it dry-eyed, and absolutely sure. 

“Come on… i know you want to…” you stare at him as those words leave his mouth. And he has the audacity to say he knows you want to? That’s how low he thinks of you. That he can show up out of nowhere and tell you what you want — like you’re some stupid girl he can manipulate with a few words. That motherfucker. 

“I don’t want shit from you. Not anymore. Please, move off the stairs and let me go home.” The words come out colder than you expected, and you’re sure he notices it — as he should. You’re not having any of his bullshit today. You won’t give him an inch of room to talk you into anything. You’re standing your ground, showing him that things are not how they used to be.

“Listen to me… i came to…” his voice is shaking, losing all his confidence. 

He didn’t expect that reaction, you can see it in his eyes. He thought a little sweet talk, maybe some gentleness and vulnerability, would be enough to pull you back in. But it’s not working. 

It’s not that you’re angrier than ever. There were so many times you cried and yelled, when your fights escalated to ridiculous proportions. But this time? This time, there’s only cold detachment. You’re over it. And he's never seen you like this. And that scares him more than anything else. For the first time, he gets the feeling that he might have lost you for good. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you came here for! Leave me alone” you try to pass, but he doesn’t let you. For a brief moment, you consider hitting him in the face — he deserves it for all the hurt he’s put you through, and you know deep down, he’d probably agree. But you don’t believe in violence. You don’t want to give him any sign of losing control. 

You look at him instead, his hands raised, his eyes wide, begging for something — for your attention, your forgiveness, anything. Oh, how the tables have turned. It used to be you, trying to manipulate him into staying, desperate to hold onto whatever scraps of him you could. And now it’s him, begging for something he’ll never get from you again.

And then you laugh. But it’s not just a laugh. It’s a dark, bitter sound — filled with all he resentment you’ve been carrying for so long. You can’t help it. It’s the one response to how ridiculous this entire situation is. You’ve spent all this time in the same endless cycle — crying, trying to heal your broken heart, only for him to show up, promising you the world, and then disappearing without a trace. 

It’s a joke. He leaves, comes back, leaves again, and you’re stuck in this never-ending story. How funny, how ironic is that you got everything you thought you wanted, but now you don’t want it anymore.

“You scare me.” He says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah? Good. I should scare you.” You’ve never been this bold with him before. But something inside of you has snapped, and now there’s nothing left for him. No more chances. 

You stand there, looking at him, watching as his beautiful blue eyes lose their power over you. That hold he once had on you? It’s gone. Completely. And for the first time in a long time, you realize that it’s something you never thought could happen. But here you are.

You’re soaked through, your clothes sticking to your skin, but you don’t care. The rain doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is getting to your apartment and forgetting this ever happened.

“Y/N, just listen to me, please, then you can hate me and never speak to me again, but…” he says, his voice desperate, but you don’t let him get any closer.

You step back, your hands raised, a clear boundary between you.

“No, Joost.” You say firmly “There’s nothing more to say. I’ve heard it all before. You don’t get to make your excuses, and you don’t get to have another chance.” There’s not even a sign of hesitation in your words. 

“Please, just let me…” he says, reaching for your hand, but you pull it away again. “I love you, please…” his voice is shaky, filled with desperation. You see him panic — his usual charm and control are going away, realizing nothing he says is working on you anymore. He never thought he’d see you like this.

You look at him, and you can’t believe it — but he looks pathetic to you. Tears in his eyes, a desperate grip on your hand. You were not the only pathetic one in the relationship between you two, though you always saw yourself as the one desperately clinging on. You feel a little sorry for him, but he brought it on himself. 

That night — that last night you spent together — you begged him to stay. You opened up, let your bare emotions speak, showed him how much he meant to you and how badly you wanted things to work. For months after the breakup you hoped he would come back, apologize, beg. That he would stand exactly like this in front of you. 

But now it’s too late, it’s not romantic or heartwarming. It’s a pathetic attempt to crawl back to hurt you again. There’s nothing left. You don’t believe him anymore, and nothing he could say would change that.

“Who do you think you are?” You say — not loud, not trembling, just calm and controlled “How many more times are you going to do this? I don’t want to be on this rollercoaster forever. I don’t want to keep waiting for you to come back, or constantly live in fear that you’ll disappear without a word, or tell me out of nowhere that you can’t do this, or you don’t want it, or whatever else it is this time. I’m sorry. I know you have unresolved issues, I know you’re struggling with things you don’t even say out loud — but I can’t keep hurting myself because of that.” 

People passing by glance at the two of you, some look concern, others just curious. You wonder what it must look like from the outside. Dramatic? Messy? Pathetic?

“I’m not doing that. I won’t let you do the same thing to me again. Because I know it won’t stop. I asked too many times. You never listened.”  

A sudden sadness creeps into your voice as you remember how much you actually wanted him to be the one, and how many things you let slide before - things you shouldn’t have. You really loved him - and in a way, you still do. But a real partner, someone who truly loves you, should give more than just hot and cold behavior. 

“It’s different now, I started working on it and…” you cut him off before he can go further — you already know what comes after that. 

“You think a few months of self-work can undo years of damage? That in four months, you’ve somehow become the man I spent all that time waiting for? I doubt that.” You shrug. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not able to forgive you for what you’ve done. That last time I really hoped… I really hoped you’d stay.” Your voice softens, almost breaking under the weight of that memory. It weighs on you — not just because he left, but because you let yourself believe he wouldn’t. Every time he killed your hope, it hurt more than the one before.

“No, I’m trying., for you I…” he sounds so desperate you feel a mix of embarrassment and sadness for him.

“I don’t want you to do that for me. Do it for yourself. But this” you point your finger at him, and then at yourself “this is over. I’m done.” You sigh. “I'm really sorry.” 

And you are. Sorry that something so full of potential, something that once felt destined, was ruined not by lack of love, but by his inability to nurture it. Sorry for how this story ended — because it had everything it needed to become a beautiful love story with a happy ending. But he was the one who wrote a different, disappointing and sad one.

“Y/N, please…” you see the desperation in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. You know the feelings he has are real. But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. You felt that way a thousand times, just like that last night you spent together. He still left, even seeing how vulnerable you were, how you showed your feelings without any hesitation. You can’t keep putting him first - his needs can’t always come before yours, no matter how much you love him and want it to work.

“No” you hear your voice crack, the weight of letting him go finally sinking in. It was inevitable, but letting go meant releasing so many other emotions that were tied to him, the first person you truly loved. And even though you knew it had to happen, it still hurt more than anything that had ever happened to you.

You thought you were over this. You thought you were ready to leave him and never look back, but as sure as you were of your decision, you realized it wasn’t as easy as you imagined. His vulnerability, the way he confessed his feelings without you asking for it, was unexpected. It’s something he didn’t usually do. As much as it made you want to cry, you remained certain that letting him go was the only way forward. Even if it felt like your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, you knew it was the right thing to do.

“Is that your final word?” He asks, still a hint of hope in his voice. You can barely stand it. You wish you could disappear, wrap yourself in the comfort of your bed, bury your face in a blanket, and never speak to anyone again. But you know this needed to be done. You owe it to yourself to get that closure, even if it means you‘ll be drowning in sadness for the next few days — or weeks.

“Yes” you say quietly, all your confidence slipping away. The thought of him actually leaving, not begging for another chance, and never coming back terrifies you. You didn’t want to do it — but there’s no turning back now. You made your decision and now you have to face everything that comes with it.

“So look in my eyes and tell me you don’t love me” he says, his voice trembling with desperation. You recognize it for what it is - last one, toxic attempt to hold on. And yet you can’t deny that you’ve done the same before. You’ve stood in his place, begging for words, begging for a sign, while he looked away, unable to meet your eyes. Now, it’s you who looks to the side, avoiding his gaze. You can’t answer that question — not honestly. Not because you don’t feel anything, but because you do. But the feelings can’t erase the damage or make staying any healthier.

