#I started to answer this earlier and got distracted I’m sorry

[maskedbyghost]

You were facing the wall.

Arms tucked close to your chest, your back turned toward the door, and a blanket pulled up to your chin even though it wasn’t cold. Your eyes were wide open. You weren’t even trying to sleep. The light from the hallway bled under the crack in the door, and every time it shifted, your breath caught, half-hoping, half-dreading that it was him.

He’d left without another word. You’d told him to sleep on the couch, and he didn’t argue. Just looked at you for a moment, his lips pressed into that hard line he always got when he was trying not to say something he’d regret. And then he walked out.

That was almost an hour ago.

You blinked slowly, eyes stinging. You hated fighting with him. Hated the way it left your chest tight and your mind buzzing. You hated the silence afterward even more. And this time… you weren’t even sure who was more in the wrong.

The fight started with something stupid. It usually did. You’d asked him why he hadn’t texted back when you messaged him earlier in the day—just a casual check-in, nothing serious. He said he’d been busy. You said you understood, but something about your tone made it obvious you didn’t. And then he said, “It’s not always about you,” and you froze.

It wasn’t just the words. It was the way he said them, like you’d been a burden instead of someone he missed. Like he didn’t have space for you in his head that day, and you were wrong for noticing it.

You’d snapped and told him if he didn’t want to talk to you, he could’ve just said that. Told him you weren’t going to beg him for attention. He looked at you like he wanted to speak but didn’t, and you’d finally said it.... go sleep on the couch, Simon, because you didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t hurt more.

And he left.

Now you were here, pretending the pillow was more comfortable than his chest, replaying the words in your head until they lost all their meaning. You hadn’t even told him goodnight. And he hadn’t told you he loved you, not like he always did before bed.

Your throat tightened. You blinked at the wall again, trying to will yourself not to cry, not now when you’d already said your piece, already told him to leave. You didn’t want to be the one to break first. But still, your chest ached in that way that only came when something between you felt wrong.

A floorboard creaked somewhere outside the bedroom. Then silence came, a pause just long enough to make you question if you’d even heard anything at all.

And then—

The door creaked open slowly.

You stayed still. You didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to seem too eager, didn’t want him to think you’d just forget everything because he came back. But your heart betrayed you, picking up speed the moment you heard his quiet footsteps on the carpet. Then the bed dipped behind you, before his arm wrapped around your waist, fast like he was afraid you’d push him away if he didn’t do it quick.

You didn’t.

“I know you’re awake,” he said quietly, his breath brushing against the back of your neck.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“I thought about what you said.” His voice was low and soft. “And I thought about what I said. And I didn’t come back to fight. I just... I needed you to hear this.”

He paused, exhaling slowly.

“I fucked up,” he admitted. “I was tired and distracted, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just lookin’ for me and I made you feel like you were too much.”

Your eyes burned. Still, you didn’t speak.

“I never want you to feel that way,” he murmured. “Not ever. Not when you text me, not when you talk to me, not when you just exist near me. You’re not a burden. You’re… you’re the best part of my day, and I treated you like you weren’t. I’m sorry, love.”

You felt his hand squeeze your side gently, like he was grounding himself just as much as he was trying to comfort you.

“I meant what I said before I left,” he added, “but I meant it wrong. It’s not always about you, but it should be. You’re my person. I should’ve answered you. I should’ve checked in. You have every right to need me.”

You blinked hard, finally managing to whisper, “I wasn’t trying to fight.”

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “I know, love. You were just tryin’ to connect. And I shut down on you. I let shit get in my head and I pushed you out. I won’t do that again.”

You turned slowly, finally facing him. His eyes met yours in the dim light, and god, he looked wrecked.

“I just missed you,” you whispered. “That’s all.”

He reached up and cupped your face gently. “I missed you too. More than I can say. And I don’t want to end a single fuckin’ day with you wonderin’ if I care. I do. So much.”

You leaned in, tucking your face against his neck. His arms wrapped around you fully now, pulling you in close, holding you tight like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, before his lips pressed against your hair.

“I’m not goin’ back to the couch,” he said softly. “Even if you ask again. I’ll sleep on the floor next to you before I ever leave you like that again.”

That made you laugh, just a little.

“Sorry I got mean,” you mumbled.

He smiled into your hair. “You weren’t mean. You were hurt. And I made you feel that way. I deserved it.”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his face. “You’re really good at this. Talking about it. Most guys just shut down.”

“I used to,” he admitted. “Didn’t fix a damn thing. I’d rather talk and hold you than be right.”

You snorted. “You were wrong though.”

He grinned. “I know. Fully aware of it.”

You finally let your body relax fully against him, tension leaving piece by piece as he kissed your forehead and whispered, “Still love you, even when we fight. Especially then.”

“I love you too,” you murmured.

And you meant it. Even when it was hard. Even when things got messy. Because he came back. Because he chose to come back and say the things that mattered. Not everyone did.

But Simon did. And that was enough.

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid @syofrelief @avgdestitute @sheepdogchick3 @echo9821 @imalapdog @foxintheferns @trulovekay @preeyas-world @ruleroftides @rose37373

[meow-xine]

Ohhh I am so obsessed with him 😫

Shota Aizawa x Fem reader

Cw: smut, some plot… oral (F! receiving)

Background: Aizawa is your husband but you haven’t seen him in WEEKS due to him being caught up in work.

Shota has just been so busy as of late. Truth be told, with the two of you sharing so many aspectual responsibilities – many stemming from Shota’s job, you had felt a strain on your relationship. Shota rarely had time for you anymore, him spending more time now than ever at work, trying to make sense of villain attacks and dorms. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks, the only interaction being a text or a late night call. Of course you kept yourself busy, going to work during the day then occupying yourself with small things around the house; cleaning, crafts. No matter how much you distracted yourself though, there was no way to stop the yearning for your husband. You knew it was necessary, and you would in no way ever try to stop him from doing what he needed to, but you just wish he could take one day off. Life just hadn’t been the same.

“I just miss you so much.” you sobbed into the phone resting next to you, laying down curled over a pillow. This had become a sort of routine, Shota calling you up later than he should, knowing that you would be awake and expecting to hear from him. “I know, I miss you too. It’s.. it’s just been so complicated trying to balance everything. Know that if I could come home to you I would.” He sighed. It wasn’t much easier on him, and you knew that. You often found yourself getting off the phone feeling more guilty than anything. He had a lot on his plate, and you were sure your complaining wasn’t of much help. There was just something about the late night that seeped into your words, taking control and slurring your speech. You weren’t used to staying up so late.

“I’m sorry baby.. I just don’t feel good without you here. It’s too quiet and dull.” you continued your earlier recurring thought. Silence interrupted by your small hiccups filled the air. It was stagnant and dense, but not uncomfortable. “You know it breaks my heart to hear you like that honey.” He interrupted the silence, followed by a sigh. “I’ll do what I can to see you as soon as possible.” he continued. “You promise?” “I promise. Now get some sleep love, it’s late.” And with that you hung up and fell asleep, remaining in the same curled position. 

That was two weeks ago, and since then you had been carefully watching the news reports and attacks against both Shota and his students. It was scary stuff and you constantly had to remind yourself that he would be okay– that they would all be okay. Even with reminders though, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and out of control, sometimes forgetting to breathe until Shota got a break on TV. You followed up with texts and phone calls afterwards too, needing more than just a digital image showing he was safe. 

Finally, amongst the sea of phone calls you had gotten, it was your husband.

“[Name]? Baby?” it was Shota, he sounded happier than he had in a while and you swore you could feel his smile through the phone. “Hi Sho, I’m here. How are things going?” you smiled too, not being able to contain yourself after hearing him. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Things are going good, especially today. I rarely ever take time off work so it was pointed out that I am long overdue for some PTO.” “Oh yay! Do you know when exactly you might be getting some days?” You stood up from the couch you were sitting on in your shared home. “Well…” He started, but before he could finish his sentence the doorbell rang. “Oh, I’m sorry, give me one moment, someone’s at the door..” He chuckled, “Sure.”

You made your way to the door making sure to hold your phone to your chest before answering. Upon opening the door, the phone in your hand was long forgotten, falling to the floor. It was Shota on the other side, lazily holding his phone to his ear. He hung up and opened his arms, allowing you to run into them.

“You’re here! Oh I’ve missed you so much.. I wish you would have told me you were coming ,I would have worn something nicer.” You rambled feeling embarrassed for just wearing one of his shirts and PJ shorts. Not leaving enough time for you to finish a thought, Shota wrapped his arms around you, one snaking around your waist and the other rubbing your back. “Hi baby..” 

You released yourself from his embrace, taking a moment to look at his face and notice the small differences. He looked tired and weary, no thanks to the battles he had endured. Despite everything, it was still your Shota standing in front of you. Your eyes moved down to his lips and before you could think you were all over them. You pulled back, apologizing, “Oh! Sorry,” you knelt down to pick up some of his bags, “let’s let you get settled in first.” 

The two of you carried his bags to your bedroom, placing them on the floor. Before Shota made an effort to unpack, he walked over to you and brought you in for another hug, this one tighter than the last. One of his hands was wrapped warmly against your head, bringing you closer to his chest. You inhaled, making a mental note to lock his sweet musk scent away for when he inevitably had to leave again. “I missed you so much baby, you have no idea.” he spoke, his voice soft and gravelly. 

You loosely pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, one of your hands holding his cheek and his hands still lingering low around your waist. “I missed you too Sho. It felt impossible without you here. I’m just so happy you’re okay.” He smiled down at you and planted a small kiss on your lips. He deepened the kiss, disentangling your entire being yet somehow making you feel more full than you ever had all at once. His hand was now placed against the nape of your neck, all the while slowly backing you up into the nearest wall. 

Once you felt your back touch the wall you couldn’t help but break free of the kiss and gasp, being too entranced to notice the position you were in until now. Shota wasted no time in returning to the kiss, using the hand on your neck to bring you closer to him. The two of you melted into the kiss, a mix of small groans and whines left Shota’s mouth as he lost himself in you. He broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to look at you beneath his frame before speaking, “Baby I need you right now..” he groaned, searching for approval in your eyes. You displayed agreement through a nod and took a step forward. Shota, before beginning to take off your clothes, gently let his hands run across your body longer than he needed to. It had been so long since he had been able to feel your skin underneath him, he wanted to savor it. 

He took off your shirt, admiring what was underneath as he lifted it above your head. Once he discarded it to the side, he worked on removing your bra. You were now completely bare from the waist up and your dark haired husband couldn’t help but stare. “Oh I’ve missed you so much.” He lowered his earlier kisses down to the side of your neck, bending his knees as he moved down to kiss your exposed breasts, one hand massaging the other as he worked. You let out soft moans, the pleasure slowly surging through you. It was more intense than usual, it had felt like eons since you had been touched by him, yet it seemed he still knew exactly how to please you. 

‘C’mere baby,” he led you to your shared bed, sitting you on the edge. You were almost laying down, your elbows propped up stopping you from doing so. Shota got down to his knees in front of you, sliding his hands on either side of your thighs and he slid your shorts off, your panties being the only remaining article. Upon seeing your wetness seeping through the cloth, Shota chuckled  “Awh baby, you’re soaked.” He looked up at you with lust clouded eyes. “Let me touch you, please love.” It took you a moment to fully process and respond to him, you were far too distracted by the sight of your usually dominant husband kneeling before you, so undone. “Yes-yeah, of course you can.” you responded after far too long of a pause. 

He returned one of his hands to its earlier position, slid against your thigh only now massaging you slowly. His other hand moved up slowly to your clothed pussy and you gasped when you felt him touch you. He used his hands to spread your legs open and teased small traces along your inner thighs, moving his face closer. You shivered as you felt the warmth of his breath close in. He planted a trail of the most gentle kisses up your thighs, pausing once he got just close enough to make you antsy. You whimpered, “please Sho..need you..”

“You know I can’t say no when you ask like that.” he smirked, then slid your panties off, gliding a finger down your slit. He inched his face closer, attaching his mouth to your clit after a few small licks. The wave of pleasure crashed down on you all at once, “Oh Sho…” you moved your hands to grab his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Once his gentle demeanor faded, he was devouring you like a madman, groaning and mumbling into your arousal. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this..” he lazily groused, slipping two fingers into you. He curled them up into you, the sheer amount of unfamiliar pleasure was almost overstimulating.

Your grip on his hair tightened, indicating he must have been doing something right. He paused to look up at you, “Yeah? You like that? ‘Course you do..” he trailed off, his mouth finding you again. Your nerves heated your entire body, that combined with the growing knot in your belly was enough to push you over the edge. You bucked your hips, now riding his fingers more than anything. He pulled his face up to look at you again. “Oh baby you look so pretty coming undone f’me right now.” his fingers sped up reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. “So pretty.”

“I’m- fuck.. M’ so close Sho..” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Rolling your hips at the same speed his fingers were fucking you, you couldn’t help but toss your head back in satisfaction, your release smashing against you. “That’s it baby.. good girl..” Shota spoke, his fingers never once slowing until you were worn out. You whined due to the absence that filled you as he removed his digits. 

He stood up, looming over your relaxed frame. He knelt down to kiss your forehead, grabbing one of your hands to help you sit upright. “You did so good baby.. So good.” He sat next to you, stroking your hair. “Oh I love you Shota, so much.” you whined into him. ”I love you too [Name].” He smiled, honestly not wanting to get up. “Now let's get you cleaned up, it’s late.”

“What about you though? I feel bad not returning anything..” You said, feeling a mix of pleasure and guilt all in one go. “Don’t worry about me, we have plenty of time.” Shota responded. He walked to the bathroom, starting a hot bath with a mix of calming oils; then returned to you and brought you to the tub.

The two of you were slipped in you got comfortable in the middle of his legs, your back resting against his chest. “I love you Shota.” you closed your eyes, feeling relaxed enough to go to sleep right in the tub.

He wrapped his arms around your torso. “I love you too, [Name].”