“I’m not doing that.” You say quietly. It wouldn’t be fair — to him, to you. And deep down, you know he understands that too. 

“You see? You do love me. Why won’t you just… give me a chance?” His voice trembles, and he looks like he’s on the verge of crying. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. If he cries, really cries, you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep pretending you’re untouched by this. 

“Because I already did. You had endless chances, Joost. Every time you came back, I gave you another chance. And each time I was disappointed. I love you so much it’s destroying me. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to be destroyed. I want peace. I want stability. I want to be with someone who doesn’t make me question their love every day — who doesn’t pull me close only to push me away the next morning. I’m done. I’m sorry.” You try to stay calm, but all the emotions from the past are boiling inside you. You’re close to crying too, but you focus on your breath, holding the tears back.

“I won’t…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You will.” You interrupt him gently. “I know you think you won’t now, I think you mean it. But it ’s happened too many times for me to trust that. Even if this time was different — even if you never left again — I’d still wake up every day scared that you might leave, or decide — again — that we shouldn’t be together.  You’ve done it so many times, Joost, I can’t even remember what it felt like to be with you without the fear hanging over me.”

You take his hand — not because you’re second guessing, but because If this is goodbye, you don’t want it to end in anger or be filled with words you’ll regret tomorrow. You owe him at least that — a proper goodbye. Your love story deserves a gentle ending. 

“I love you” you say softly “but this… this will be the best for both of us.” 

You try to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. No one warned you it would be this hard. No one told you that you would have to be the strong one — the one who walks away.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says quietly, and pulls you in for a hug. 

You resist at first, but when you see the tears shinning in his eyes, you let yourself give in. You step closer and let him hold you tightly. It feels just like It always did — safe, familiar. You rest your forehead against his chest, close your eyes and take a deep breath. That same vanilla cologne mixed with cigarette smoke fills your lungs, a scent so distinctly him you’d recognize it anywhere in the world. It’s a scent of a thousand memories, of nights you thought would last forever, of heartbreak and comfort tangled together. His arms still give you that sense of belonging, but this time you know — it’s the last. Your heart doesn’t scream take him back. This is closure — not reconciliation. Even as the warmth of him fills you, even as his hand gently presses to your soaked back, you don’t feel the urge to stay. There’s no spark of hope, no craving for one more chance. Just a quiet certainty that it’s over.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, his voice trembling “For all the times that I hurt you, all the times that I disappointed you, all the times you cried because of me… it was never my intention, I’m just fucked up like that, you know?” 

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and you don’t force him to. You still press your head to his chest, taking in the familiar scent of him, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat — it somehow grounds you, offering a moment of calm in the chaos. His words sting, but you know you need to hear them. He needs to say them. 

“I know it’s too late, and I can’t do anything to fix it, but believe me — I would. I’d do anything to go back in time and fix it” his voice cracks, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. You blink fast, trying to stop them from falling. “I was scared” he admits, and this time, he almost chokes on it. “Terrified, actually. Of how deep my feelings for you were. I was scared of how close we got. I was scared of how much you loved me. Every time you looked at me like I was your whole world, or told me you wanted to be with me forever… I just froze. I didn’t feel worthy of that love. I didn’t know what to do with it.” He pauses.

“I’m so sorry, I fucked that up.” You feel the pain in his words — real, raw — but you also know: no matter how much you understand him, this time, you have to choose yourself.

You waited a long time for this apology — but now that it finally came, it didn’t bring any relief. In fact, you didn’t feel much at all. You were at peace with your decision, and taking him back wouldn’t make things right. As much as you still wished the best for him, you knew you couldn’t lose yourself in that relationship again.

“Well… it’s done now.” You say, your voice barely above whisper. You want to hold him and tell him that everything will be alright — but it won’t be, and you both know it. “I’m sorry too. Maybe I pushed you too hard. I just… I really wanted us to work.” 

You close your eyes, and lean into his tall body, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his arms one last time.

“We still can…” he whispers. You feel his arms tighten around you, just slightly, as if he’s trying to hold on to the possibility of keeping you. 

“No.” 

You pull away, just enough to look at him. His light blue eyes shimmer with tears, his soaked hair clinging to his forehead — somehow you hadn’t even noticed the rain has stopped. He’s still holding your hand tightly, not ready to let go, even though he knows he must. You’re not going to look back, and he can’t make you stay. 

Why was it so hard? You know what you have to do, but each glance at him, every memory that flashes through your mind, cuts open a new wound in your heart.

You move in slightly, just enough to softly press your lips to his. It’s a gently kiss, barely there. For a moment, you feel the pull — the temptation to deepen it, to lose yourself in him again with a long, passionate kiss. But you stop yourself. You know exactly where that would lead, and you can’t afford to go there. Clara was right — what you need now is willpower.

“Goodbye, Joost” you whisper, gently pulling your hand from his as you turn and walk toward the entrance of your building. Every step feels like you’re cutting your heart open, like you’re the one holding the knife and twisting it deeper. This wound won’t heal quickly. 

The way up to your apartment is a blur — your emotions are boiling over, leaving you numb to everything around you. You finally reach your door, grip the handle, step inside, and shut it behind you. The moment it closes, the tears come. You weren’t ready for this wave of emotion, for seeing him again. You’ve made so much progress, but nothing could’ve prepared you for facing the person you once called the love of your life. It was a final goodbye — one you never truly believed would come. And now, your tears carry all that weight. You don’t expect them to stop anytime soon. 

As much as you loved him, as much as you wanted to do what he asked — try again, be together, happy and in love — you knew it will not happen. You didn’t believe he could keep his promise. 

Maybe someday, somewhere down the line, your paths will cross again, and you’ll find each other changed but still in love. Maybe… just maybe… this isn’t the final chapter. 

This wasn’t the right mindset to have. The next step toward being okay was letting yourself believe that love still existed — just not with him. And if the two of you were truly meant to be, life would find a way to bring him back.

You hated to admit it, but no matter how hard you tried to push it aside, a small part of you still secretly hoped it might happen.

[moonshapedbox]

swan shaped heart — part two

arthur morgan x preacher’s daughter

a/n: OMG where do i begin…first off thank u all sm for all love chapter one received i’m truly so touched!!! this is the first fanfic i’ve ever posted in my life so it means a lot!!! also sorry it took so long to complete part 2, college has been beating my ass as of lately. trying to update semi regularly but we’ll see!! its still extremely self indulgent though once again bc i’m working lots of things out in my life rn that i think arthur can fix. you can read chapter one here <3

tags: lots of fluff and romantic tension :D hint of age gap, kissing, no smut but fairly suggestive, arthur is kind of mischievous, angsty in some parts if u squint, religious themes throughout obviously, no use of y/n (I wrote in 3rd person hehe), no blasphemy bc i’m religious <3 reader is in her twenties. read at ur own risk.

wc: 5.9k

part two – peaches

“You still coming to the picnic?”

Her words reverberated in his ears like tinnitus. He arrived back at his lodging to grab a few things he forgot, throwing and shoving items into his saddlebags. Was he going to the picnic? That’s all she had to say? He looked up at the sky again, the sun barely cracking up the pale blue sky, humidity in the air from the previous day's rain was suffocating.

Truly, he hadn’t decided yet if he was going to change his mind about it all. It was no mistake, the preacher’s daughter stirred up things in him he hadn’t felt for years. It was foolish to attend, he kept reminding himself of that. He needed to get back to camp, there was his own folks to take care of and business to attend to. Dutch was probably in the middle of some half baked scheme that he concocted to have Arthur lead in, John and Abigail were most likely arguing and needed a mediator, and there was the other women, Hosea, and little Jack.