[joshujin]

#11: i can’t promise you that x jeonghan 🙏🏼

(っ˶˘ ᵕ ˘˶)ᐣ✎ ᝰ request from this prompt game

can't promise you that

pairing: jeonghan x reader cw: mention of weed, cheating (not b/w main characters), toxic hannie <3 a/n: sorry, my brain is stuck on cheating rn since i’ve been working on “dude, nice try!” lol. hope you like this!

you exit your apartment, hulking trash bag in hand. it’s heavy, burning your forearm as you attempt to keep it off the ground, and you curse yourself for never taking the garbage out earlier, when it’s still a manageable weight.

you turn into the hallway to get downstairs to the dumpster when you find someone you don’t recognize trying to enter your neighbor, jiyeon’s, apartment. he’s crouched in front of the door, one knee on the floor like he’s been there long enough, he got tired of standing.

“what the fuck?” he mutters to himself as he puts in a code and the lock beeps erratically.

the stranger doesn’t notice you until you come to a stop a few paces away and let your trash hit the floor with an unceremonious clunk.

his frame stiffens but he doesn’t look up immediately, instead opting to side-eye you. he must have mistaken you for somebody else because he releases the tension in his shoulders and sighs, turning to you with a slightly strained but winsome smile.

you've definitely never seen this person; you would've remembered.

“hi!” he says a little too loudly. a little too brightly.

you frown. “why are you trying to get into jiyeon’s apartment?”

“‘hi! how are you?’ ‘i’m fine, thanks! my name is jeonghan, and you are?’” he mumbles sarcastically to himself as he turns back away from you to tinker with the lock again.

“i don’t know if i owe good manners to strange men trying to get into my neighbor’s apartment,” you say, crossing your arms as you cautiously watch him put in another wrong password.

obviously giving up, he reaches up into his chin-length hair, undoes a bobby pin, and to your horror, he shoves it into the key hole and starts violently jiggling.

you really need to be better about bringing your stun gun out with you. in fact, maybe you need to be better about not confronting strangers at all.

“well, good thing i’m not a strange man,” jeonghan exclaims, raising his eyebrows and shooting you a closed, tight-lipped smile. the hair that was previously pinned back now sweeps down into his face and he has to keep shaking it back to see properly. “i’m jiyeon’s friend.”

against your better judgment, you relax a little at that. “friend,” you repeat, deadpan. “well, i’ve never seen you around.”

he snorts but he’s obviously unamused. “i’ve been here. not often, but i have,” he says, sighing when it’s clear the violent jiggling isn’t helping. he takes a breath like he needs to calm down before trying a gentler approach. “jiyeon is having a family emergency. she asked me to stop by and get her some stuff she needs.”

“oh,” you breathe, letting your arms fall from where they were stubbornly crossed. “i’m sorry to hear that. is she okay?”

jeonghan tilts his head and squints one eye like he’s thinking. “uhhhh, yeah? for the most part?” you take it he’s too distracted with the door to talk normally. “she’s just not answering her phone and she changed the code since i last came.”

he says that last part like it’s the biggest inconvenience of his life.

“well, i’m sure if you explain, the landlord can open the door for you!”

“nah, don’t wanna bother them this late.”

“it’s only eight,” you inform him.

he glances up at you and laughs a little like he can’t believe he’s here. “like i said, late. they’re probably off the clock.”

“oh no, minghao is available around the clock!” jeonghan’s fingers work quicker now. “he’s really great about helping his tenants! well... he'll probably complain a little, but he's still going to insist on helping. i know where he lives! he's just one floor up!” the knob shakes from how fast he’s moving, quickly entering violent jiggling territory again. “i can go and get—”

the lock clicks and the door swings open, jeonghan practically falling over and into the apartment from how heavily he was leaning on it. you hear the sound of plastic crinkling from the pocket of his hoodie as he quickly gets up, gestures to the door, and smiles politely.

“no need! see? got it! thanks for the company!” he doesn’t bid you goodbye as he steps into jiyeon’s apartment and closes the door behind him.

you want to huff at him for being rude, but you know you also didn't give him a proper greeting, so you probably deserved that. you sigh as you bend to grab your trash bag, groaning when you remember how heavy it is.

you make your way down the stairs, trash heavy enough that you have to stop every few steps to set it down on the ground. there's only one dumpster for tenants to throw their garbage into, and it's across the apartment building. you know that no matter how much you complain to minghao about how far it is from your unit (and how there's more than enough space for another dumpster at the bottom of the stairs near jiyeon's unit), he won't budge because "you can just take out your trash before it's bursting, you know that, right?"

"jesus, i need to work out more," you pant as you pick up the bag one more time, enduring the burn in your forearm as you try to make it all the way to the dumpster in one go.

you finally make it, and you struggle enough to get it in that you have a thin layer of sweat on your forehead by the time you're done. you turn back the way you came from, eager to get back to your apartment and get ready for bed.

you only make it a few steps up the stairs when you hear: "oh, hey."

you look over your shoulder to find jeonghan at the front gate, his back pressed up against the push bar since his arms are full of random shit. you stop and turn fully to face him without leaving the step.

"hi," you return. "i see you have jiyeon's stuff. that was quick."

"yeah," he laughs a little. "i wanted to—" he wobbles a little when a box almost falls from his little mountain of things. "uh, i—"

jeonghan stops speaking altogether, stepping forward and letting the door close behind him. he walks forward until he's standing just in front of the first step, head slightly craned back to look up at you.

"i wanted to say sorry," he announces. "i might have been a little short with you back there. i was just... kind of stressed, i guess."

"no worries," you assure him. "your friend is having an emergency and her door was giving you a hard time. i get it."

jeonghan smiles and this time, it isn't constricted by the tightness it was before. it dawns on you just how cute his smile is now—the way it makes his cheeks plumper, more prominent, and his eyes pretty crescents.

"right," he says. "thanks for offering your help, though. i appreciate it." you settle for nodding and offering him a smile of your own.

his lips part but nothing comes out as he continues to stare. you try not to fidget, suddenly too aware that your hair is a mess from making dinner, your shirt probably has pasta sauce splatter on it, and you're still a tiny bit sweaty because of the trash—and if you think about it, because of minghao too. mostly because of minghao.

"i, uh... never even got your name."

you raise your eyebrows playfully, suppressing a laugh. "i mean... do you need it?"

his laugh is abrupt and loud like that was the last response he expected. "uh, yeah," he finally says when his laughs subside. "i do."

you hum and nod. "and why is that?"

he shrugs, a faint blush on his cheeks. "what if i want to see you again? how will i find you?"

you smirk, gesturing vaguely to the space around you. "relax, prince charming, you literally know where i live."

he rolls his eyes in exasperation. "are you always this difficult with men who want your number?"

"oh is that what you're trying to get?" you ask. "because you asked me for my name."

he grins. "well?"

you fake a sigh of defeat as you take the few steps down and meet him on solid ground. his head is tilted down to look at you, and you realize you enjoy the constant attention now that he's not so preoccupied with a lock.

you tell him your name and he repeats it, staring so intently at you, you almost want to take a step back. instead, you do the opposite, taking a tiny step forward when you notice something in jeonghan's hair. you reach up and grab it, realizing it's a fleck of glitter.

jeonghan pays it no mind. "is there anything else you want to give me?"

that makes you laugh. "sure. it's—"

"hands are kind of preoccupied," he reminds you, giving you a sheepish smile.

your eyes fall to the items his arms hold tightly to his torso, and you tilt your head in confusion as you process what he's gathered for jiyeon's family emergency for the first time.

one medium sized file box, a quart-sized ziploc bag with a glass pipe, a grinder, and a smaller baggie of bud in it, several hoodies, two boxes of lego sets, and a few books.

you frown skeptically. "what... interesting things jiyeon needs for her... emergency..."

jeonghan follows your gaze and nods. "yeah, what can i say? girl has her priorities all mixed up."

you look back up at him, and you think he's too laidback to be telling you anything but the truth, but his eyes also flit back and forth between you and jiyeon's items before finally staying on you. and when they decide to stay on you, they stay on you. piercing and purposeful and like he'd have to die before he took his eyes off you.

you have no idea if you're being dumb. you do know you hate your hormones because the reaction your body has to jeonghan's steady gaze pushes you to throw caution to the wind.

"i'll give you my number..." you say slowly and hesitantly. "but you have to promise me you're not some kind of little, evil demon man who robs people on his downtime."

jeonghan grins. "i can't promise you that," he says, voice low and eyes full of mischief. "but," he interjects when you're about to complain, "i can promise you i have never robbed a person in my entire life."

you snort at the admission that he could still be an evil demon. "okay, fine. give me your phone."

"again, hands preoccupied."

you scoff. "okay... how are you going to take my number?"

"on my phone."

you narrow your eyes at him. "so give me y—"

"it's in my back pocket," he says, shit-eating smirk on his face now.

you fight to keep your own grin off your face, lips puckering and tongue poking the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling and enabling him.

"and i can't really reach back there and grab it..." he sighs dramatically. "so you're going to have to."

you laugh humorlessly, glaring at the ceiling above you two for a moment before shaking your head and stepping forward.

"i see why you couldn't promise me you weren't a demon," you mutter. "which one?"

"left."

you reach around him, trying to be brave and maintain his intense eye contact as your hand meets the denim of his jeans. but in the game of sexually tense staring, jeonghan seems to be a champion. you look away when your hand slips into this pocket, freezing when your fingers meet nothing.

you look back at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

his smirk deepens. "oh, sorry. my left. your right."

your eyebrows settle into a glare. "funny."

without warning, you pinch his butt through the denim before taking your hand back and quickly grabbing his phone out of his other pocket. he flinches a little but his face turns a shade of pink that tells you he liked it.

"okay," you say once you're done. "it's in there."

instead of slipping it back into his jeans, you rest it on top of the pile of hoodies.

"i'll call you," jeonghan says, looking too proud of himself for scoring your number. you like it, though—feeling like you're a prize he just won.

"do that."

he doesn't call; he texts. and he texts just 30 minutes later. you're about to open it when you hear a bloodcurdling shriek from the hallway. you're up and outside in seconds, finding yourself in front of jiyeon's apartment, where her door is wide open and she's standing just a few steps inside, her hands over her mouth.

you're mortified when you look inside.

it looks like someone ate three tons of glitter and then promptly threw it up in jiyeon's living room. every surface, every cushion, every screen—everything is covered in glitter.

"oh my god..." you breathe.

jiyeon whirls around to look at you and she shrieks again, making you flinch. you two never really had the chance to get close because the sheer volume of her voice overstimulated you.

"can you believe this?!" she screams. "what the fuck is this?!"

your mouth stops functioning properly, simply opening and closing like a dumb fish. do you tell her her friend did this? well, obviously he's not her friend! your stomach twists. i gave this psycho my number.

she gasps sharply and you follow her gaze. she stomps over to a note on the counter and reads it out loud.

"jiyeon, i wanted to celebrate you and your relationship with m—"

her eyes widen comically as she continues to read silently. her jaw drops as far as you think it can humanly go before clamping shut with a threatening snap.

"are you fucking kidding me?!" she shouts before simply screaming at the top of her lungs and tearing the note apart.

you slowly back away from the open door, leaving jiyeon to her meltdown and escaping back into your apartment. you don't need to be there when she realizes all the random things jeonghan did steal.

in a daze, you settle back into your couch and you unlock your phone.

you suppose things can be worse. you just can't ever cheat on jeonghan. and with your spotless track record and his face looking the way it does, that will be incredibly easy.

[therookieimagines]

Not that he cares..or he does..- Tim Bradford x fem!reader 3/?

Summary: You’ve been living with Tim for a few months now, and after some intense staring contests Tim’s finally ready to admit how he feels, but what happens whenever things take a spicy turn?

Warnings: SMUT AT THE ENNNND, Tim calling you a whore and slut

It had been a good month or two, you were healing great and ready to get back into policing, but with slight changes, you felt like with the feelings that were arising towards Tim after living with him for some time would get in the way of your work, so, you were transferring TOs to Harper until you could become a detective. It wasn’t that you were doing anything inappropriate with each other, you both just, shared a bed, and a room..and a closet..you were basically dating without the dating. Tim had gone back to work about three weeks ago, diving head first right into cases, but not without calling you every hour on the hour, he couldn’t help it, you had been shot, maybe it had healed now but what if something happens? Again? He had to make sure you were safe.

Tim groaned at his desk holding the phone to his ear listening for the third time as he heard your voicemail “this is y/n! Leave a message, unless your Bradford or Nolan, then just text me” he was growing irritated with every passing second. “Harper! I’m leaving to go run a personal errand, I’ll be back in twenty” he said sternly before his desk phone started to ring loudly “hello? Y/n?” He answered quickly, hunched over his desk waiting for your reply “Tim? Why are you calling me like something happened are you okay?” You asked softly, he could hear the sound of dishes clanking faintly in the background “why didn’t you answer? I thought something might’ve happened you know whenever I’m calling from work it’s a-“ you cut him off with a giggle “it’s a check-in, I know, but I was doing dishes and didn’t realize my phone was on the bed, I’m sorry, I’m okay though I swear” you reassured as you finished drying the last plate, trying to stifle your groans in pain as you reached above you to put one of Tim’s thermos’s away “hey hey, what was that? That doesn’t sound okay to me” he asked starting to bite his nails “ya know what no I’m coming home” he decided before you were quick to cut him off “Tim Bradford. Stay on your shift, criminals need you out there to ruin their fun, just like you ruin mine” you teased “I’m cleaning the apartment for us, that way we’re not dealing with any messes tonight” you explained feeling terrible Bradford had to come home and clean up after you the last couple of weeks because of your injury, he never actually minded it though, taking care of you was just like his job as a cop, he knew he was doing good, especially if it meant making sure you were happy and safe. “F-fine but..I’ll be home at 7pm sharp, got it?” You heard his voice say, you could tell he was still uneasy but you knew he’d be quickly distracted with the first call he got.

Tim was truthful on his word, the door unlocked at exactly 7pm, not a second later either, you watched as he immediately dropped his things by the door walking over to you “how’re you? Those noises you made earlier did not sound like stretching you sounded hurt, did you fall or run into something?” He asked worried, placing his hands on your shoulders examining your body “Tim, I’m fine, reaching above my head is still painful but..it’ll be alright, these things heal” you smiled patting his shoulder before sitting down “so, how’d your date go that Lucy set you up on?” You asked curiously, you knew Lucy had her own little scheme going on, you could tell the second she started asking about how you and Tim were handling living with each other. “What?- o-oh I didn’t know..you..knew..” he admitted sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “she was..nice..definitely not my type though, she wouldn’t stop instagramming her food, like honestly why can’t people just enjoy a meal?” He ranted, you just watched him smiling as he continued on and on as he poured himself a drink “hey why aren’t..you..answering..” Tim trailed off noticing you watching him in awe “why are you watching me, you creep” he teased sitting down in the recliner not far from where you were on the couch.

“Seriously!” He groaned dropping his head “quit staring at me! It’s creepy and weird!” Tim continued setting his drink down walking over eyeing you suspiciously, you couldn’t hide your smile, you knew he wasn’t being serious, but the fact he was trying to be was adorable to you, he was doing his cop tatics on you like he would on a call, his hands firmly holding his regular belt, his glare stern and his eyes slowly clouding to a shade darker. “Ms. L/n, do I need to issue you a ticket for staring an officer of the law down?” He asked squinting his eyes “try it, I’ll take that ticket to court, officer Bradford” you smirked, the giddy smile never leaving your face once though, Tim stayed strong though, fighting every muscle in his body not to smile or laugh. “Unless..you explain yourself on why you’re staring at me?” He offered crossing his arms, all of his known intimidation tactics “you don’t scare me, Bradford!” You laughed leaning back on the couch, only for him to take a step closer “that’s officer Bradford to you” he corrected in a stern tone “oh my gooood! Fine! I was staring because it’s calming to see someone so…brutal and scary become so laid back and relaxed” you explained, Tim scoffed playfully “when have I ever been brutal!?” He asked sitting back down, this time next to you, on the floor “uhm, my first call? They shot at us and whenever you apprehended them I saw you, that body tackle was pretty brutal” you remarked “I did what I was trained in the academy to do!” He defended, you just laughed smiling as he just shook his head at you. “I just mean that..i don’t know” you sighed letting your head fall back “you’re just..comforting to watch” you shrugged looking towards him again, this time he was the one staring, taking in everything that was you.

You both kept taking turns for at least ten minutes before finally Tim broke the silence “alright it’s killing me” he huffed leaning up onto his knee placing a hand on your cheek “over the last year and a half..y/n I’ve loved you more and more everyday” he admitted, you watched him closely nodding your head before he pressed his lips firmly against yours, you weren’t sure if you should kiss him back or pull away, he was still technically your TO. You chose to kiss back though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he slowly made his way from the floor to the couch next to you “I never realized it until the night you made the backup call..I knew you were different from my other rookies but..not like this” he whispered pulling away from your lips, much to his minds dismay. “Don’t worry, Tim..I..I love you too, even if..you’re a rude asshole sometimes..and I wanna hit you..with a baton..-“ “hey! Where did all of this brutality come from!?” He yelped leaning away from you smiling “I’m just saying! I love you despite all the times you get on my nerves” you laughed leaning closer to him attempting to peck his lips, but he just kept leaning farther and farther back until he fell onto his back on the armrest, you kept moving though, eventually hovering over his body, your hair tickling his nose lightly. “Careful, rookie.” He warned, almost like you were going into dangerous territory, you were confused up until you realized just where your hand was, right above his growing erection, resting at the waistline of his jeans. “Shit sorry” you cursed moving it to hold his hand, you were now riddled with insecurities and embarrassment, why’d you put your hand there? What if he didn’t want things this fast? Were you a whore for moving this fast with him?

Tim could see the nervousness in your eyes, he kissed you once again, squeezing your hand gently before placing it back where it was only this time a few inches lower, you could feel a knot immediately form in your stomach as you felt how big his ‘package’ really was, I mean the police slacks were good to show things off but they could only do so much, so this was a lot bigger than expectations. “You’re alright, no need to apologize” he whispered running his hands through your hair pulling your head closer to his as he pressed his lips closer to yours, using his other hand to pull you basically onto his lap, only your hips were placed on his thighs. “Look at me, are you alright with this?..” he asked raising an eyebrow “we don’t have to, you know that, l/n, I’ll never force you into anything” he reassured, you knew every word he said was the truth, anytime a call was too much for you, he’d always make sure you were okay, never forcing you to do anything you were uncomfortable with (evictions were the worst for you growing up bouncing from house to house). You never answered him though, your mind starting to race again “I-i want to..” you whispered but your brain kept going back to the same topic, the moment he sees your scar he won’t be into you as much. Tim could almost read your face like a book, you wanted to but you were conflicted with something, he studied you, trying to figure out the cause without forcing you to speak, that’s whenever he spotted one of your hands fidgeting with your shirt, pulling and twisting, rolling the fabric between your fingers as you struggled to find the words.

You didn’t need to though, Tim effortlessly lifted you carrying you towards your bedroom before gently laying you on the bed, not wanting to hurt you anymore than you had already been hurt in your life. He pulled off your shirt running his eyes up and down your torso before his eyes landed on the distinct scar on your abdomen, he slowly lowered his head resting his chin on your hip bone “this is what’s bothering you?” He asked, at first you thought he was upset, you were probably being silly right? You shouldn’t be this stuck on a stupid scar. “Hey, I’ve got em too, from my time being deployed..my time serving as an officer..in our line of work those are like our little marks of how long we’ve been working as officers” he explained, your eyes were glued to him, watching as he sighed standing up, pulling his shirt and jeans off of his body “I’ve got them, it’s alright” he whispered slowly crawling onto the bed kissing your stomach all the way up to your lips “I’ve always thought you were beautiful..” he whispered against your lips, his words and kisses slowly became more aggressive, his hands running through your hair as you grinded your pussy against his thigh. “Fucking hell” he grunted gripping a fist full of his comforter, he so badly wanted to fuck you into the bed, show you just how badly he’s wanted to fuck you since the night he gave you a ride home from your friends party. You and your friend were sober but you weren’t dressed like it, he was completely shocked at the time, that someone as modest as you during your shifts would dress in such short shorts and such a tight t-shirt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, perfectly masking it as annoyance, he was very much hiding that fact he wanted to tell you exactly how he felt right then and there, how much he loved you and wanted you.

You took notice to Tim’s face, he was concentrated on something heavy, something that was turning his knuckles white from the sheets, as you grinded your hips yet another time that’s whenever you felt it, he was harder than he had been that whole night. “Fuck me, Bradford.” You said sternly, using a fistful of his hair to pull him down to eye level “I want you, to fuck me however you want, just, with a condom please” you asked/demanded, you could see something in his eyes flicker, almost like he had been conflicted and then made up his mind. He quickly leaned away from you, ripping your sweatpants open down the thigh, giving him perfect access to press his fingers against your clit playing with it roughly watching as your back arched, all because of him. It was fueling Tim with something he never felt before, watching you do that all over his fingers made him feel powerful and more of a man than ever “oh just wait, baby, you think this is good, just wait” he whispered biting his lip smirking, he slowly lowered his body until he was eye level with your pussy, your thighs twitching with anticipation as he blew lightly over your lace thong. “You were these just for fun..or did you have a plan to seduce an officer tonight?” He asked slowly pulling them off, he had to keep them safe, just incase he wanted to see you in them again, you bit your lip anxiously, not wanting to answer his question in fear of answering wrong and not getting the pleasure you so desperately needed.

Tim growled furrowing his eyebrows landing a harsh slap to your inner thigh, resulting in a light squeal out of you in response “answer me whenever I’m speaking to you.” He growled resting your legs on his shoulder using barely any strength to tug you to the end of the bed, his lips barely ghosting over your bare pussy. “N-no I just h-hadn’t gotten around to laundry y-yet” you whimpered, squealing whenever you felt his warm tongue leave a strip across your clit, he wasn’t finished though, using the tip of his tongue to trace figure eights around your clit. Right as you approached your climax, Tim pulled his mouth away, you whined desperately trying to pull his face back down between your legs, but he quickly grabbed your hands pinning them to the side “ah ah.” He tsked, grabbing handcuffs from his side table using them to keep your hands restrained to the side of you to the bed frame “okay how long has that clasp been there?” You asked never really noticing how quickly the bed you’ve been sleeping on for the past months turned into a sex chamber “did it whenever I first moved in, didn’t mention it to you whenever you moved in because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable” he explained casually as he placed a condom over himself lining his cock up before pushing into you quickly, it only took a few moments before he bottomed out inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a moan as you felt his tip brush against your cervix.

Tim groaned loudly, you felt so much tighter than he thought, he couldn’t stop his hips from moving though, desperate to chase the one high, fuck the one person he’s been dying to for the last year “fuck just like that, god damnit your pussy feels great” he growled, lifting your legs over his shoulders giving himself a new angle to fuck you at. You couldn’t process everything happening, you didn’t even know Tim could be this sex experienced, you always marked him off as more of a vanilla dude, but here he was, throat around your neck gently as he slammed his cock into you so hard you knew there’d be bruising tomorrow. “Fuck! Tim please! I’m gonna cum” you begged, his grip on your throat tightened as he halted his thrusts “what the hell did you just call me, rookie?” He growled, ghosting his lips over yours “I-I’m sorry, sir” you whimpered, trying to move your hips in any way that would get you some sort of release, but Tim just held your hips down, using your pussy to his own advantage “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, fuck it’s better than I’d hoped it would be, holy shit” he panted, you whimpered loudly, desperately pulling your shirt off, screaming out Tim’s name as he latched his lips around one of your nipples, his teeth nibbling and biting as you squirmed under him.

You could barely think straight anymore, you hadn’t ever made yourself feel this much pleasure, no toy, hand, or man ever had you like this before, and Tim made it look so easy, like it was nothing to have you basically mush in his hands. Tim’s grip on the sheets were tightening, he had abandoned holding your neck long ago, not wanting to cause you any bruising above the waist or seriously hurt you, he could feel himself about to cum but he had to hold on, he needed to know how good it feels for you to squeeze around his cock. He could tell you weren’t going to last long either, your moans and whimpers were growing a lot more high pitched and frequent and you were basically dripping onto the bed you were so wet “come on, show me how much you want it, work for it, rookie” he teased, flipping you both over watching as you desperately rode his cock, your nails scraping down his chest as he bucked his hips up to meet yours pulling away. You gasped as his fingers started attacked your clit again, this time the knot in your stomach was too tight, immediately bursting, Tim moaned loudly throwing his head back as he felt you tighten around him, your pussy throbbing desperate to get every last drop from his cock as he came deep inside of you, the condom busting rather quickly. Both of your hips didn’t stop though, Tim’s just got rougher “god damnit your pussy feels so amazing, fuck” he cursed, you felt as he quickly got hard again inside of you, this time you felt every twitch and thrust, you were highly sensitive now and Tim was hungrier now for your second climax. He showed no mercy as he repeatedly pulled out only to push right back into you bottoming out, flipping you onto your stomach so he could lift your hips into the air, fucking you deeper, you swear you could feel his cock poking the inside of your stomach he was so deep, but he just kept going, wrapping his hand around your neck to pull your bare back against him, his lips ghosting over your ear “cum for me, rookie, wanna see that tight pussy squeeze my cock, like the desperate rookie you are” he spat, it just made you hotter, the way he talked down to you always did something to you, the way he had little regard over your feelings sometimes but then would turn around and care so much about you if anything happened.

“Fuck you like that, slut? Like whenever your commanding officer calls you out for the little desperate slut that you are?” He continued pushing your face back down into the pillows, you moaned loudly trying to push your hips back into his, but he continued to fuck you at his pace, only whenever he felt your body tense did he pull out replacing his cock with his mouth, licking up any cum that dare leaked past his lips, your legs twitched trying to close to get his mouth away from your clit but he just held your legs open, continuing to lick any part of your thighs and pussy clean. “Now, I think I deserve some payment for my amazing services” he panted leaning up glancing to his still hard cock back to you “I just wanted to see how good my girl tasted” he whispered, you whimpered sealing your fate as you dropped to your knees taking his cock into your mouth, you already knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the entire thing, so you took it slow, swallowing around him as he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth. It lasted about two minutes before Tim scoffed “may I show you how it’s done, slut?” He asked, you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding, never taking his cock out of your mouth, he grunted grabbing your hair and his cock leading it down your throat “breathe. Don’t stop breathing just breathe throw it” he coached, his tone no longer rough but more of caring, not wanting to see you choke (but secretly a little). As he nearly bottomed out you gagged around him, causing him to stumble slightly, stabilizing himself with your shoulders, he quickly thrusted into your mouth, sending his cock back down the back of your throat, remembering his words you moaned around him, his pace picking up, and his grip on your hair tightening before you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat and pool in your cheeks as he pulled out, smirking as he slightly ran his tip over your lips leaving a coating of cum for you to lick clean. “Such a good girl” he whispered kneeling down to meet you “let’s get in the shower-“ you cut him off with a tired whine in protest, your legs felt like jelly and you were not about to stand in the shower for 30-45 minutes, no way. “Okay then let’s get in a bath, clean up, and we can watch this new true crime show I found, seems like something you’d be into” he shrugged, you smiled softly, even after calling you a desperate slut, he had already had a movie planned for afterwards “I guess…only if…you leave your shirt off..” you agreed using his hand to help yourself stand, Tim quick to stand to help stabilize you as he walked you to the bathroom “what is up with you and me being shirtless, l/n?” He asked as he helped you sit down next to the tub, allowing him to lean over to turn the water on and plug the drain “I dunno..you’re just..really nice to look at” you smirked giggling, before you knew it you were uncontrollably giggling “now what?” Tim asked, not being able to contain his smile as he watched you lean against the wall for support “I’m sorry! It’s just..we just..had sex!..” you whisper-yelled giggling loudly “seriously!? Are you a child or something!?” He laughed as he helped you into the warm bath, your muscles almost immediately relaxing as he slid in behind you, pulling you back to lean against his chest.

“I love you, y/n..and I know..with our jobs..but we can figure it out..right?” He asked softly, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, you leaned back resting your cheek on his shoulder “we can..and we will..” you whispered, reassuring him before placing a gentle kiss on his jawline and turning back around to face the faucet, letting Tim start to rinse your hair out.

Part 4 lovelies? Or start getting some one shots out there?

[crunchystarz]

"Different"

Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

Summary: Ramshackle's perfect seems to catch Malleus's eye but he can't seem to place his finger on why exactly they're so special.