So was he going to the picnic? It was something he would have to ponder on his way back to camp.

For the preacher’s daughter, things were shifting. Big changes and waves of emotion had shaped her irrevocably since that morning. She sat in the pews, front row like always, but for once she wasn’t really listening to her father’s sermon. She wouldn’t nod along to what he was saying, or open her Bible to turn to the verse and chapter he referred to. Instead, her eyes found a place to gaze over and bore a hole into it with her vision, mind wandering off to Arthur. The only times she was brought back was by her mother, who would gently yet lovingly tap her on the knee, to get her attention, silently gesturing to listen to her father. She would continue her days like normal, but completely enamored by Arthur, what he said, what he did–or lack thereof.

A couple of days later– the annual town picnic had finally reared its vague and complicated head. Typically, the picnic was always an event that she had always been enamored with. She looked forward to it every spring– her hand would be the first to raise when asked about volunteers or who should be in charge of planning the event, but now; the idea of going made uneasiness twist in her stomach. The thought of Arthur being there is all that mattered to her, although with their awkward and incomplete farewell, she didn’t know where she stood in his eyes.

The picnic was a lively affair, with almost the whole town participating in the activities. The crowd gathered outside the church where it was being held, enjoying the food and each other’s company. The warm spring breeze picked up the light atmosphere and covered everyone’s spirits with joy. There was music and dancing and lots of laughter. While the preacher’s daughter was usually the one to be in the crowd, socializing with fellow townsfolk– she found herself dismayed, as she sat on the steps of the church, knees pressed to her chest and a weary look staining her face.

“You gonna eat something dear?” her father’s voice broke her out of her trance, “Your mama made that chicken salad you like.” She sees him getting closer and shakes her head, “I’m not very hungry Papa.” she lays her head on her knees. The preacher walks up to her and observes his daughter, before sighing and sitting next to her. “Want to tell me what’s going on? You barely spoke a word all day, hardly participated on Sunday..”

She sighs and hesitates to say anything before continuing, “Remember how I told you Mr. Morgan stopped by the house the other morning? He found my necklace.”

“Yes, it was kind of him,” Her father blinks and nods, “Is this somehow relevant as to why you've been such a sourpuss lately?”

She opened her mouth but then stopped before she could start her sentence. She realized that if she were to tell him exactly what happened—it meant that she would have to tell him everything that took place in the kitchen that morning—the touching, the lewd remarks, and worst of all— she had her innocent and dainty fingers in some strange man’s mouth. This would most certainly kill her father, so she finds a way around it.

“Well, I feel like I might have offended him and I feel bad about it…that’s all.” she explains, it technically wasn’t a lie, a small pang of relief hitting her chest.

“What could you have possibly said that could offend him, dear?” her father asks, sincere in his words, genuinely wanting to make his daughter feel better. For her, this was the tricky part, trying to find the words without saying anything at all, “I told him he needed to leave…because I had things to do that day.”

Technically a lie, technically the truth. It was a moral dilemma she’d contemplate later.

“Aw, is that it?” he gives her a sympathetic smile, “Oh don’t even fret about it I’m sure he’s alright. Honestly, it says more about him if he took offense to a sweet ol’ thing like you.” He lovingly pinches her cheek and plants a kiss on top of her head, before rising to his feet, “You’ve always had a problem being in your own head too much sweetheart.” She nods in agreement, wanting the conversation to end, “I guess so. Thank you papa.”

A voice calls out to her father, interrupting their conversation. He looks over to the source of where the voice came from. He pats her on the back before walking off to greet more of his congregation that decided to stop by. Maybe her father was right, perhaps she was in her head too much. Of course, her father did not have the context like she did, but this false sense of reassurance passed the time well.

She continues to think about what Arthur said.

“Ever think about a man lovin’ on you baby?”

She is now. Arthur planted the seeds of desire in her, and the roots that grew traveled up her veins and made her heart race. She couldn’t get him out of her head no matter how hard she tried. She looks to the farthest distance she can, wondering what he was doing right now– what he was wearing and what path he was travelling. Far out, she notices a brown figure moving at a rapid pace, her eyes narrow. It’s just a horse– a beautiful one at that; a deep chestnut brown. Her gaze softened as it got closer in view, she noticed the horse had a splash of white on its nose– with a man mounted on top.

Her head lifts from her lap, was that him? It couldn’t be–or it could. She squints a bit harder, waiting for the man to come closer. She leans forward in her lap, eventually standing on the steps. She could recognize that gambler’s hat from anywhere.

It was him, Arthur had come back.

“Mr. Morgan!” she runs to him and looks up at him on his horse, “You made it.” she smiles. He gets off his horse and secures it, “Of course. Why would I not be here? You invited me.” he responds flatly, not caring to make eye contact with her.

She looks down and back up again, “I know but that was before…” she reads his face, pausing an explanation to feel out if he knew what she was implying, “Listen, Mr. Morgan, about the other morning, I–”

“No need darlin’,” he puts his hand out before dropping it to his side, “I understand,” He puts his weight on one hip. “I was planning on headin’ back, and I–uh made it halfway, then I got to thinkin’…” he pauses while scanning her features for a moment, “And I came off a little strong. I realize that now. Didn’t mean to frighten you if I did.” he looks down at his boots, still caked with mud from the rainstorm days ago.

She gingerly touched his hand, “All is forgiven, Mr. Morgan.” He looks up at her under the brim of his hat, and she swears she can see a hint of a smile and a smudge of red grace on his cheek.

So can her horrified father, who had been watching the interaction between the potential lovebirds from a distance the whole time. A worrisome dread sunk in him as he decided to make his presence known. He hurries toward them before calling out,

“Mr. Morgan! That you, son?”

Arthur whips his head back around, “Father! —uh reverend—shit”

“Wrong denomination son” he chuckles, loosening his tie. “I also would appreciate you to refrain from using profanity around my daughter. She’s a impressionable young lady y’know”

“Of course. Sorry, sir.” Arthur flashed a sheepish grin, before realizing he hadn’t shook the preacher’s hand yet. Out of respect he extends his hand, and they lock into a strong handshake. A pang of guilt hit Arthur, here he was shaking the man of the Lord’s hand when not even two days ago he was all over this man’s only daughter, in his own kitchen nonetheless.

“I invited Mr. Morgan to the picnic, figured he might want to visit a little more before he leaves.” she explains, innocently swaying her hips, giving her skirt a little movement as she rocked side to side.

“I can see that dear,” The preacher smiles at his daughter before shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to make friendly conversation. Anything to try and keep Arthur from sweeping his daughter off her feet, “So, how’s that cattle ranch of yours, son?”

Cattle ranch? Oh right, that was the story he pitched the town initially. It was the perfect small lie given the circumstance. The cattle rancher to save the town from cattle thieves, you couldn’t write a better story. “Just fine. Hard work. You know how it is. Cattle can be…temperamental.”

Stupid stupid stupid. He was bombing this and he knew it was over the second the words left his mouth. He grimaced in his mind at the interaction.

“Right,” the preacher drawls the word, trying to detect any honesty in Arthur’s claim, “Well regardless of your business, we’re glad you could join us,” he says, tone friendly but his words having an edge to them.

She smiles, “We got plenty of food why don’t we eat–”

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” her father whips his head to look at her.

She flashes a half smile, “Well I am now, ‘sides I don’t want to be rude and not eat in front of our guest, papa.”

Her father looked between two, he knew exactly what was happening and he didn’t like it one bit. He had no reason to be distrustful of Arthur, after all he did save his town from that reckless gang, but something wasn’t right. Although, to save his beloved daughter from embarrassment, he decided to play along– for now.