Cw- reader is yuu, Malleus is obvious to his own feelings,Fluff , oneshot

Word count: 984

A/N: again my reqs and asks are open so if you enjoy my work don't be afraid to flood my inbox (I need the ideasヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/)

Malleus really couldn't understand what about you drew him in. He just couldn't think of a logical answer for why you'd occupy his thoughts even if you weren't even there. Or why he got so eager whenever it was time for the class you two shared.

You were different. You didn't try to avoid him like the plague. You never went out of your way to be overly formal with him. You were well. You.

You acted like he was just any other student, not caring of his title and reputation. You'd actually go out of your way to talk to him.

You never wanted anything out of him, just his time, nothing more. It made him happy. That you would be the one to seek him out. The dragon felt like you were a real friend.

Yet that still wasn't enough for the fae. Malleus still didn't understand why you were just so special enough for him to react to you so differently from everyone else.

He didn't know why his face would burn whenever you'd comment on his magic, or when you'd compliment him on the smallest of things.

He tried to chalk it up to him being happy that you actually liked those things and not just saying it to butter him up but that couldn't be the case.

Because soon he started seeking out your praise as well as wanting to impress you. Doing things extra whenever you were watching just for the chance you'd notice(and admittedly compliment him).

Malleus also couldn't understand why his heart would beat so incredibly fast when you'd smile. Whenever you'd smile it was like a ray of sunshine he could bathe in.

He absolutely loved it. He just couldn't understand why. Wh-

"Mal?" You spoke, looking up at the taller figure. You looked concerned before smiling at his startled expression.

"You were so out of it" You couldn't help but giggle. Your laugh was like heavenly music to his ears. The housewarden cleared his throat

"Sorry about that dear [Name], I was just... thinking" The raven hair finally responded. He tried to calm the way his heart raced when you called out to him.

“Are you sure you're good ? you're all red in the face, I hope you're not sick or anything” you said now a bit concerned. It was just like you to pick up on the blush that was now spreading across his face and ears like a wildfire.

Your eyes narrowed playfully, your grin widening. “So what were you thinking about then, you were so out of it you didn't even comment on my story on how cute grim was actually earlier!”

"I... I’m fine," Malleus finally managed, though his voice came out softer than he intended. Clearing his throat once again, he tried to regain some semblance of composure, though his heart pounded furiously against his chest like crazy.

He opened his mouth to answer, but his mind betrayed him. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular—just you. The way your smile lit up your entire face, the way you spoke to him like he wasn’t someone to be feared or avoided but just... Malleus. Any other student.

"Reflecting," he said at last, though the word felt hollow compared to the complete truth. "On various matters.

You didn’t seem convinced, and the way your lips curled into a knowing smirk made his pulse quicken.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Oh really” you quizzed dramatically raising an eyebrow.

"I-I assure you, [Name], I was merely lost in thought nothing more" he stammered, trying so hard to seem unbothered . But his voice faltered, betraying his calm facade.

"Lost in thought, huh?" you mused, leaning forward a bit, your gaze softening slightly at how flustered Malleus had become.

"I’m sure there’s more to it than that. You always seem so... distracted whenever I talk to you. It’s honestly really cute."

"C-Cute?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t... think I would describe myself as such."

The compliment struck him harder than he liked to admit. His face flushed an even deeper shade of red, and he hastily looked away, it was hard to try and stop the smile tugging at his lips.

It was quite the sight to see.

"Well you don't have to think so," you replied with a wink, your teasing tone shifting into something more genuine ."But “ you continued, moving out of the raven hair’s space a bit.

“I do think it suits you, Mal."

Malleus’ heart thudded loudly in his chest as your words hit him like a truck. He loved any form of praise from you but for the fae this was too much.

His mind was reeling, the words spinning in his head as they tried to make sense of the feelings coursing through him. You thought he was cute. You thought he, Malleus Draconia—was cute. It was something he had never considered before, and yet here you were, saying it so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well ..thank you child of man” The housewarden mumbled just enough for you to hear. You smiled and nodded at him.

He really couldn't understand why he felt this way about you. What made this human so special? He couldn't understand, perhaps he'd maybe end up asking Lilia about it.

“Well I should head back to my dorm before Grim manages to rip it to shreds…more than it already is” You chuckled at your own comment.

“Yes it is getting rather late into the afternoon… I suppose this is goodbye for now “ He spoke. It always pained him when you eventually had to part ways.

“Good night Mal!” You waved him goodbye before walking off Into the direction of ramshackle dorm.

“Goodnight…”

Malleus didn't understand his feelings. But he did understand one thing. He didn't want the feeling to ever go away.

MASTERLIST

[chlorinecake]

Imagine slow but rough sex with Jungwon cause he found out that you were not being yourself.

"Baby's not feeling well, hm?

"yeah, fuck everyone. But, I can fuck you up harder"

"Insecure? Baby, you got a pussy that can make any man pray"

"Cry over my cock instead, yeah?"

Fuck Now, Talk Later | Y.JW

▹ PAIRING : soft dom! bf! jungwon x subby! gf!reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUMMARY : Just Jungwon fucking your tears away with a bit of rough COMFORT SEX because you’re too pretty to cry over anything other than his cock.

▹ CONTAINS : ⚠︎ swearing, kissing, praise kink, pet names (angel, kitty, good girl), unprotected sex (cowgirl variations), mild dacryphilia, mentions of insecurities, reference to cigar use

▹ WORD COUNT : 2.2k — special tags for my fellow won-girlies @candewlsy and @theothernads ⋆.˚

Your eyebrows that were once screwed into little bows of frustration atop your face had finally popped, a stream of tears spilling over your cheeks as you ran straight to your bedroom, where you sobbed your sorrows into the sheets…

It wasn’t long before your boyfriend Jungwon realized you had got back home from hanging with your friends already, though…

Standing up from his reading nook in the living room, he went off in search for you, following the hushed sounds of your cries all the way to the bedroom.

And there you were… curled up into a tight ball of sadness as you sniffled beneath the sole comfort of your zip-down hoodie, hiding your face from him.

“Aww,” your boyfriend started gently, walking over to sit beside you on the mattress… “What’s the matter, hm?… Baby's not feeling too well?…”

You felt his hand caress the dip in your waist now as you laid down, but it only made you tense up, feeling worse for burdening him.

“N-no, Wonie… I just hate crying like this… especially in front of you…,” you managed to say, trying to give him a hint that you wanted to be alone for a few moments, but he persisted anyways.

“You never have to hide your emotions from me, love…” Jungwon encouraged, briefly breathing against your cheek before kissing the skin there, “It’s important that I see these parts of you, too, y’know?…”

You had been dating Jungwon for a little less than a year now, and one relationship goal that has always been the same for him was prioritizing your comfort.

He wanted you to be okay with sharing all types of intimacy… not just the parts that involved sex.

Naturally though, your boyfriend was never really an emotional person, and yet he strived to become better in that aspect because of you… because he knew there’d be a time where you needed that emotional comfort from him more than anything—

“Please, ____,” Jungwon’s voice sounded from behind you, “just tell me what’s wrong, baby…”

You sighed at his pleading before answering, not meeting his eyes only for him to scan your face anyways, admiring how lovely your teary eyes looked in this moment.

“I don’t know, Wonie… I guess I’ve just… I haven’t been feeling like myself, lately…”

“Ahh… so you’re telling me my pretty girl has got herself all worked up over insecurities again?”

“Well- it’s not just that… s-someone said that I’ve changed for the worse…”

It was earlier while you were hanging out with your friends…

One of the girls there, who you remembered as your former smoking buddy, had some pretty nasty things to say about you once she found out you had been trying to quit using.

“Yeah, you might’ve quit the pen, but all those lingering nerves are making you eat yourself to death, now… just look at your legs… they’ve gotten so big since the last time we spoke…”

Sighing at the memory, you sat up on the bed now, looking back at Jungwon’s stoic expression that spoke a thousand words for itself as he went on to ask:

“Are you seriously gonna let those empty words get you upset like this?…”

His hand was on your thigh, distracting you from answering at first until you decided to simply shake your head at his question, feeling the tears erupt within you all over again.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you croaked with a squeaky voice, feeling yourself hiccup a bit from sniffling so hard, “I’m so sorry for being this way…”

For being your dysfunctional, basket-case of a girlfriend, you wanted to add, but the words got caught in the anxious web of your own mind, a spider feeling as though it’d just crawled down your throat as you continued bullying yourself in your head.

Jungwon had never seen you so sad before, and the way you just leaned into him while sobbing into the crook of his neck made his heart sink and swell at the same time.

The moisture from your face peppered his shoulders as he gently caressed your back, cooing within the sullen air.

“Don’t apologize when you did nothing wrong, ____,” he demanded with a whisper, pulling away from the hug to look in your face, “you understand me?”

You nodded again, making him smile softly as he kissed away the tears trailing your left cheek, his free, sweater-gloved hand wiping the other side.

“I just wanna feel better, already… regardless of what other people think of me,” you say as the end of his sleeve kept patting at your tears.

“And you will,” Jungwon went on, tilting his head at you with a thumb running over your lower lip. “Fuck those people and their opinions, ____…” he said, kissing you on the corner of your lips but only going in for more once you hummed in approval.

But of course, the tears came back, and you’re not sure why, but they wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay, angel… let it all out,” Jungwon whispered against your lips, but you turned your head, letting your back find the mattress and covering your face.

“I … I can’t, Wonie… I hate feeling like such a crybaby over the smallest of things,” you sniffled, vision blurring with the amount of tears spilling over the edge of your lash bed now.

“Move your hands, love… I don’t like it when you hide your face from me…”

You look so gorgeous when you cry, your boyfriend wanted to add, but decided not to let his dirty thoughts thrive in this moment…

He opted to lay down beside you instead, joining your flat posture on the mattress before trailing a hand from the top of your knee and up to the point where the skirt you wore was hiked up over your hips now.

And yes, you weakly tried to swat his hands away, but he persisted, pulling your skirt back over your curves before hooking his first finger at the hem of your black, lace panties.

“You can always cry over my cock instead,” he whispered in a low voice now, his offer drawing you back to the present and out of your thoughts as the feeling of his hand inching closer to your core made your thighs tense up.

“W-Wonie~” your breath hitched, his fingers feeling cold against your warm skin as you failed to meet his lustful gaze.

“No no no, look at me… tell me how you want me to help you feel better, yea?”

With the last bit of willpower you had, you let your puffy eyes flicker up to meet his face, shuddering as you felt your panties slip lower and lower from their original position.

“I don’t really know what to say, Jungwon,” your voice came out below a whisper, your anxious thighs squeezing together as if it’d help hide the expanse of flesh from his eyes.

But his eyes weren’t looking there, anyways, being more concerned with the expression on your face than anything.

“Want me to help fuck all those tears away, kitty?... Is that what my pretty baby needs?”

And just like that, you felt it… the fiery rush in your stomach letting you know that it was only a matter of time before he had you bouncing on top of him, begging for more…

But as much as your body wanted to say yes, your mind was still making you feel insecure, especially as your panties were completely gone at this point, your hesitant body still trying to ease into his touch as he sat you in his lap.

Jungwon let his hands caress over the bow you tied around your thighs as your weight sunk into the straddle… your beautiful, soft, and perfect thighs…

Your hands found his shoulders for leverage, right as he kissed the center of your lips, humming at the way you clung to him now.

Your nose was still a bit stuffy from crying so much, so the kiss ended up being a lot sloppier than usual which only helped to turn you on even more.

“Such a good girl,” Jungwon muttered breathlessly as you suddenly broke from the contact, watching as you got to work on freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

Climbing back over him, you simply hovered over his length, kissing him one more time on the lips before sliding him into you, tensing up a bit at the sensation.

“Mmm,” you hummed, feeling his hands push your thighs down just to help speed things up a bit.

And it didn’t take long for you to start moving once he was fully inside you, those pretty feline eyes of his becoming heavy at the relief his cock found in your pussy.

Letting his back fall against the bed, Jungwon kept his hands at your waist as you continued bouncing on his cock, a red hue blushing to your cheeks now as he started playing with your boobs.

“You’re taking me so well today, baby,” your boyfriend whispered in a low voice while squeezing the flesh of your tits in his hand, “always look so pretty while bouncing on my cock…”

You whimpered slightly at the painful feeling coupled with his dirty words, clenching around his member as the pace of your hips grew faster with your need.

“W-wonie~” you began to say, holding onto his wrists as his hands stayed cupped around your breasts.

“What is it, baby?” He asked in an almost cloyingly sweet tone, taking one of his free hands and pinching your cheek to make you blush even more.

“W-want you to fuck me, Wonie… p-please,” you whine in between feeling his thumb find the inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you finally meet his eyes again.

“You gotta be more specific, kitty,” he says, catching on to the way you visibly sulk at his words, “how does my pretty girl want to be fucked?”

As frustrated as you were starting to feel with his teasing, you couldn’t help but keep bouncing in his lap, practically drooling over the way his tip felt sliding against all the best parts inside you.

“Need you to be rough with me, Wonie,” you manage to say breathlessly, eyes tearing up now at the rollercoaster of emotions, “need you so bad—”

“Shhh… I’ve got you, baby,” Jungwon cooed, moving his thumb from your mouth and swiping the moisture from your eyes, “gonna help you feel so much better…”

You felt his touch guide you against his stomach now, your face resting in the crook of his shoulder as he held you against him with his strength, thrusting himself inside you.

And you almost couldn’t believe that he was starting off so fast, gripping a handful of your hair as tiny grunts fell from his lips, your eyes pricking with moisture as he kept pounding into you.

“God, p-please… go harder,” you whined out weakly, only to moan as his grip on your hair tightened, a string of curses falling from his mouth as his hips snapped into you even faster.

“Let me see those pretty tears of yours again, baby… let me know how good I’m making you feel…”

The sound of skin against skin would be impossible for anyone outside to ignore at this point, especially with the way you kept whining for him...

“Feels so good, Wonie,” you cried out, feeling the band in your stomach tighten as your climax treaded closer and closer to spilling over the edge, “need you to make me cum so badly…”

“Already?” Your boyfriend asked with a slight chuckle to his tone, even though he knew he wasn’t gonna last very much longer himself, “my pretty girl is always so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Y-yes, yes,” your voice came out in erotic moans as your pussy throbbed with a burning need.

Only a few more seconds had passed before you were squirming on top of him, his hands having to hold you down given how much your body trembled.

“Nghh,” Jungwon’s voice followed right after, just as the feeling of his release coating your walls became obvious to you, a string of mumbled praise slipping from his mouth.

And all you could do was whimper at your boyfriend’s words, both of your hips riding out their highs as his lips found your face, kissing away the tears there as you melted into his touch.

Eventually, he let his dick slip out of the comfort of your warm hole, caressing your back as you returned a kiss to his lips, missing the closeness already…

“Feel any better?” Jungwon asked, a faint smile creeping upon his delicate features as you adored the sight of him in your own heart.

“Thanks to you, yes,” is the last thing you remembered saying in that moment, your tingly legs still straddling his lap as fell back into his embrace, grateful to have a boyfriend as perfect as him…

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Thanks to everyone who read this quick little fic! If you're interested, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more works like this !!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr @sussyjake

[i9messi]

Sweet — Ollie Bearman

You have a blind date in a coffee shop, but you sit at the wrong table and end up on a date with a guy who has a smile that lights up his whole face.

Word count — 1,2k

note —okay, so my little crush on Ollie is getting bigger now. More stories coming soon!

MASTERLIST

You were practically running on the streets. You were late for your date with a guy you actually didn’t know. And you were so worried about causing a bad first impression.

It all started when your best friend insisted you meet a friend of a friend. You had never seen him before and didn’t know anything about him, only that his name was Oliver and you apparently shared things in common.

You were in such a hurry to get there, that when you saw a guy sitting alone at a table, you thought he was your date. You started to walk in his direction, while smiling. He paid attention to you, looking at where you were.

“Oliver?”

He nodded. If you hadn’t been so distracted you would have noticed something was wrong, as the way he was looking at you with confusion.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes were brown and his brunette hair was a little messy, as if he had passed his hands several times for his hair.

“Sorry for being late— my best friend got the time mixed up and told me we had to meet later. But I spoke to her again and then she told me it was earlier. Sorry to keep you waiting, Oliver.”

There was a strange silence. You thought he was angry or pissed off but a couple of seconds later, he smiled nicely.

“No problem, really. I already ordered my coffee, I hope that didn’t bother you.”

“Oh, no worries.”

“By the way, my friends call me Ollie.”

He smiled at you and you smiled at him. Maybe it was too fast to make statements, but you could already sense that he was a kind person. There was something in his generous smile and look that invited you to want to share your time with him.

“Nice to meet you, Ollie.”

You introduced yourself, just in case he forgot your name or if your friend had not told him.

"Oh, sit, please."

Ollie got up from his seat and moved the chair you were sitting in, like a gentleman.

“Thank you, Ollie.”

While you were giving him a look, a staff member came up and you made an order. When the coffee came to you and you started sipping, you filled the silence.

“Your face sounds familiar, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

He had a pretty face and a boyish look. You swore that his face had appeared on TV, or maybe on your social media, but you couldn’t remember where.

“Maybe your friend once showed you a picture of me and that’s why my face sounds familiar, I guess.”

“That may be.”

He nodded, “In my case, you took me by surprise.”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I hope it’s a good surprise, not a bad one.”

”You’re a very good surprise, I swear.”

You took another sip of your coffee, while Ollie looked into your eyes. You spoke again, only because he seemed to hesitate to ask you something.

"What do you do for a living?"

“I work with cars.”

“Oh, are you a mechanic?”

He smiled lazily, and corrected himself.

“My job is to drive cars.”

“So you’re an Uber driver.”

Ollie tried to hold back a laugh and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Sorry. I’m an Uber driver, you're right.”

There was something suspicious but you didn't want to be too curious.

When the awkward conversation ended, he was interrupted by a call from a friend. You encouraged him to answer, even when he didn't want to bother you.

“Kimi? I'm busy right now— I'm on a date. Yes, with a girl. What surprises you? I'm on a date with a real person.”

He listened to his friend, then Ollie talked again.

“Oh, shut up. Goodbye.”

You tried so hard to not laugh, but you failed miserably.

“What? He was being annoying.”

“He was interested in our date, I think.”

“Is he the friend of my friend? The one who connected us?”

He seemed hesitant, but then he said no. “No, that's my other friend.”

Minutes later both of you talked about your lives, about things you liked and about everything you could think of. Ollie was an attentive person, someone you could talk to for hours.

It was so nice to be by his side that when you noticed the coffee shop was ready to close, you felt a little sad.

“It's time to go, I guess.”

“I could walk you home,” he offered.

“Sure? I don't want to bother you, Ollie.”

“I insist.”

You agreed, and you walked by his side. His hand brushed yours for a brief moment and both of you felt warm in your cheeks. Blushed and silly, neither Ollie or you said a thing. But to be fair, both wanted to know what It would feel to hold hands.

Your house was close to the coffee shop so when you stopped in your doorway, he stopped too.

"This was nice,” he said, his gaze looking at you. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, he seemed to not know what to do next.

So you took the next step.

“We can kiss, Ollie.”

You really wanted to finish your date with a kiss, he seemed special. He was not like the other dudes you spent your time on dates, most of them only thought with their dicks. He treated you correctly, he listened to you and he was attentive. And he was attractive, he was gorgeous. Beautiful to see.

“I was hoping you said that but I need to confess something first.”

Okay, now you were worried. What if he had a girlfriend?

“I lied.”

“You lied about what?”

“I'm not the Oliver you were looking for.”

“That makes no sense. Ollie, what are you talking about?”

He came a step close to you.

“I am not the Oliver you were having a date with. I was in the coffee shop waiting for a friend but a couple of minutes before you came, he said he couldn't come. It was Kimi, the guy who talked with me on the phone. When you came and talked with me, I froze.”

Then it all started to make sense. He had told you that it was a surprise to find you there. Ollie hadn’t expected you to show up and tell him you were late for your date, because in first place, he was not part of the date.

“You lied.”

“I lied because I didn't want to miss a chance to meet a beautiful girl like you. I apologize, honestly.”

He looked at you, with worry.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I'm not. I'm just… confused, because I really enjoyed our date.”

“I enjoyed our date too, and I really want to repeat it.”

You couldn't be angry with him, not with his puppy eyes.

“Are you going to lie next time?”

“No, I promise you. I'm not going to lie to you anymore.”

“Okay, Ollie. I'm not angry with you, I honestly think that maybe it was good to cross paths. Maybe the other Oliver was a dick.”

He smiled full of happiness, “Poor Oliver.”

“Instead I met you.”

“I could not ask for a better thing.”

You were so close, only millimeters separated you from him. He smelled so good.

“When can we meet again?”

“First kiss me, then we can schedule or date.”

And so he did, he come closer to you and his lips joined yours.

Next thing you knew was that he drove race cars.

[writingunderneathawillow]

nowhere for you to stay (bucky barnes x reader)

content warnings: angst, allusions to depression (bucky, not reader), sad bucky, mental health, lack of self-care, female reader, this is basically just me venting about the terrible ending that they gave steve (he didn’t deserve this and neither did bucky nor me)  word count: 1.5k a/n: so, i promise, i really am trying to finish my wips, but this came to me today while listening to renegade, also sorry for being m.i.a. for like three weeks but I spent easter with my family and had to recharge lol and then uni started again, so that kinda kicked my ass a little also, i watched thunderbolts* yesterday and it was great!!! (dw, this is spoiler-free)

You knocked on his door – three sharp, distinct sounds – and waited.  For a few seconds you entertained the thought that Bucky wasn’t home. That he was out and about, doing something with his life. Maybe he had picked himself up and gone to the gym, or maybe he had finally deleted the various food delivery apps and instead had gone grocery shopping. But there was a faint whirring, locked behind the old wooden door to his apartment, a sound that belonged to a light turned on. The complex in which Bucky resided was old – not as old as the man himself but certainly bordering on it. Windows creaked when the wind was strong, the lighting flickered, and pipes groaned during the coldest months.   He had moved here after returning from Wakanda and you had helped him set up his living space. You had begged and pleaded with him to rent a place closer to you, or to maybe even move in with you. But he had just shook his head and had looked at you with those heartbroken, empty eyes that seemed a little less blue and a little more grey since Steve was gone. So, you had helped carry the sparse amount of furniture and décor he had up to the fourth-floor apartment, had sorted spice containers of which you were sure that he hadn’t used them yet and had presented Bucky with a plant as a housewarming gift. He had smiled sadly and thanked you and you had known that the plant was not going to make it more than a week. Every day you called, every day he answered – for a limited time. Sometimes, the exchange was as short as thirty seconds, just enough for you to hear that he was still alive and not planning on changing that.  Once a week, on Saturdays, you took the subway to visit him, to stay with him for a few hours. You never managed to convince him to get out of the apartment with you but at least you saw him.  The last week had been different. He hadn’t answered your calls, only sent short messages (“I’m fine – can’t talk right now” or “let me call you back later”) and your heart ached every time the busy signal had echoed from your speaker. Of course, you hoped that it meant that he was actually busy, distracted, doing something.  But the faint buzz of a burning lamp in his apartment told you that he was home. No matter what, Bucky always made sure to turn off all lights and close all windows before he left his place, so he must have been ignoring the knocking.  To his credit, you were a day earlier than usual. It was Friday instead of Saturday, and you hadn’t announced yourself either, so he wasn’t expecting you. The silence, the unanswered calls had given you anxiety induced stomach pains, so you had taken the day off from work and had gotten an Uber to his place.

You knocked again and lightly cleared your throat – a chance for Bucky’s enhanced hearing to place you and for him to open the door. Still, the knob didn’t twist, the many locks he had put on additionally didn’t rattle and you could have sworn that the whirring of the lamp you had heard earlier died down. “Bucky,” you called out, “It’s me. Can you please open the door?” You waited. Seconds that felt like minutes ticked by and your hands got clammy as you shifted on your feet. “Bucky, you gave me a key. But I don’t wanna use it, so, please just let me in. Bu-,” before you could finish his name, you heard a series of noises. A pair of feet shuffling over creaky old floorboards, and what sounded like dishes being set down in the sink. Then you heard a window being ripped open – the frame squeaked terribly – and then the footsteps came closer.  One lock was unlocked, then the second one. A metallic clank sounded and then the doorknob turned.  The door opened with a squeak that made your teeth hurt.  The apartment was dark, and despite the cold breeze that the recently opened window let in, it smelled dusty and faintly like old takeout food.  “Hey.” One thing about Bucky is that he just could not lose his charm. He stood before you, eyebags darker than ever, brown curls unkempt and knotted, and his scruff on his cheeks a little longer than usual and asymmetrical – as if he had laid on one side for too long. 

Despite his appearance, he leaned against the doorframe with a trace of his characteristic smile turning up his mouth corners.  “Hi,” you replied, slightly perplexed.  “I didn’t realise it was already Saturday,” he said after a few seconds of silence and attempted to swipe his hair from his forehead until he realised that it was too unbrushed to run his fingers through it.  He awkwardly dropped his hand but gave you another smile. “It’s not,” you answered and peered past him. Before you could properly glance into his apartment, he moved into your eyeline, a determined look in his eyes.  “Oh. Then what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting again when you tried to steal another glimpse into his living space. You took a few seconds before you replied during which you struggled not to be offended by his question.  “You never called me back,” you explained then, and locked eyes with him. Heat rose on his face as you bluntly called him out and his hands again found their way into his hair, and again, he had to drop them back to his sides as he couldn’t nervously run them through.  “Yeah, no, I meant to, but I… I was busy,” he stammered, blocking your third attempt to look past him.  “Okay,” you murmured slowly, “Can you… would you mind letting me in?” Bucky chewed on his lip for a few seconds, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to find a way to let you down gently. “Uh, now’s not a good time.”

Your heart sank even further as you tried to come up with reasonings with his behaviour. “Are you-,” you began, and stared at your feet instead of meeting his eyes, “Is someone in there with you?” His eyes went round with surprise before he composed himself.  “What? No, no, I’m… I’m alone in here, but it’s just not, uh, a good time, like I said.” A little bit of the tightness in your chest loosened as he genuinely looked shocked at your implication. But you still couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you in. “Are you leaving? Like, are you going somewhere?” You inquired then, trying to find a reason that would satisfy you. Bucky stayed quiet before he shook his head.  “No, nothing like that. Listen, doll, I just… I haven’t really prepared for visitors, or anything like that, so it’d be great if… um –,“ before he finished speaking, you could tell that he was having a hard time sending you back home. He knew how long the ride here was and that you usually worked on Fridays. “it’s just not a good time,” he concluded.

There was a faint line, so thin that it was barely visible, that you were threatening to cross right now. A line between what Bucky allowed you to see on the Saturdays when you visited him, and the rest of his life.  “Just let me in,” you whispered. “Let me… help you.” The conflict in his eyes played out like a storm. Vulnerability and stubbornness raged against each other, as he seemingly weighed his options: allowing you in or pushing you away. Both seemed to frighten him as you heard how his metal arm whirred while he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Alright,” he mumbled and slowly stepped back. His apartment was in a terrible state. For someone who had very little furnishings, a tiny amount of clothes and basically no personal belongings it should have been easy to basically produce a clinically clean space. Instead, you saw instant food packaging, empty beer cans and ripped paper shreds sprawled across his couch table. You recognised the paper as an article about Steve – honouring his legacy and paying tribute to his sacrifice. You had read the same one a few days ago and had cried until your head hurt. The sofa cushions were crumbled up and uneven. A thin blanket laid on the floor as if it had fallen off or been pushed off in a hurry. He must have slept there instead of in his bed.  The kitchen door was half closed, and through the gap you saw dishes towering dangerously, a towel haphazardly slung over them in an attempt to hide them. You turned to face Bucky, who refused to meet your eye. Instead, he clenched his jaw so tight that it must have hurt and stared out the opened window. “Bucky,” you whispered.  “Like I said, I didn’t know you were coming.” His tone was defensive and sharp, but his eyes glistened as the shame burned in him. “Bucky, look at me,” you pleaded and took a few steps towards him. “This place is a mess,” he croaked, his voice heavy with unshed tears, “There’s nowhere for you to stay.” “But I’ll stay anyway,” you murmured and rested your hand on his cheek. “I’ll stay and help you.”

[bruisedboys]

reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻

!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe

peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!

Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.

He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”

As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.

“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”

Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.

The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.

“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”

You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.

“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”

You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.

Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.

“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.

Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”

You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”

Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”

He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.

“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.

Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.

“Okay, you can rinse now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”

You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.

When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”

You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[hsunrry]

college teacher // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on one of this requests by @madstyles3204🩵

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,7k

tropes: teacher!harry x student!reader

warnings: smut18+, age gap, inappropriate relationship, praise, unprotected sex, cumshot

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you were so beautiful to him, it was getting to the point that every time he was jerking off, he was imagining it was you who was sucking him. mainly two problems were on the way: he was 10 years older and he was your teacher. you were interested as well, but it was just not right. despite all of that, you were sitting in the assembly hall, not really focused on his lecture. he looked so good, as always. you looked at his crotch, imagining how big he was and how good would it feel if he-

“y/n.” he was suddenly standing right in front of you, snapping you back to reality. “where are you right now?”

“i’m sorry.” you looked up at him. he was looking down at you, a bit disappointed.

“care to explain? i’m not mad, i just want to know what’s on your mind.” his soft smile and his covered in rings fingers right in front of you weren’t helping at all.

“nothing, i just got distracted.” you blushed slightly, fidgeting with your fingers under your table. he raised his eyebrow.

“distracted by what?” he tilted his head a little to the side as he looked down at you intently. you could feel other students, well, at least the ones who were paying attention earlier, looking at both of you talking.

“just distracted, nothing specific, i’m sorry.” you shrugged slightly. he didn’t break the eye contact, noticing how flustered you looked and how some of the other students were watching. he leaned closer to you, almost whispering now.

“you sure it’s nothing specific?” you could smell his perfume at this distance and you almost fainted at the closure. you nodded.

“yes, nothing specific, it won’t happen again, i promise.” you said quietly. he enjoyed seeing you like this for some reason.

“you promise? you promise you’ll be paying attention from now on?” he grinned, his voice low and husky.

“yes, sir.” you answered, making him smile wider when you called him that. he slowly backed away, on normal distance again.

“so, back to what i was saying…” he looked at the other students in the assembly hall, going back to his presentation. you tried to focus on his classes and not let your dirty thoughts affect you again. he was looking at you from time to time while explaining everything, making sure you were paying attention. after some time, his lecture came to an end. once he finished, everyone started packing up their stuff. “y/n, can i speak to you for second?” you looked up at him and nodded, waiting for everyone else to leave. “come with me, would you?”

“of course.” you said, following him to his office. he opened the door for you, letting you in first. he gestured you to sit down on one of the armchairs. he sat down as well, crossing one leg over the other and crossing his arms over his chest.

“do you know why i wanted to talk to you?” he asked, small smile plastered on his face.

“because i wasn’t paying attention?” you fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he paused for a moment, watching your fingers playing with it. his eyes were fixed on them, following every movement, before bringing his eyes back to your face.

“that and because i saw you looking at me with a look i could read very clearly.” his voice a little deeper than before.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked a little nervous. he chuckled softly, amused by the fact that you’re trying to pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. he leaned forward, his elbows resting above his knees.

“y/n, don’t play stupid with me. you know what i’m talking about.” you swallowed quietly. was it really happening right now? he smirked, watching your nervous reaction.

“do you want to hear what i read from that look of yours?” he could almost hear your heartbeat quickening. you only nodded. he looked at you very intensely for a moment. “i saw lust, y/n.” you bite inside of your cheek at his words, not really knowing how to respond. you got caught red handed and you didn’t know how to explain yourself. he smirked slightly when you bite inside of your cheek, not missing a single movement of yours. you tried so hard to keep it all together. “i’m not a fool. i know when i’m being desired.”

“i’m sorry.” you said quietly.

“for what, hm? for wanting me?” he asked, keeping eye contact with you. you hide your face into your hands.

“oh my god.” you mumbled flustered. the fact you were being so shy now was both amusing and exciting for him. he watched you hiding your face for a few seconds, then he spoke.

“you look so cute. all flustered for me, that’s a view.” he grinned.

“what?” you looked at him from your hands. he chuckled, seeing the look you gave him.

“you want to know a secret?” another nod from you. he smiled, happy you were interested. he leaned even closer to you, looking into your eyes for the whole time. “i want you too.”

“but i thought-“ you licked your lips slightly, your mouth going a little dry. “but you’re my teacher?”

“i’m aware.” he traced your tongue with his eyes before looking into your eyes again. “and it’s so wrong.” you swallowed at his words. his eyes watching your every little movement. he cleared his throat. “it’s wrong and we both can get into trouble. but do i care?”

“i don’t.” you whispered.

“that’s what i like to hear…” he stood up, his hands on the both armrests of the armchair you were sitting on. he leaned down slightly and his gaze went to your lips. “what if we lock the door?”

“please.”

“good girl.” he grinned, his voice a bit raspier than earlier. he walked to the door, locking them from inside. he walked back, sitting on the armchair he was previously sitting on, patting his thigh. “now be good for me and sit on my lap.” his voice leaving nothing to complain about. you quickly made your way to him, sitting astride his lap. your dress riding up a little. his one hand going to rest on your hip, when the other went on your cheek, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. “there you go…” he smiled. “you look so good like this, straddling my lap.”

“i might look even better with your dick inside me.” you said bluntly. his eyes widened slightly, his breath getting shaky from your words. the hand on your hip tightening slightly. your faces millimetres from each other. “i want you.” you whispered against his lips. he tried so hard to keep it together. you moved on his lap, feeling how hard he was beneath you. loud gasp escaped his lips when you pressed yours to his. he froze for a moment, but quickly composed himself, kissing you back. you couldn’t believe that something like this was actually happening, but you both didn’t complain. your hands went quickly down to his pants, unbuttoning them. his lips started leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, shoulder and collarbones. he lifted his hips, so you managed to slid his pants down along with his boxers just enough to leave him exposed. he grabbed your hips roughly, lifting you up and placing you on his desk.

“you have no idea how many times i imagined this.” he hooked his fingers under the hem of your panties, pulling them off and tossing somewhere on the floor. he stood between your legs, realisation of what was about to happen finally sunk in. “every day i come to his office. i imagine you on this desk, just like that.” he panted into your neck.

“then take me.” he growled at your words, pushing you down slightly, so you were leaning on your elbows. he ran his hands up your thighs, under the skirt of your dress.

“oh i’m gonna take you just right.” he grabbed his dick, tracing his tip between your folds before pushing inside. your head snapping back from pleasure immediately. he groaned at the feeling of finally being inside you. his hands on your hips when he started moving slowly, pushing deeper with every thrust. his chest now hovering over yours. “look at you, taking me so well, so raw.” you moaned at his words. his lips kissing your neck and his hips moving faster with every second. “i wanted this for so long. you feel even better than i imagined.”

“i was imagining you inside me today, that’s why i was distracted.” you admitted, moaning louder when he started rubbing your clit.

“and here i thought my lecture was just boring.” he chuckled breathlessly, groaning when you started clenching around him. “you’re close, aren’t you?” you nodded, his movements faster. “naughty girl, thinking about stuff like that durning my teaching.” he panted. “you have no idea what you do to me, darling.”

“i’m gonna come.” you gasped. his movements getting harder and more desperate.

“come for me. you’re such a good girl, taking me so well. came to my office and look at us now, this is wrong.” his words was your last straw. your breath hitched in your throat, your inner walls squeezing him tight and loud moan escaping your lips when you climaxed. he kissed your lips hard, fucking you through your orgasm slowly. he pulled out, stroking himself and finishing on your thigh. you were both breathing heavy. “well, i didn’t plan on this happening at all today, but i’m not gonna lie, it’s been on my mind a lot.” you both chuckled. he grabbed few tissues, cleaning your thigh from his release. he kissed your forehead before tucking himself back to his boxers. “i suppose you’ll be visiting me in my office more often now?” he smiled, helping you put your panties back on.

“definitely.” you smiled, looking up at him. he sat on the armchair, pulling you onto his lap, kissing you softly and thinking about how he just broke the biggest rule of his profession.

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 15: "What are you wearing? "It's laundry day!"

A/N: Cue “Without Me” by Eminem cause GUESS WHO’S BACK!!! Not only me, but the guy! I’ve been thinking about him specifically for a lot of these lol i’m down bad. also i feel like i should once again stress that this isn't based on titans, i just like brenton thwaites. enjoy!

Ship: Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

Summary: All of Dick’s clothes were disgusting and in need of a wash, so he chose quite the interesting outfit

You came home from work and looked around what you could see of the apartment to see if you could spot your boyfriend before you started calling his name. 

“Dick? Are you here??” You asked loudly, simultaneously announcing yourself and hopefully allowing yourself to be heard from wherever he might be. 

When he didn’t answer back, you thought about where he possibly was before turning back out of the front door. You vaguely remembered him saying something about doing some chores today while you were at work, and based on some basic deduction from that, you thought he might be down in the laundry room. 

When you got down there, Dick was bent over the washing machine, clad in old pajama pants and…something that looked vaguely familiar from what you could see. It was hard to tell, since most of his upper half was currently inside the machine itself. 

“What’re you wearing?” You asked, holding back giggles as you noticed his attire. The pajama pants he was wearing had quite a few holes in the red plaid material and you held back on commenting on it. For now. 

“It’s laundry day!” Dick yelled as he stood up, revealing to you that he also took the liberty of borrowing one of your shirts. It just barely fit him, sticking to his muscles and only covering him halfway down his stomach. It looked more like a crop top than anything else, which isn’t what it was when you wore it at all. 

“Laundry day means steal clothes from your partner and wear threads of fabric that can barely be called pants?” You teased, stepping closer to him and gently tugged at the waistband of the pajama pants he was wearing, “If you wanted to borrow something from me, you could’ve just asked. I could’ve told you what might actually fit.” 

“This does fit!” He argued, gesturing to the shirt that clung to him for dear life.

“This shirt is begging for mercy. I think I should put it out of its misery” You laughed, pulling it up over his head and off of him, “Plus, I think I like this view better.” You blushed lightly now that he was standing there shirtless. 

“Oh, really? If you wanted to strip me, all you had to do was ask.” He teased you, repeating your words from moments earlier. 

“Hilarious, but I’m not going to do that in the laundry room where anyone could walk in and see you. I’ll wait till you’re done washing your stinky clothes.” You rolled your eyes at him, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on his cheek, “I’ll meet you upstairs?” 

“With an offer like that? How could I refuse?” Dick sounded sarcastic but, with him, a lot of things usually did. “You could stay down here with me if you want, though. Tell me about your day.” He suggested as he turned back toward the washing machine.

“…What? I’m sorry.” You chuckled as you realized you’d been staring at his chest and not listening to a single word he’d been saying. “I-I didn’t hear what you said.” 

“I said that you could stay and tell me about the day you’ve had, but I don’t think you’re gonna be doing much talking if I keep you down here. You’re a little…distracted,” You couldn’t see his face as he spoke, but he sounded incredibly smug. You could practically hear the smirk on his face. “So I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?” 

You nodded before you realized he couldn’t see you and spoke aloud, “Right, okay. I’ll see you upstairs.” You mumbled with a dark red glow to your cheeks, turning out of the laundry room clutching your reacquired shirt and a promise. 

[strayy-starss]

Needy sam smut? Like afab farmer leaves for a while, and Sam is so lovesick when she comes back

✧A/N: Of course!! I’ve always seen Sam as more of a needy type but never had the thought to put it down on paper (or, computer, I guess). For more Sam content, definitely check out @deepestnightcolor! Their writing style is absolutely fabulous, and they’re one of my biggest tumblr inspirations! Also, I’m really sorry that it took me so long to answer this, I went on vacation for a little while and the parasites took away my motivation.

✧Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader

✧WC: 1.5k

✧Warnings: hand job, pierced cock (yes, it’s pierced. bite me), face riding, afab!Receiving oral.

✧NSFW BELOW THE CUT✧ ⬇

☆I Missed You☆

You’d been gone for two weeks, out to visit your parents. You’d entrusted the farm with Sam, who was eager to help you feed your animals and water your crops. Before you had to leave, you scribbled down a list of chores that you needed Sam to do when you were gone, and you’d been checking in periodically over text to see how he was doing. He always responded with a peppy answer, but his face did not mirror that peppiness. Sam was in a state of despair, to say the least. He didn’t think he’d ever missed anyone more than he missed you, even just in the span of two weeks. 

As you were out and about, hanging out with your parents on your last day, you heard a ping from your phone, and Sam’s name was illuminated on the screen. You smiled, happy to see a text from your husband. However, when you checked it, you were met with a full paragraph of how much he missed you. It was full of many “I love yous,” and “I miss yous” and “the farm isn’t the same without you here.” You smiled gently at the text, thinking it was cute that Sam missed you this much. On the other side of the screen, however, Sam was mentally suffering. He just couldn’t take his mind off of you, staring at the screen like it was all he had left of you. 

You’d texted back a brief message, telling him that you loved him and missed him too, and would be back later today. Sam whined at the message, deciding to distract himself by doing extra farm tasks. He worked away, trying to keep his thoughts of you away to little avail. He’d masturbated the other day to a picture of you, but that wasn’t enough anymore. He decided to hold off until you got home, occupying himself with strumming mindlessly at his guitar after working around the house. 

***

Three hours later, you stepped off of the bus you’d taken from your parents place and stepped back into Pelican town, breathing in the fresh air and smiling. You began your trek down the dirt path with some pep in your step. You were ecstatic that you’d get to see Sam again after your trip, and you knew he felt the same way based on his text from earlier. You headed up the porch steps, opening the door with your keys and stepping inside, dropping your bag and closing the door again. As soon as Sam heard the door open and close, he set down his guitar and sprinted to the entrance, beaming as soon as he saw you. You smiled and laughed as he tackled you in a hug, happy “missed yous” and “love yous” spilling from his lips mindlessly. 

“I missed you, too, babe,” you said through a laugh, grabbing his chin with your fingers and pulling him in for a kiss. You intended to make it a quick peck, you really did, but Sam had a different idea. As soon as your lips touched his, his hands started to trail up and down your back and into your hair, his lips working against yours fervently. You pulled back, a slightly surprised look in your eyes.

“S-sorry, sorry,” Sam stammered out, his head dropping onto your chest to hide the mixture of arousal and embarrassment on his face. “I just missed you so much.”