The eating and socializing made time fly by, Arthur enjoyed the peaceful and innocent fun with everyone, it made him forget about all his stress and worries for a couple of hours. He smiled along to a song played on a mandolin, he listened to her fill him in on all the local happenings that occurred while he was away, she clung onto his bicep as he won a couple games of dominoes against the shopkeeper, and before either of them knew it– the sun was starting to set. Arthur sat next to her at the picnic table, enjoying the sounds of soft conversations in the distance, but mostly he enjoyed her company. He exhaled deeply and looked over at her, “Let’s take a quick stroll, whaddya say?” She looked back at him, “That sounds lovely, but the sun is setting…I don’t know…”

“And?” He stands up and stretches up as tall as he can, she looks over his huge, broad frame growing taller as he pulls upward, her heart skips a beat at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt as he shifts around. “You’ll be safe with me, let’s go girl.” he motions with his head and grabs his satchel. His sudden firm tone made her pulse quicken, not fully understanding why she liked it as much as she did.

Eventually, she and Arthur wander off into the path into a nearby trail, enough daylight to see where they were going as well as the beauty of the mountainous region, she looks up at him, his face concentrated on where they were headed.

“So where you takin’ me?” she asks.

“Nowhere in particular, unless you got somethin’ in mind,” he responds as he adjusts the weight of his satchel. She thinks for a moment and a bright smile spreads across her face, “I got an idea, there’s a lake nearby, it’s so beautiful. You’ll love it I promise.”

“Okay, the lake it is then,” he nods. Despite not speaking a word to each other, she smiled to herself that she was finally getting to spend more time with him like she always dreamed of. “Whatcha smilin’ ‘bout?” Arthur’s voice broke the prolonged silence. She shook her head, “Nothin’. Just having fun that’s all.” Arthur smiles back at her, “That reminds me, I almost forgot somethin’,” he stops in his tracks and she follows his lead.

“I know you’re supposed to bring somethin’ for a picnic and I didn’t know what to bring but–,” he reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a can, “hope you like it.”

She grins with playful confusion, “A can of….” she tries to examine the can further, the text on the label rubbed off almost completely, “...peaches?” She walks slowly alongside him, still looking down at the can.

He nods, “You like peaches, hon?” strolling in tandem alongside her.

“Yeah, I like ‘em even better in pies though,” she responds.

“Peach pie?” He raises a brow, “I ain’t ever had that before…apple, yes. But peach? That’s a new one.”

“Oh I gotta make you one then. They’re real easy.” she says before letting a beat of silence encompass them.

She exhales an airy chuckle, “Reminds me of the time when Papa took me to a preacher’s convention in Saint Denis – well more like I begged him to take me– but anyway while I was there I had a peach pie with ice cream. Ice cream of all things, can you believe it?” she grins brightly, “They call it peach a la mode, isn’t that brilliant? Makes me feel sophisticated” she rambles, her hands gesticulating for emphasis.

He scoffs, “So that’s what rich folks are eatin’ huh? They can’t be ok with pie itself they gotta go add ice cream on it too.” he muttered, gesturing broadly as they strolled down the path together. She laughs loudly, “You’re a silly man Mr. Morgan… Ain’t seen a person upset with ice cream before.” He shook his head, he wasn’t trying to make her laugh, but it was like a symphony to his ears.

“Was it good?” His question broke the beat of silence.

“Hm?”

“The peach el mood?” he motions.

She bursts out laughing again, “A la mode? Definitely, it was divine.”

There it was again–he smiles lovingly at the sound of her laugh.

“You might have to make that for me too,” he grins and shoves his hands in his pockets.

The sound of both them walking down to the lake absorbed any beat of silence that could have been there. The crunching of gravel beneath their feet and sound of birds chirping accompanied their walk. Arthur picked up rocks he thought were compelling enough to shove into his jacket pocket. He picks up another rock and fidgets with it, and glances over at her for a second, eyes trailing down to her slightly exposed sternum which cradled that heavenly swan pendant necklace.

“You like swans, huh?” he inquired, throwing the rock like a skipping stone. “Why swans? And not like– I don't know a dove or somethin’.”

“A dove? That’s awfully cliche don’t you think?” she smirks. They finally make it to the lake. Seeing a big tree log that somehow found itself at the base of the lake, they both take a seat there. Arthur shrugs at her previous comment and adjusts next to her.

“I just like ‘em that’s all. Y’know it’s said that swans represent beauty, grace, wisdom. I think it’s a good symbol to look upon. It’s always been quite reassuring to me.” she places the can of peaches she had been holding down onto the ground.

“Ah, so it’s your lucky charm?” he grinned.

She waves him off, “Oh Mr. Morgan, I don’t believe in luck,” she looks out into the lake, “To tell you the truth, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to see a swan in the wild. I’m holdin’ out for hope I’ll get see one.”

“You will someday, I’m sure.” He looked over at her peaceful demeanor, his heart felt so warm just by being in her presence. The realization that all he wanted was to be with her overcame him. As it came, a familiar thick and oily guilt suddenly swallowed him upon the thought that he hadn't been exactly truthful with her. Quite frankly, he was a liar– lied about what he did for a living, lied about the true nature of his arrival 4 years ago, the lies started to collapse on his throat. If he was even to consider a life with her in it, he had to tell her everything– there was no cattle ranch, the only money he had technically didn’t belong to him, he was originally going to rob her town– that he is an outlaw.

He wanted to make this work, he lost so much in his life already that he knew she was an opportunity of genuine love and care. Surely enough, someone so loving and forgiving like her would be able to handle his baggage, right? If not, he was willing to put it all on the line anyway. He rubs his jaw and exhales a breath before speaking.

“Look darlin’, there’s something I need to tell you–”

“--You gotta girl ain’t you?” she interrupts flatly.

He exhales a laugh, “No, I ain’t got a girl. Not for a long time at least,” taken aback by her boldness, he continues to chuckle to himself.

“Why are you laughin’? It’s not that much of an odd assumption to make. You’re handsome and smart and you got that big cattle ranch so it’s not crazy to assume gals wouldn’t be all over you–”

“You think I’m handsome?” he whipped his head to look at her, his cheeks warmed at the compliment, trying to hide the surprise in his voice as he never truly felt comfortable or confident with himself.

“Stop it, you know what I meant,” she blushes, “I’m just sayin’ you’re a catch, that’s all.” He continues to smile at her bashful ramblings, shaking his head at her behavior. A sense of mischief creeps up in his mind, and he couldn’t help but entertain it, “Anyways, why ain’t you married yet? I’d figure some young buck would come sniffin’ ‘round after you as soon as you got to marryin’ age.” he asks, watching her put a hand over her face.

“Very classy Mr. Morgan, you’re a real gentleman,” she groans, resting her head in her hand, “I don’t know. I don’t like any of the men at my church. They’re…stupid.”

“How so? Despite the obvious,” he inquires.

She exhales and tries to think of the words to articulate how she feels, “It seems they want me barefoot and pregnant and that life–” she pauses, “I don’t believe that’s what God intended for me. It’s not my path." She picked up a stick and started tracing patterns on the dirt.

“What’s your path then?” His heart softens at the conviction in her tone.

She hesitates for a moment, scared that he would judge her for passions. He nods at her, “You know you can tell me anythin’ darlin’” he says softly, wanting to know what was in that beautiful mind of hers.

She exhales again, “If I may be so bold– I want to preach,” the tension leaving her body after she confessed, “and I want real love– but I don’t know if I’m the marryin’ kind… I think if I met the right man, I’d marry. But only a man that would let me be free…I don’t think I’ll ever find that Mr. Morgan.”