“It’s okay,” you said, beginning to realize why he was acting like this. You shifted a little to wrap your arms around him, and as you did, you felt a familiar bump against your leg. Sam groaned, his voice muffled by your chest. 

“Oh,” was all you could think to whisper. Sam looked up at you with a flushed, embarrassed face. You decided to make light of the situation, saying with a soft smile, “Need some help there, baby?”

“Please,” he whispered. You released him, grabbing his hand instead and leading the both of you to your shared bedroom. As soon as you got there, Sam started to undress without any command from you, his throbbing cock springing out of his boxers as he feverishly pulled them off, kicking both his boxers and his pants away. You blushed at his hurry, not realizing the extent of how much he needed you right now. You followed suit, taking off your clothes, save for your panties, and climbed into the bed with Sam.

“Now, baby,” you said, your tone low as you tilted Sam’s chin up to look at you. “What do you want me to do?”

“Anything. Anywhere,” Sam panted, his words rushed and dripping with need. “Just please touch me.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his feverish voice, but you didn't question it. After all, Sammy needed your help. You dipped your head down slightly and kissed Sam, your lips gentle against his. Sam wasn't in the mood for gentle, though. He needed it rough, and he needed it now. He grabbed your face in his hands and jammed his tongue into your mouth, moaning into the kiss with a desire you didn't know was possible. As the two of you made out, your hand drifted down to Sam’s cock, your fingers gently and teasingly trailing over his length and toying with the piercing on the tip. Sam released another shaky moan against your mouth, his hips bucking into your hand. 

You got the memo and wrapped your hand around his base and started to slowly pump up and down with one hand, the other holding you up as you continued to kiss Sam passionately. Sam let out a whimper, breaking away from the kiss and saying in a breathy voice, “Mmfuck. H-harder.” You complied, pumping your hand up and down his cock harder as you leaned in again to kiss the nape of his neck. 

Sam released numerous moans and cries, one hand threading into your hair and the other gripping your shoulder as you jerked him off. He reached his climax quickly, his hips bucking into your hand as he came with a final thrust of your hand and launching ropes of cum along his stomach. You helped him ride out his orgasm, murmuring words of praise against his neck as he came down from his high.

“Fuck. I needed that,” Sam says, looking at you with a loopy smile and a flushed face. 

“I could tell,” You said, kissing him on his forehead. “Are you done?”

“Well, I didn’t say that…” Sam said, his neediness coming back in waves. Now that you were here, he wasn’t going to let you go that easily. 

“Mm. Well, what else would you like to do? Today’s all about you, baby,” You said lovingly, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it.

“Can you ride my face?” Sam blurts out.

You blush a little at the request, your eyes widening slightly. But who were you to say no to your Sammy? You smiled at him before saying, “Sure, babe. You know the signal?”

Sam’s eyes were already locked on your panties, nodding absently, though you weren’t sure he'd heard a word you said. Sam laid down, pointing at his face with a grin. You rolled your eyes playfully, dragging your panties down your legs before situating yourself over his face. Sam’s eyes glued to your pussy, his arms already gripping your thighs.

“Ready?” You asked, hovering nervously over his face. Sam nodded feverishly, the look of need returning to his eyes as he tugged you down to his face. You gasped as your folds made contact with his mouth, a shiver running up your spine. 

Sam wasted no time, his mouth already latched onto your clit and sucking on it mercilessly. You moaned loudly, your hips rolling against his face. You threaded your hand into his hair and pulled, causing him to moan against your clit. The vibrations added a whole new level of pleasure, and you released a string of moans and curses as your hips bucked into his face, desperate for more friction. Sam's grip on your thighs tightened as he speared his tongue into your entrance, the familiar heat pooling in your stomach. 

“F-fuck, gonna come,” You stammered out as Sam returned his attention to your clit, sucking on it harder than before. With a final, loud moan, you came on his face, panting heavily. Sam hummed and licked every last drop from your dripping sex, tapping your thigh twice when he was done. You lifted yourself off of his face and collapsed on the bed next to him, smiling lazily at him. He returned your smile, his mouth coated in your fluids. 

After taking a minute to catch your breath, your eyes drifted away from his face and down to his cock, which was rock hard again. You looked back at Sam with a mischievous smirk, and he mirrored your expression. Neither of you had confirmed it, but you had a feeling that it would be a long night. 

[hainge]

Fifth Bullet: Where the Fire Left Ashes

cowboy!kaiser x fem!reader pt. 5 (wc 3.6k) from Silver bullets and stolen hearts part IV part VI warnings: MDNI!!!! swearing, violence, gun usage, mature language, mention of death/blood

“Pfft-” Shidou clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders jerking with the effort not to laugh.

“You can laugh. I don’t give a damn,” Kaiser muttered, puffing on his cigar and glancing out the window like he wasn’t hoping for a distraction.

Shidou lost it. “P-PHAHAHAHAHAH! You got all sour and moody over that? That? You sittin’ here lookin’ like a kicked dog ‘cause of some sentimental shit?”

Kaiser’s jaw twitched. He exhaled smoke slow, like it’d calm him. It didn’t. He shot Shidou a glare, then gave him a firm shove off the bed.

Shidou let out a wheeze as he hit the floor with a thud. “Aaah, Mihya, you amuse me,” he said from the rug, grinning like a damn fox. “Makes me feel all poky inside.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Shidou sat up, rubbing his back, eyes glinting. “By the by, mind explainin’ why your calendar’s sittin’ on August of 1885? It’s May, dumbass. It’s actually starting to piss me off”

Kaiser didn’t even look. “Because I was gone for nine months, you nosy ant. Try keepin’ up.”

When he finally glanced Shidou’s way, the bastard wasn’t on the floor anymore. He was standing near the dresser, poking at the neat little pile of art supplies Kaiser had laid out earlier.

“Oooh, what’s this? For lil’ ol’ me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t touch it,” Kaiser warned, voice low.

“These pens,” Shidou said, lifting the box with a twinkle in his eye. “I knew a fella who had these exact ones. Real pedo. Found him facedown dead in a ditch, pens shoved straight up his ass”

“Stop,” Kaiser growled, and snatched the box out of his hands with a sharp motion. “Don’t fuckin’ touch it.”

Shidou threw his hands up in mock surrender, that grin never leaving his face. “Whoa there, sweetheart. I ain’t mean no harm.”

He wandered casually around the room, inspecting the walls like he lived there. “So…this is for her?”

Kaiser didn’t answer. He sat back down, propped his elbow on his knee, and took another drag from his cigar.

“When you plannin’ on givin’ it to her?”

“Hopefully never,” he muttered under his breath.

Shidou let out a snort that turned into a strange wheezing giggle. “What kinda laugh was that?” Kaiser shot him a disgusted look. “You sure you’re not possessed?”

“I might be,” Shidou shrugged, crossing his arms with dramatic flair. “Possessed with secondhand embarrassment, considerin’ how shit you are at apologizin’. Lord, it’s painful watchin’ you try.”

Kaiser narrowed his eyes. “It’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’. You hand over flowers like you’re surrenderin’ at war and mutter some half-dead ‘I’m sorry’ like it’s gonna erase the whole mess. Brother, she’s got more reason to shoot you than to hug you.”

Kaiser looked away. “I know.”

“You want her back?”

There was a long pause. The only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft crackle of the cigar.

“…I want her to be okay,” Kaiser said finally. “That’s all.”

Shidou tilted his head. “That ain’t all. You love her. Which means you’re gonna have to grow a damn spine and say what matters.”

Kaiser ran a hand through his hair. “You make it sound easy.”

“‘Cause for once it is, dumbass. Just tell her you’re sorry like a man. No riddles, no dramatics. Just plain words. You’re only makin’ it harder the longer you wait.”

Kaiser didn’t answer. He just stared at the pencils in the box like they might give him courage.

“Can I give it to her?” Shidou asked with a wink.

“Touch it again and I’ll break your wrist.”

Shidou laughed. “There’s my boy.” You sat at the table, eyes fixed on the card as if it might shift or speak if you stared long enough. It had been sitting there for nearly an hour now, untouched except for the crease your thumb had left when you placed it down.

The quiet was broken by the soft jingle of keys at the front door. A moment later, your father stepped inside, boots dusted from the road, his hat in one hand.

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Hi…” you replied, voice low and unfocused.

He walked over to you, eyes filled with the kind of softness only a father could carry. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, warm and steady.

“How’s it going? You feelin’ any better?”

“Huh? Oh…yeah, better,” you said quickly, eyes flicking away from the card. “Better, I guess.”

He gave a small nod, not quite convinced, and turned to head toward the bathroom, talking over his shoulder about the rough ride home and the broken wheel on the wagon. He got a few steps before he stopped, voice dipping just enough to catch your attention.

“You know, Kaiser told me it was just an argument. Said it got a little heated.” His eyes scanned the floor. “Didn’t expect to come home to a broken vase.”

Your stomach twisted. “Ah- I forgot to clean it. Sorry, I…”

You trailed off as he sighed and crouched beside the shattered pieces still resting in the corner.

“I couldn’t think straight,” you admitted, guilt curling in your voice.

“It’s alright, dear. Everything’s alright,” he said gently, gathering the larger shards with care. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”

When he stood again, he glanced at the table and his eyes landed on the card.

“This from me?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Yes. It’s for you.”

“From who?”

“I don’t know…it didn’t say.”

He hummed low in his throat, thoughtful, and took the card into his weathered hands. His eyes scanned the front, but he didn’t open it. Instead, he slid it into his coat pocket.

“I’ll open it later,” he said, voice unreadable.

That made your head tilt slightly without meaning to. There was a shift in the air, subtle, but not unnoticed. Like something unspoken had just taken up space between you.

He didn’t explain. He simply gave you a soft pat on the shoulder and walked into the next room, leaving behind only the echo of that strange, deliberate pause. "…Without any hint of escape…without any hint of escape…" you murmured, barely aware you were speaking aloud. Your gaze lingered on the closed door your father had disappeared behind, but you said nothing. You just thought. And thought. Something in you stirred uneasily, like a clock ticking too fast. You didn’t know what, or when, but you felt it, soon, something would happen. Something that would finally give you a hint. A clue to whatever message that card held, and who had sent it.

"GO, GO, GO, GO, GO-" BANG "HEADSHOOOOOT!" Shidou’s voice cut through the woods like a whipcrack of chaos.

Kaiser exhaled and lowered his rifle. The rabbit lay still, just a few meters away.

"Could’ve gone a little higher," Isagi muttered, adjusting his aim as he studied the next cluster of bushes.

"Like you could shoot a damned thing if your life depended on it, you empty-skulled fool," Kaiser snapped, tossing the rifle carelessly onto the patchy grass. He leaned back against his pale-coated horse and lit a cigar, the match flaring briefly against the afternoon sun.

Isagi rolled his eyes and raised his gun again, more focused on the movement in the brush than on whatever insult Kaiser had thrown his way.

"That one’s mine," Shidou grinned, tongue slipping out of his mouth as he pointed toward the rabbit. "That’ll be my dinner tonight. Hope it ain’t riddled with bone."

Ness, off to the side, stayed quiet, his fingers moving deftly over a pair of disassembled revolvers. He glanced at the sky like it might tell him something.

"What’s our next stop?" Ness asked finally, not looking up.

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. He took a long draw from the cigar, then breathed the smoke into the air like he was tired of everything around him. His voice came low and steady.

"You three go wherever the hell you feel like. I’m headin’ to her place."

Shidou gave a sharp whistle, grinning wide. "Well, I’ll be damned. The Emperor’s finally makin’ a move. You be sure to use some protection, now-"

BANG

Isagi fired again, taking down another small creature without so much as flinching.

Kaiser flicked ash off the cigar, ignoring Shidou’s crude comment, and pulled himself up onto his white horse.

The other three men watched as he settled in the saddle.

"Good luck," Ness offered, his voice dry, but not unkind.

Kaiser rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, then tugged the reins and set off down the trail without another word.

Behind him, Shidou laughed to himself. "Bet he forgot how to apologize properly."

Isagi didn’t even look over. "Bet he never knew how in the first place."

"How much we bettin’?" "Twenty dollars," isagi replied "Deal," Shidou smirked as they watched Kaiser ride off toward town.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the dry dirt road as Kaiser rode his white horse through the narrow path back toward her home. The wind tugged at his coat and ruffled his already-messy hair, but his hands stayed tight on the reins. His lips moved quietly, breath shallow, voice barely audible over the rhythm of hooves on packed soil.

"I can do this…no, I can’t…no, shut the hell up, you’re doin’ it…" He exhaled hard and looked down at the small box tied with a velvet ribbon in his saddlebag, now repacked and neater than when he bought it.

"Just say the damned words…mean it for once…" He slid off the horse as he reached the porch, dusted off his coat, and held the box in one hand. His knuckles were white around it. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the door like it was a firing squad.

Then he knocked.

From inside, you were leaned against the kitchen counter, chewing lazily on a biscuit you had scrounged up, still caught somewhere between aimless thought and bitterness. Then came the knock. Sharp. Intentional. Not impatient, but certainly not casual either.

"Now what in the world…? Better be someone with a damn good reason," you muttered to yourself as you wiped your hands and made your way to the front.

You should have asked who it was.You should have waited.But you didn’t.

You opened the door, and there he stood.

Not a smirk in sight. No swagger. Hair a tousled mess like he hadn’t touched a brush in hours, though his coat was elegant, expensive as always, like he’d made a rushed effort to appear respectable.

"what the hell are you doin’ here?" your voice cracked somewhere between disbelief and rising fury. "I told you not to come near me. Not again. I told you to never speak to me"

"Y/N…" he said, almost like a plea.

"Leave, Michael. I swear, you stay one more second and you’ll make it worse. Dad!" your voice rose as you turned back into the house.

"Wait," he said quickly, stepping forward, though not crossing the threshold. "Please, just…listen for a second. I’m not here to start anything. I’m just..."

You stopped, but your eyes burned.

Kaiser swallowed and looked down for a second, the hand holding the box tightening ever so slightly.

"I am not good at this," he admitted, voice low and steady, but vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before. "Hell, I’ve never been good at it. Never knew the right words, and when I did, they always came too damn late. You were right to be mad. I was wrong, and I was careless. I said things I shouldn’t have. Did things worse."

He finally looked at you, really looked at you.