I could be that. If you allowed me to. He thought to himself, but he was not brave enough to voice it. Instead, he gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Ah.” he said softly, before crossing his shin over his thigh.

“You don’t think I can do it huh?” she murmurs, kicking her feet mindlessly against the stump of the tree. His brows furrowed at her accusation, “No I do, I think you can. Hell I met a lot gals who fight for stuff like that,” he gesticulates, “I could picture you doin’ it.” he smiles.

She suddenly remembers what he said at breakfast the other morning: “If I was guaranteed you’d be the one preachin’ then maybe I’d start goin’ to church.”

She grins to herself at the thought, “Hey, if I preach does that means you’ll start comin’ to church.”

Arthur scoffs playfully, “Is that so? Who said anythin’ ‘bout that?”

“You said it yourself at breakfast!” she lets out an airy chuckle.

Arthur shakes his head before leaning in closer to her, “Well…that ain't what I meant by that, so we’re just gon’ have to see. Aren’t we?” he smirks. She looks over his face, blush reddening her ears. The moment was so perfect, he wanted to bask in its tranquility. The opportunity to tell her the truth about his livelihood was fleeting and before he knew it, it was gone. He couldn’t get it back and he hoped that soon he could find another opening. An opening that was perfect and would hurt her the least.

She breaks her gaze and looks down at the can of peaches beside her, “Well, I don’t know about you but I could go for a little sweet.” She leans over to pick up the can. He gazes her over body while she wasn’t looking, staring at the soft curves of her body and before stealing a prolonged glance of her rear, “Yep–somethin’ sweet would be real good right about now,” he hums, trying to hide the growl in the back of his throat. She sits back up again and hands him the can of peaches for him to open. The act of him stabbing the top with his knife and prying it open made her feel warm. He passes the can back to her, letting her have the first bite. She scoops a piece up and crams it into her mouth before the juice drips on her dress.

“Mmph, really good!” she exclaims while still chewing, “Where did you get these–” his hand cuts off her sentence as he wipes away a small droplet of juice from the corner of her mouth. She stops immediately, gazing back at him. A pang of excitement reverberates in the pit of her stomach. It was biscuits and gravy on Sunday all over again.

He smiles softly back at her without a second thought, before taking a piece of the fruit out for himself. She watches him eat the slice of peach, briefly sucking the excess juice off his fingers. So messy and desperate–something about watching him eat like a feral animal sparked a need in her so deep that she abruptly whips her head away just to attempt to hide it.

Although, these were not new feelings she was having: not before he filled her imagination with salacious ideas, not before he lovingly stroked her chin or accompanied her to the picnic– it started just before breakfast on Sunday morning, with her finger in his mouth. Although Arthur was no fool–oh the contrary, he could hone in on this like a falcon. The memory of her fingers in his mouth would plague him at all times. He decides it was ultimately time to break the tension.

“Honey you can’t tell me that having your fingers in my mouth ain’t done something to you. You haven’t been able to look at me the same since,” a growl in his voice reverberates in him, trying to keep his urges in line.

“What?” she swallows thickly. “I-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes you do. Don’t be coy.” He places the can next to him and turns his body toward her, “I know that’s how you was raised– to be ashamed of it. But you can’t go denyin’ these feelings forever.”

“It’s not like that…I’m not ashamed. I-I’m not.” she stammers. Arthur frowns, he can see right through her walls.

“Then why’re you always shakin’ like a damn near leaf whenever I get ‘round you?” he questions.

“I don’t know.” She murmurs, her shoulders going limp in defeat. He gazes back at her wilted expression before reaching out and gently cradling her hand, “Y’know darlin...people lovin’ on each other, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” softly tracing patterns on the back of her palm, “It’s beautiful, really.” She gazes up into his eyes, her heart rate picking up at the sight of him being so close to her. He scans her face before glancing down at her slightly parted lips.

“Mr. Morgan?” she whispers.

“Mhm?”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Do you want me to, baby?” He whispers back.

She stares up into his eyes and nods ever so softly. A genuine and loving smile spreads across his face. He inhales gently, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As he gently cups her jaw in his right hand, he leans down, and before he realizes, she instinctively turns her head away. “I’m scared” her voice barely above a murmur, “ain’t never done this before.”

He couldn’t deny that the idea of being her first kiss made his pulse quicken, and as guilty as he felt, he also couldn’t deny her naivety turned him on beyond belief. Of course, part of him also felt bad for being her first kiss. He thought to himself that she deserved a better man, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted this just as bad as she did.

“Well what do you know ‘bout it?” He strokes her hair gently.

“Nothin’ much…just what I've read in those dime store romance novels.” she murmurs, somewhat embarrassed at her inexperience. He tenderly strokes her cheek with his thumb, “Shh it’s okay sweetheart. Just relax and let me lead– can you do that for me?” he whispers lovingly.

She nods and instinctively closes her eyes, he tilts her head up and leans in to press a warm and tender kiss on her lips– even softer than he ever imagined them to be. He kisses her again, and again, before pausing and gazing lovingly into her eyes. He wishes he could live in this moment forever, “You okay so far?” He murmurs against her lips, softly nodding at her, she nods back. The mix of her orange and vanilla perfume catching in the slightly smoky and chill dusk air is intoxicating to him.

He leans back down he kisses her again, but this one was different. It was longer and deeper than the one from before, he deepened the kiss even further for a moment, working his fingers through her hair. Both of their heartbeats rise in tandem, she leans against his chest and places a hand on his thick thigh, trying to find balance against him. Something that could be acquainted with electricity pulses in her stomach, never truly realizing a sensation could feel so good. His tongue grazes her lip and she softly gasps at the feeling. Surely the taste of his lips would sear into her mouth for eternity, smoky and something that was attributed to only him. His lips still sweetened from the nectar of the peaches they consumed together, now all she wanted was to consume him.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, panting softly. “Arthur,” she exhales gently, her breath fanning his neck. The ease of his first name leaving her tongue made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck and arms. His hands still tangled in her hair, making their way down to rest on her shoulders, “My sweet babydoll, so so perfect.” he whispers.

He plants a soft yet firm kiss on her cheek and back to her lips again. She sinks into his arms. She feels so safe yet, a sensation akin to lead creeps in and weighs her soul, an anchor of remorse that makes her stomach drop. Without second thought, she pulls away from the kiss and cries. Fear spikes in Arthur’s chest at the sight of tears rolling off her supple cheeks, “Oh no no no baby, what happened? Did I do something wrong?” he panics, terrified he hurt her or crossed a boundary he wasn’t aware of.

It truly wasn’t anything he did, she really didn’t know why she was crying. Truthfully, she was overwhelmed with feelings and emotions that she didn’t know how or what to do with. The way he gently cared for comfort and boundaries touched her beyond words or actions, she never felt so loved by another man before. Was this love that she was feeling? She didn’t know what to make of it all– and it scared the hell out of her.

“No…I don’t think so…W-we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” her lip continues to quiver and tears roll down and drop into her lap. His heart twists in chest at her words, his mouth partly open from bewilderment, “Stop it. You don’t mean that,” he murmurs, “Tell me what’s going on darlin’.”

She cries again and the sight chisels away at his heart, “I-I don’t know…you did nothin wrong. I just ain’t ever felt like this before,” she reaches up to fidget with her swan pendant necklace once more. He knew exactly what was going on. She was touch starved-- it was years of pent up and repressed romantic desire that was finally boiling over– for the first time in her life, she was finally starting to learn how to love romantically.

He gives her another sympathetic smile and pulls her into his big arms, “S’okay angel, ain’t no shame in what we did,” he breathes. “It’s all new, I got it. We’ll go slower.” After a moment, she stops crying and pulls away, feeling a bit embarrassed. He can see the crimson spread across her cheeks, “I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know what came over me.” 