"I don’t blame you for hating me, not after what happened. I hate myself plenty for it. And I ain’t askin’ you to forgive me. Not now. Maybe not ever. I just needed you to know…I’m sorry. Sincerely. I don’t expect that to fix what I broke, but it’s the only honest thing I got left to give."

He slowly held the box out to you.

"This…isn’t a bribe. It ain’t a trick. It’s just something I picked up, thinking maybe you’d like it. That’s all."

You stared at it, not moving at first. The box was beautiful, the ribbon tied too neatly for someone like him. Suspicion warred with something softer in your chest, and your brows furrowed.

You finally reached out and took it. The moment your fingers touched the box, your arms dipped downward.

"For the love of---what the hell is in this? Rocks?" you muttered.

Kaiser gave a faint chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching despite the heaviness in the air.

"Quality ain’t light, sweetheart," he murmured, then immediately regretted the familiar term and looked away. "Sorry. Habit."

You didn’t reply.

The weight of the box in your hands was nothing compared to the silence hanging between you both. You looked away, completely at a loss for words. Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came. There was nothing for you to apologize for.

"I…will get going. See you," he said, almost under his breath, before turning around.

"Bye…" you murmured, so quiet it barely reached the air behind him.

That wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you’d seen at the bar just a few days ago. There was no trace of that smug confidence, no heavy swagger. Just a tall, tired man with something you hadn’t seen in a long time, remorse. But beyond that, behind the eyes, behind the tension in his shoulders, you still saw the little boy you used to know. You didn’t want to think about that right now.

You turned back into the house, closed the door with a soft click, and looked down at the box still heavy in your arms.

"To my dearest Y/N," you read aloud from the small card tied to the ribbon. Your fingers brushed it once before tucking it against the lid.

Without letting your father hear the stairs creak beneath you, you made your way up to your room, step by quiet step. Once inside, you placed the box gently on your table, hands still unsure, then slowly pulled the ribbon loose.

You didn’t read the card first.

Instead, you lifted the lid and froze.

Shock hit you first.

Inside was a full set of art supplies. Not just a few scattered items, but a careful, curated collection. The canvas you had been saving up to buy today. Brushes, new ones, still bound in paper that matched the exact size and shape of the ones you needed most. A thick leather-bound sketchbooks that practically begged to be filled. Then your breath caught again.

A pair of earrings nestled in a small velvet pouch. Gold. Not plated. Real. Elegant, yet small enough to wear without drawing attention. You blinked.

Your gaze swept lower.

"Are you joking…?" you whispered as your fingers touched a pristine, untouched tin of Faber-Castell pencils. The real kind. Imported. The kind artists dreamed about but never got to hold in their hands.

And there, folded neatly at the bottom, was a single ribbon. Soft, sky-blue, with a delicate floral edge. You ran your fingers along it without thinking, unable to stop. The texture was smooth, almost like silk. So pointless and pretty. You couldn’t look away from it.

Your mouth had gone dry, but still you felt your focus pull in tighter and tighter. The longer you looked at everything, the harder it became to breathe evenly.

This was too much.

Far too much.

And somehow, exactly right. You finally looked over at the card, fingers hesitating only for a second before you opened it. The paper felt thick between your hands. And his handwriting, surprisingly, was beautiful. Elegant, almost aristocratic. A part of him you’d never seen before, like a secret he hadn’t meant to share.

To my dearest Y/n,

I don’t know if you’ll ever want to read this, not after the way things ended between us today. Maybe you’ll tear it up. Maybe you’ll let it sit unread in a drawer somewhere until the ink fades and the corners yellow. But if there’s even the smallest chance that you’ll read it, then I have to write it, if only to stop myself from going mad.

It was stupid, all of it. The arguing, the way I snapped at you. I don’t even remember what lit the fuse, just the way the fire took hold and burned straight through us like dry brush in summer heat. You looked at me different after. Like you were done. Like you’d seen some part of me you didn’t recognize anymore.

And I hated that more than anything.

I’ve been carrying something heavy for a long time now, something I never dared lay down between us. I kept it hidden in my chest like a loaded gun, pointed inward. I figured if I never named it, it couldn’t ruin what we had. But maybe that was foolish. Maybe not saying it out loud is what ruined us instead.

Y/n, I think I’ve loved you since we were kids, long before either of us knew what love meant. You, with your grass-stained skirts and scraped-up elbows, telling me I was being reckless again. You, who always knew when to call me out, when to pull me back. You were the only one who ever looked at me like I wasn’t just wild trouble. You saw something good, even when I couldn’t.

Do you remember the time we raced down by the river, when the water was high and the wind near tore the hat off my head? You laughed so hard you could barely breathe, and I thought right then, God help me, I’d give anything to be the reason she laughs like that forever. I never said it. Never had the guts. And now I wonder if maybe I waited too long.

You were always meant for more than this dust town and the mess of boys who don’t know how to hold onto what matters. I was afraid of that. Afraid you’d outgrow me, leave me behind like boot prints in the dirt. So I kept my mouth shut and let the years pile up, thinking maybe someday I’d be enough.

But today proved I’m not. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to know the truth before the silence between us sets in too deep. If this is the last thing I ever get to say to you, then let it be this:

I loved you before I even knew I was capable of it. I love you still, even now, with my pride cracked.

And if you never speak to me again, I’ll understand. But I’ll carry you with me, always, tucked into the spaces between all the things I never had the courage to say.

Yours, Michael Kaiser

You didn’t move. Not at first. You just sat there, the card resting on your thighs, the room silent save for the faint creaking of the old wood beneath your chair.

Your eyes had gone wide without realizing it.

Then, without any warning, a single tear traced its way down your cheek.

Your fingers loosened against the card as your gaze shifted toward the box beside you. You looked at it like it had changed, like the objects inside now meant something more than what they were.

"Michael…" you whispered.

You looked around the room, as if expecting someone to explain it to you. But no one came. And you didn’t know why.

You didn’t know why it hurt.

Or why it didn’t.

Not yet.

You stared back down at the card, unmoving.

It was hard to believe the same boy from your childhood, mud on his boots, reckless glint in his eye, always one bad decision ahead, was the one who wrote this. That’s what made it all the more difficult. That’s what turned your throat tight and your chest hollow.

Maybe that’s what made you feel like crying in the first place.

With a trembling breath, you folded the letter and stuffed it back into the box. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not this. Not when the walls of your room suddenly felt too small, like they were closing in on you along with your thoughts.

You had no choice but to shove the box under your bed, out of sight. Maybe your father wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could pretend none of this ever happened, just long enough to breathe.

But the moment you stood up, your heart betrayed you.

No, you needed to see him.

Right now.

You didn’t care if it made sense. You didn’t care how badly he’d hurt you just days ago. All you knew was that if you didn’t see his face, hear his voice, something inside you might crack for good.

You bolted down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet as you made for the door.

But your father’s voice caught you like a rope pulling back.

"Y/n, can I talk to you?"

You blinked. "Hm?"

He was standing near the parlor with a faint look of concern etched into his brow. One hand rested on the back of the armchair, his shoulders stiff like he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask what he needed to.

"Just for a moment," he said, his tone gentle. "It won’t take long."

You stood still, torn between two kinds of weight, your past waiting behind you and your future galloping out the door ahead.

You swallowed.

"...Sure. What’s going on?"

taglist: @jjklover365daysayear @silverwings920 @bach-ira @rroxii@byzantiumhollow @amy-briar03 @ladykamos @emikikus18 @chuua-l0ver

[wonyrs]

feeling (un)lucky

nishimura riki x fmr gnr fluff, est. relationship warnings food, threats of breaking up, physical touch (kicking used once) wc 625 + library #

‘ one mistake almost ruins the entire date (but don't fear, for nishimura riki is here!). drabble style

“are you being serious right now, riki?”

your anxiety levels peaked as u stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. he shares your panic and frowns.

“why would i lie about this, babe?” he answers, his tone nervous. niki looked like he was going to shit his pants— whereas you would’ve taken a photo of if it weren’t for the current circumstances. “please forgive me.”

“i’m so close to punching you right now, nishimura. who forgets their wallet on a date at a millionaire’s restaurant?” you whisper-shouted.

there was a server behind you two, secretly eyeing you both in suspicion while handing out the meals. any decibel louder and the security might be called in.

“i’m sorry, okay?” niki pleads, his hands pressed together in a begging motion. you sigh and shake your head.

so much for a date night.

it took both of you weeks of preparation to be able to match the restaurant’s vibe. the establishment being settled at the top of the namsan seoul tower made the prices (un)reasonably expensive.

your boyfriend, who was on your last nerve, dismissed your worries on whether the prices were too high (quote: “i got the money under control. just leave it to me, princess ;).

turns out all his smugness about the finances went back and bit him in the butt seeing as how he forgot his card at home— almost an hour from the tower AND no one is back there to fetch it for him. talk about bad luck.

“if i could just call jay-hyung to go back and bring it here then mayb-“ a voice cut him off. you turn to the sound and your heart drops down to your ass. the last possible person you’d ever want to see.

“excuse me, sir and ma’am,” the staff started off. “we’ve noticed that you’ve… um… been finished for quite some time and,” they give you an awkward smile. both of you reciprocate.

“were wondering if there is anything else you’d like to order, or if you’d like the bill now?” your eyes widen. you whip your head to your boyfriend and signal with your eyes ‘no!’. he looks indecisive and nudges your foot underneath the table.

you held back a remark and resorted to softly kicked his shin instead.

“um… we’d actually like to order this special please,” you point to the menu, “if we can.”

the waiter grins and nods his head. he straightens his posture and walks back to the kitchen, ready to inform the team of the new order.

“riki. babe. love of my life. please call jay right now, i’m afraid this distraction won’t last long,” you lean over the table and grip his hands in yours. niki’s phone was in his hand, dialing the numbers of your potential saviour.

“it’ll be fine, n/n,” he assures you, rubbing his thumb over yours in an attempt to calm you down. “the most we’ll get is a scolding- but at least we won’t wash dishes!” niki laughs.

you roll your eyes and pinch him, inciting a small ‘hey!’ from the boy. while he did relax your nerves- just a little bit- the annoyance from earlier was still there.

with other couples chat in brisk, you two are stuck in a dilemma with only one person to rely on. your hands still intertwined, niki squeezes yours as comfort- whether for you or himself, we’ll never know.

“if we finish this next meal and jay isn’t here, consider this our last restaurant date, ‘ki.”

niki’s eyes widen in fright, practically leaping over the table to grab your shoulders. he shakes you around like a ragdoll while the other customers send over weird stares, their own conversations dimming down slowly.

“wait- please don’t say that, babe!”

note hi!! first drabble kind of bad :P but its ok!! more room for improvement (also TXT at knotts?? ARGHH) @cupidhoons read this before i posted :3

[bybobbysbeard]

Never Leavin' Blue

Day 1 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: non-sexual intimacy. read on ao3

“Can I try?”

Tommy looks up at the sound of Evan’s nervous question. His boyfriend is standing in the doorway of the living room, looming really; like he’s afraid to interrupt. He’s staring intently at the little glass bottle of OPI Never Leavin’ Blue nail polish in Tommy’s hands. 

He’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged, in front of the coffee table. He’s not sure how long Evan’s been standing there; Tommy knows he can get hyperfocused with a fiddly little task like this. Earlier, Evan was having a post-shift nap in Tommy’s bed, but he’s obviously had enough time to shower and change before tracking down his distracted boyfriend. 

Evan has seen him do this a couple of times, but he’s never asked to be involved before. Tommy’s got all his supplies laid out: paper towels to protect his shitty coffee table, a few q-tips, remover, the polish he’s already applied to a few fingers on his left hand, and a separate top coat.

Evan shifts, and Tommy realizes he hasn’t answered him.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“If you want to—”

They both stop when they realize they’re speaking over each other. Tommy laughs when Evan scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Evan, of course you can try. I’ve got a pile of colours under the sink in the ensuite. Take your pick.”

“Um, actually. I-I was hoping I could try painting your nails. Not my own.”

"Oh. Oh! Sure, yeah, baby, anything you want.” 

Evan melts at his words. 

Tommy pats the area rug next to him and watches with a bemused smile as Evan bounds over. He’s all golden-retriever energy now, his earlier shyness completely forgotten. Tommy caps the polish, giving it a shake while Evan gets situated, clumsy in his excitement. He hands it over when his boyfriend is sitting beside him, echoing his pose, their knees touching. 

“Have you painted anybody’s nails before?”

“N-no, never. I don’t think I’ve ever painted anything other than walls and baseboards. Maybe a ceiling when I was doing construction.”

“Well, it’s a little different than that, but the premise is the same. This polish will take a few coats, so don’t worry if the first one is thin.”

Evan smiles at him, blue eyes catching in the sunlight coming in through the bay window. He twists off the cap, watches the polish run down the side of the brush and pool into a big drip. 

”You won’t need that much. Wipe some of it back into the bottle.” He keeps his voice low and even, notices a faint flush blooming on the apple of Evan’s cheek as he follows his direction. The bottle is set back down on the table and Evan reaches out for Tommy’s half-finished hand, angling the wet brush upright. Calloused fingers wrap around his own, separating out his index finger. Evan’s hand is so warm. 

Tommy’s never had anyone offer to do this. 

The first brush of paint starts a little too low, leaving an unpainted strip close to the cuticle. Evan frowns, adjusting his grip. Tommy wraps his free fingers around Evan’s hand gently, wary of his tacky nails. Another brushstroke is laid down. Evan’s hands are steady. He's leaning in, concentrating, a hint of pink tongue poking out when he licks his lips. This close, Tommy could count his eyelashes. 

It’s quiet in the house, just the sound of their breathing and the ticking of his wall clock. Tommy breathes in the smell of wet nail polish and Evan‘s shampoo. His index finger is carefully released and Evan starts on his thumb. Tommy shifts carefully, keeping his hand motionless in Evan’s grasp, but stretching a leg out under the table. He feels the carpet under his butt, the couch at his back, the heat of Evan’s body next to him. 

The last stroke is too heavy, too close to the edge of his nail bed. Cool blue spills over his skin. 

Evan huffs, settling the brush back in the bottle and picking up a q-tip. “Sorry. I guess I need to practice.”

Tommy smiles at him. “You’re welcome to keep trying. I’m not going anywhere.”

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part four

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.