He shakes his head and strokes her hair, “Don’t worry ‘bout it baby, I was just scared I did somethin’ wrong,” he pauses, “or you didn’t like it.” Her eyes widen in realization, “Oh, no not at all! I liked it a lot…maybe too much.” she softly responds, her words carry an edge of caution.

“Yeah?” he smiles, tongue darting out just enough to wet his bottom lip. She nods in return, whispering a ‘thank you’ before giving him small kiss on the cheek to reinforce it.

She looks up at the sky, the sun finally tucking itself behind the mountain, “We need to get back to the picnic now. My parents are probably waitin’ for me,” she stands and fixes her dress.

Arthur nods and rises to his feet. “I’ll walk you back, hm?”

She nods and waits for him, "Arthur?"

He perks up at his name as he starts to walk with her, she looks down at her feet, "Once again, I'm really sorry I cried.” she replies softly, feeling humiliated by her reaction, "I really do like your company."

“No need to apologize, I got you girl," his big hand cradles the small of her back as they walk back to the church together, " 'Sides, we got plenty time to practice anyway. Get you more comfortable." He grins. She smiles at the thought, deciding to fill the silence again with small talk.

“Wasn’t the lake beautiful?” she asks.

“Y’know I couldn’t see it too well. Got distracted by somethin’ else.” he smiles to himself.

The sun had set by the time they got back, the picnic had been over for a while now, and there was no one in the church. So Arthur decided to walk her back to her house. He didn’t realize that they were gone for that long– his stomach dropped when they finally arrived at her home, seeing the preacher, sitting on his porch whilst rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. He and Arthur share a look, before he springs up at the sight of the two. He makes his way down the porch steps.

“Papa we–”

“Get in the house young lady.” he ordered firmly yet calmly.

“Papa please don’t be mad we were just walking around and–”

“I’m not…mad...just do what I say and go inside.”

She looks up at Arthur and nods before scurrying away, mouthing a goodbye to him as her boots clunked against the porch steps. Arthur’s blood pressure rises as he tries to de-escalate the situation, “I ain’t mean no harm sir– we really was just walkin’ and talkin’.”

The preacher shook his head in disapproval, “Y’know, I’m really disappointed in you son. See, I gave you the benefit of the doubt that you had pure intentions here– especially with my only daughter around, but I guess I was a fool.” Arthur glares under the brim of his gambler’s hat, narrowing his eyes at the preacher, “What you mean by that exactly?”

“Don’t play dumb, boy…I see the way you been lookin’ at her.” he says with an accusatory tone. Arthur cocks his head to the side, “And what way is that?” he responds, feigning innocence.

The preacher shakes his head and breathes a humorless chuckle in disbelief of Arthur’s pretend innocence, “--Like a dog licking its chops for a bite of somethin’ he shouldn’t have.”

Ah. Of course…

Arthur exhales a chuckle, “Well sir– If I was, I would have already taken a bite by now, if that’s what you’re implyin’.” he smirks and pats him on the shoulder twice, before walking off. The statement makes the preacher’s blood boil, “I ain’t stupid! I been your age before! You stay away from her, you hear me boy?!” he calls out to Arthur.

He whips his head around and saunters back to the preacher, “Y’know your lil girl ain’t gonna be yours forever. She’s a beautiful young woman and men are lookin’ at her different now,” he leans in closer, “Now you got a decision to make. ‘Cause one of these days some man is gon’ come along for her, and I can bet you anythin’ he’s gon’ be worse than me,” there’s an edge to Arthur’s voice that alerts the preacher, but he would never give Arthur the satisfaction of seeing him buckle. He stares blankly back at him.

Arthur nods slowly, “You can think about that when you say your prayers tonight,” he turns to walk away, looking to the right of him to catch a glimpse of her bedroom window, hoping to see her one last time. He chuckles to himself, before calling back to her father.

“'Night, preacher man.”

thank u for reading thus far !!! once again thank u for all the support it means the world. taglist is currently open so lemme know if u wanna be added <3

taglist 🏷️ @dilf-luvr-4evr @joelsprettyprincess @i-will-give-you-love @necktattooed

[weneeya]

hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333

baby fever m.list | rules

pairing. msby x reader

characters. hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto

note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3

Hinata

You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 

He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 

“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 

Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 

good with children ; he has a little sister after all 

always so patient no matter what 

not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 

will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 

take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 

ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby

Atsumu

Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 

Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 

You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 

“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 

“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 

the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 

careful about absolutely everything 

acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 

girl’s dad at 100% 

loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 

bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball

Sakusa

You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 

So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 

Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 

You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 

“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 

Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 

But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 

biggest girl’s dad ever 

will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 

discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 

completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 

wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 

get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 

overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl

Bokuto

He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 

Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 

You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 

“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 

Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 

It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 

neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 

had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 

it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 

not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 

will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 

always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 

will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 

always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 

a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 

thank you for reading!

[mediumgayitalian]

¡hi! I just wanted to mention I found your ficts like, a week ago by pure chance and I am absolutely obsessed with the way you characterize will and the rest of the apollo cabin. Haven't actually interacted with any pjo content in a WHILE but i just absolutely ran through most your ficts in such few time, i adore how you write oh my god. It's everything i've ever wanted for these characters I so rarely find any content but am still mildly loosing my mind over.

🥺thank u..........that is so kind. and if ur looking for more stuff i can list some of my biggest inspirations!!

my fave pjo writer, even above rick riordan, is @cordelia---rose -- she is the will solace author of all time and gets him like no one else does. and me personally im more of a character writer than a plot writer, but BOY can cordelia do both. here's her ao3.

another writer i love is @the-ghost-king, who is not only right all the time but has some EXCELLENT niche headcanons for will that fit so so well. he's also got great analyses in abundance about the entire canon series, as he's currently rereading it, and on nico in general. his ao3 is here.

GOD does @rottenpomegranate (could not tell u if this is the right blog, im going off ao3 username) ever get not only solangelo specifically but how to write really intimate relationships. i stg im regularly picking thru their fics for instructions. anyways. ao3 here.

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll u wanna talk about PLOT! they have ur back!! they come up with the most fascinating story ideas and i eat it up every time. delicious. they are also an autistic will truther and i love that. ao3 here.

OVER TO THE FCKN CLASSICS IT'S @rosyredlipstick !!! ive been reading her stuff genuinely since i was 11 years old. i GREW UP on conchell. her stuff is so interesting and her shorter stuff is so cozy i reread on the reg. ao3 here.

ANOTHER ENDLESS CLASSIC! been reading @buoyantsaturn 's stuff just as long. he's got a HUGE collection of work it's my aspiration. they're really good at writing drew actually which is niche but i love her. ao3.

and a third classic! @percyspandapillowpetperry ive been reading their fics forever and it's funny cus their username is so specific it Sticks in my memory. i remember where i was when reading a lot of these for the first time. they write a lot of silliness and they're great for a laugh ! ao3

THE PJO ARRANGED MARRIAGE ROYAL AU....😭😭😭 @gatesofember COME BACK PLEASE I NEED TO SEE HOW IT ENDS!!! i used this fic as inspo for my own royal au. i drank up every word and i think of will's family dynamic in it ALL THE TIME. ao3.

@percyinpanties wrote my favourite smutty solangelo fic of all time and they actually generally write a lot of good, kind of plot driven but mostly just GOOD smut and i am there w a notepad every time. i stg. ao3.

i disagree with @ughdomenico a Lot but i can never pinpoint why and im always mad that even tho i disagree i also agree a little. even if i don't want to. she always has something fascinating to stay and it sticks in my mind forever. always inspired. ao3.

nikkiRA when i fucking catch you nikkiRA. "Will dreams of the people he cannot save. They're mad a him." changed my fucking LIFE youre evil youre sick and twisted. ao3

THE GOLDEN APPLE THE FUCKIN GOL okay. @thegoldenappleofdiscord has this one fucking fic and its unfinished right. has been for years. of will growing up with plague powers that he hates. and it fucking HAUNTS me it changed the way i wrote will solace forever PLEASE COME BACK (ao3)

@ghosttotheparty dude his solangelo is great of course but their PERCABETH...their percabeth fucking gets me bad. ao3.

look if you're frothing at the mouth for a royal au. and i so often am. @theroyalsavage as you can maybe guess, has you COVERED. they get the weirdo power dynamics means sucker punch intimacy of a royal au SO good...like she knows what she's doing fr. ao3.

OKAY ONTO ARTISTS:

@mothmanavenue hasnt been doing much pjo stuff lately but when she does it's fire!! she made my pfp too.

@skysmadness is less active here but he's pretty active on instagram (same username) and just posted some nico art actually!! i love the way he draws faces. AND in general i love how he draws nico, he styles him really well.

oh boy @cindersart hasnt drawn pjo in FOREVER but they've been drawing since i was a kid. i have soooooo many of their works saved on my phone bc their comedic expressions KILL me and inspire so so many fics.

brand new follow for me but @the-sunniest-angels angels holy moly!!! they use colours SO well it shocks me so bad. i love how whipped nico is in their art lol

@delicate-sketch ... oh all of you know delicate sketch. she's got pfp's all over this site lol. and HOO boy do her paintings knock the breath out of you.......ive been thinking of her children of hades painting for a while like im always thinking about delicate demigods now. they are. they are

hasn't gone here in a while either (i am noticing a trend 😭😭) but @clingonlikeclingwrap drew a couple of my fics and they captured will angst SO well. love that to pieces.

and finally @cometjuice HI BELOVED.....theeeeee apollo cabin artist OF ALL TIME like oh my goodness i scroll thru their blog every day like the paper. endless endless w's.

ANYWAYS this was a lot but i hope ur can curate ur tumblr experience!! so many brilliant minds at work here!!

[open-heart-open-container]

now what? part one - bob floyd x reader

description: Y/N and Bob work in the local aquarium. It's their summer job - all set up by Y/N's mother, a long-time college friend of Bob's mother.

That being said, growing up together doesn't mean you have to like the person who is always there are your birthday parties and new year's celebrations. Even if you didn't want him there.

But there is a fine line between love and hate; a fine line between what others can see and what you can't

ao3 link!

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: college!au bob floyd - enemies to lovers (hehehe or are they a secret worse thing?), eventual smut? angst etc. appearance of other top gun maverick characters.

a/n: ok i am back with another fic - this was abandoned idea i had back in 2021 so i just jotted this up on the train home so its not proof read so idk hope u enjoy and please tell me if you want more!!!

CHAPTER ONE - The Cause

JUNE

‘Just because I’ve graduated university doesn’t mean that I’m not free all summer, Rooster. I have so much to prepare for - applying for postgrad, looking at trainee jobs at firms…’

‘But it is also your last summer of freedom, Y/N - live a little!’ 

‘I know, I know, but I need the money to spend on the amount of pints I will be drinking and the clothes I’m going to need if I get a job.’ 

‘But-’

You interrupt, ‘can we please just pick whatever shitty drink you are planning on getting yourself blocked on tonight and get out of this 7/11 please.’ 

‘Ah, not even a minute to think here, Y/N, you’re killin’ me!’

‘We’ve been here for 20 minutes.’ You deadpanned. ‘15 of those you’ve spent convincing to quit my job at the aquarium so I can get drunk with you, on money I would not have if I didn’t have my job.’

‘Alright, alright!’ Rooster laughed, picking up a cheap bottle of white rum. ‘How do you feel about rum and lemonade tonight?’

Shoving him in the shoulder, you laughed. 

‘Your liver will thank you in the years to come, Bradshaw.’ 

He grinned, brushing past you to pay. 

Standing in the linoleum aisle, you try to hold on to the feeling that this isn’t your last summer of freedom. Your inner monologue of years of late nights in a law firm and endless phone calls, meetings and emails flood your mind. Quitting has crossed your mind before; not just because you want to live more but because of your co-worker, Bob, sworn enemy, tormentor and your best friend’s other best friend. 

The 7/11 was pretty busy for a Tuesday night, you were used to the quietness of North Island; the few students that would drift in for a late-night snack stash or alcohol stash depending on the type of student, and the occasional business person sneaking in after a long day. 

Being home for just two days, somehow you were heading to the Bradshaw’s for ‘drinks’. Drinks meaning Bob’s parents were out of town and Bob had pulled together some of his friends from university, school and his younger sister’s friends to drink into the early hours. Whilst you were never one to turn down a night of music, sweaty bodies, and the burn of alcohol down your throat, nerves flooded your body any time you thought about spending any more time than you already do with the eldest Floyd and those nerves made it pretty easy for you to want, to need, to turn down the plans. But, who could say no to a face like Rooster’s or Nat’s. 

Anyways, your recent break-up needed a little bit of substance therapy. Or substance abuse, as Jake would call it. Hangman always had a way with words. 

‘Okay so are you really going to tell me what’s bothering you or am I just going to have to guess?’

The cold, early evening breeze sent goosebumps up your arms and legs. You turned to face him, cursing yourself silently for wearing a skirt - should’ve known better that tonight was going to be a cold one. 

‘Nothing, truly. I’m okay. Just tired - unpacking is the most exhausting thing.’

You knew he didn’t believe you but he didn’t push, just nodding and grabbing your arm and pulling you along. 

The walk from the 7/11 to the Floyd’s wasn’t long but it was so familiar. Things had changed, sure, new houses replaced the old and the once bright white lines demarking the road had weathered and were barely there, but it was familiar. It was home. But it had changed. A funny feeling, you mused. 

You heard the house before you saw it. The beat of whatever shitty early 2000’s club tune pulsed the ground as you waited for Bradley to hurry up, stop blethering and unlock the door. A cheeky grin flashed your way as he pulled open the door and you were met with the humidity of the Sahara and the smell of cheap beer and Victoria Secret’s perfume. Then you were met with the sight of him - catching his eye while a sycophantic, pretty blond followed him around like a lost puppy dog.

Home was a fickle thing. One minute it’s beautiful, the next the most infuriating thing you have ever seen. 

Smiles and greetings exchanged to familiar faces and new ones alike. The cold taste of the rum and lemonade slipped down your throat as you stood in the kitchen, just observing. Not participating, just watching. 

Some Franz Ferdinand song blared from the speakers as people mingled, flirted and drank their way around the room. The sun hadn’t set yet - but with the curtains drawn, it didn’t really matter. The early summer house parties were the best ones - before the heat of July and early August, before reality could set in you could enjoy June for what it was. 

As the night passed on, he hadn’t talked to you once. Strange. Another funny feeling. 

Funny feeling, that. Home wasn’t the only thing that was fickle it seemed. What was more fickle was every time you caught his eye it was as if Bob was already looking and as soon as your eyes met, his darted away as if you had never been there in the first place. 

—

The Smashing Pumpkins were playing. To Sheila, you thought, what an odd choice for an aquarium. 

The soft tones of the acoustic guitar floated through the corridors, swirling blue lit the ceilings as multi-coloured fish raced through each tunnel and turret. It was a comforting feeling - nothing changed in here, except for new life and the end. There wasn’t a need to be something you weren’t in here - pure magic and fascination coats the walls, you could be a child all you wanted all day and once you left it was back to reality. 

‘Hey, boss is calling.’ And then the peace was interrupted. 

Bob. You truly didn’t know where to start with him. In the beginning, it was just childish teasing, pulling hair and name calling, but as you got older it became different; constantly fighting for the attention of your parents - he always stole the spotlight, he could truly do no wrong. You just sat in the shadows, while he could tease and taunt you all he wanted with no repercussion it seemed. No chance to defend yourself against the blue-eyed boy. It didn’t help that you both were book-smart, had that same ‘wise-beyond-their-years’ countenance about you both. So alike yet so different at the same time. Where you could be extroverted, Bob’s introverted, shy persona made you seem crazy each time you’d rise to his taunts. 

Anyways, any chance of ever reconciling with Bob flew out the window when you were seventeen. Years later, the knife is still stuck in your back.

With a short nod, you followed him through the doors. 

‘What no bitchy comment, darlin’?’ He shoved you lightly. 

‘Not the time, nor the place, asshole.’ You whispered back fervently, briskly walking ahead to shake him. Trying to shake the lightning strike in your abdomen from his touch. No such luck. 

‘Ah right, I forgot that you get on your high horse when we’re at work.’ He murmured back. 

‘No, Bob, you’ve forgotten that my Mom, your godmother, of all fucking people, owns this aquarium. You wouldn’t have a job if it wasn’t for her and neither would I - so I’m sorry that I think there’s a certain amount of respect that you owe her to not start shit here.’ 

‘You know, Y/N, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t argue with your co-workers on your first shift back.’ The voice of your mother called from behind you. 

The shit-eating grin on Bob’s face filled your body with rage. That prick. To make matters worse, you know how much your Mom loves Bob. She was the son she never had. And you, the daughter she wasn’t too sure what to do with. 

‘Mornin’ Mrs Y/L/N.’ 

Still such a suckup. It took so much out of you not to roll your eyes at his “do-goodery.” 

She gave him a smile, ‘Alright you two, you’re in the gift shop today. I decided to put Nat and Jake on tickets so-’ Your glare cut her off, a tense stare she matched. ‘You better be on your best behaviour.’ 

The stare became pointed at the boy bouncing on the balls of his feet beside you. He had a persistent itch to be moving all the time, something he’d put down to anxiety and something you’d put down to something he does to purely annoy you. 

‘Both of you.’ With that, she turned and walked towards an exhibit. 

Sighing, you faced Bob. ‘Right well. We better set up, don't you think?’

Raising his brow, he nodded. ‘Lead the way, princess.’ 

You huff. ‘Don’t call me that.’ 

‘What?’ There was that quiet smirk on your face that you wanted to punch (no, kiss) off. ‘Thought you enjoyed getting the princess treatment.’ 

Rolling your eyes, you spare him a quick dirty look. ‘I’m not dignifying that with a response.’ 

‘Wow, what a wonder! I’ve rendered you silent, darlin’.’ 

You hated how he called you darling; the timbre of his southern accent dropping the ‘g.’ You hated how sometimes the sound echoed at night when you pretend to not be lying awake thinking of him. 

You really have nothing to say to him right now. Too busy thinking about the hordes of children begging their parents to buy them some overpriced shark teddy. You quite liked the kids that would buy rocks. Something so innocent about a child picking up a very obviously fake amethyst, marvelling at its beauty, then begging their poor, unsuspecting parent that they must have this rock even if it costs 5 dollars. They always reminded you of… well, you. But you grew out of that childish desire to own rose quartz or anything else after Bob told your fourth grade class that you collected rocks. Safe to say you weren’t entirely popular in middle school. 

There was stock to be put out, toys to arrange and a cash register to organise. At least you weren’t on tours for today. Fanboy almost always volunteered for them. And, in all fairness, he was good at them - you had to give it to them. It was almost smart putting Jake and Natasha on tickets, drawing parents in with two incredibly beautiful people then letting Fanboy rile their kids up instead of giving the parents something to look at (not the fish, Jake and Nat) and instead of tiring their kids out.

The gift shop wasn’t all bad. It’s peaceful in those first 15-20 minutes when the aquarium has just opened - not a single family makes it past the ‘petting pool’ for a good while. Then at closing time. Usually no one is there for the graveyard tours; the last one starts at 5pm. Then it's just mostly kids, high on whatever edible they’ve taken, and they don’t really care for stuffed animals when you’re seventeen and trying to escape this place. Yet, you can’t enjoy the peace because Bob is here. His presence is enough to irk you and there’s rarely been a time where his presence hasn’t pissed you off. 

You’ve known him your whole life - he’s followed you everywhere and you can’t shake him. It pains you to admit that you wouldn’t know what to do if you had to shake him. 

‘Whatcha thinkin’ about?’ Bob looks at you with those big, bright blue eyes with a hint of concern. 

You glare and he almost shifts back to normal. 

‘Jeez, forget I asked.’ 

How do you tell the one person you swore long ago you’d spend eternity loathing that you were scared about the day he would leave. Which could be soon. Considering that every single one of your close friends were signing up to become naval aviators; that’s what most people did around here. Top Gun was located so close. Those pilots were legend and almost every teenager or college-aged kid from around here wanted to be them. So many of those pilots were mythical beings. Except Rooster’s Dad - even though he wasn’t here, he almost was because Rooster was here. Which told you all you needed to know - the risks were too high and death was inevitable. Yet, Bradley was signing up, Jake was too, Nat, Bob and Fanboy. Every single one of them had their callsigns already figured out - no need for them to blessed upon them when they got there. 

And soon you’d be alone. Probably still at this aquarium with no Bob to annoy you with his perfectly slicked hair, how nice his back looked when it was turned and how unbelievably frustrated he made you. 

‘You have fun at the party? Ma said she didn’t see you.’ He’s trying, or at least he’s trying to convey that he’s actually nice to her sometimes. 

‘Your Mom was at the party? Wow didn’t realise we all still had to be chaperoned.’ You still felt bad that you didn’t get to say hi to her if she was there. 

‘Low blow, sweetheart. She was there for a bit, wanted to say hi to Rooster and you.’ He pauses as if he’s thinking of what he’s about to say, weighing it up. 

‘Y’know she thinks of you like one of my sisters.’ The words come out heavy from his mouth. You blink at him in surprise. You’d never addressed how close your families were and how distant you both were. 

‘Well, my Mom considers you the son she never had so,’ she meets his eye, ‘I guess we’re even then.’ 

‘Was it even a competition in the first place, Y/N?’ He says it so softly, and his eyes pour into yours - a depth of emotion you weren’t sure he had. 

‘I-’ 

It stunned you, slightly. What was admitting to? What did he mean by that? 

It didn’t matter though as kids came hurtling through the doors of the gift shop and the conversation was slowly forgotten. You never looked in his direction and, to the best of you knowledge, he never as much even looked at you. 

Bob who always been so shy, so sweet to everyone else was a chip on your shoulder. The biggest baggage you carried around was his teasing, his want to be one-up-on-you. The standard you could never quite measure up to was your Mom’s best friends’ son. And everyone loved Bob. His quietness allowing him to fly under the radar. Yet, you spent all of high school and college at each others’ throats. And he could say what he liked, slightly hummed in the noise of a frantic classroom or college dining hall where no one would hear and it drove you crazy how no one saw Bob for what he is. An antagoniser, a smart-ass.

That sweet boy you used to play in the sandbox with and playfight over who got the last ice-pop at the family barbeque had grown up to be a hard ass. The boy whose surname you used to attach to your own and imagine your wedding was someone you swore you’d never feel anything but simmering loathing for. And somehow, someway he was admitting defeat? 

This was going to be a long summer.