#for him probably not to even look at me BUT THAT'S FINE

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sunny

words: 500

warnings: soft!rafe, established relationship, childhood stuffed animal, mentions of sex but no smut

“wait!” you gasp, suddenly pulling away from the kiss.

“what, what is it?” the worry is evident on rafes face as his eyes widen, not sure what he did wrong. maybe it was all moving too fast for you.

“i-um.” your hands splay against the door behind you, the same door rafe pushed you against and captured your lips. “i need to move some stuff in my room before you come in.”

rafe rolls his eyes. “i don't care if it's messy.”

“it's just some um… personal stuff.” you giggle awkwardly.

“come on baby, you're my girlfriend now.” rafe knows it's probably nothing, but there's something inside of him that's desperate to know what you're attempting to hide, to learn all your secrets.

“fine, but if you make fun of me rafe cameron-” you hold a finger up to his face. “i won't break up with you but ill be very pissed.

“no laughing, got it.” rafe nods.

you sigh and open the door behind you, letting rafe step past you into the room. his eyes sweep over the floor, expecting to see something embarrassing, but there's only a bit of clothes tossed around. 

he shifts focus to your desk next, but it just has perfectly organized makeup. he looks at your bed last, a smile stretching across his face.

“i said no laughing!”

“im not laughing baby, this is so cute.” he coos out, stepping closer as he picks up the teddy bear, clearly old and well loved.

“be careful!” you squeal without even meaning to, rushing to stand next to rafe as he holds your childhood teddy.

“what's his name?” rafe asks.

“sunny.” you reply, pointing at the small embroidered patch in the shape of a sun, now faded to a pale yellow.

“this is what you didn't want me to see? baby, this is so cute. do you still sleep with sunny every night?”

“maybe…” you mumble. you don't take him on trips anymore like you did as a child, but he'll always have a place in your bed until he literally disintegrates.

“adorable.” rafe carefully sets the teddy bear down before turning to you, placing his hands on your cheeks. “you're the cutest.”

you roll your eyes. “i said no making fun of me.”

rafe shakes his head. “baby, it really is adorable.”

you furrow your brows, looking intensely at rafe, waiting for him to burst out laughing, but it never comes.

“you're seriously not making fun of me.” you hum out.

“in case you weren't aware by me asking you out, im kinda obsessed with everything you do.” rafe chuckles softly. “it's adorable, you're adorable.”

rafe glances at sunny, sat smiling on your bed, his brown fur carefully brushed through to keep it from matting. “but we should turn him the other direction when we have sex. it feels wrong.”

“oh, i got it!” you pick sunny up and move to your closet, opening it to reveal a small chair fit for a baby as you place him on it and shut the door.

“perfect.” rafe smiles. “now should we get back to what we were doing?”

you nod rapidly. “yes, absolutely.”

sfw taglist: @juniebugg @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d

[perlelune]

Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | ii.

The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking,

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You let your fingers wander over the edge of the car window, a big smile spread across your face. The gentle breeze flutters across your skin and birdsong fills your ears. You bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfortable feeling sitting inside your chest. The morning was spent visiting the university you’ll be joining in the coming fall. You were given a tour of campus and all the historical buildings you’ll get to wander through soon. It filled you with anticipation, getting that brief glimpse into college life. You’ve been in Outer Banks your whole life and while it’s pretty much a paradise, you’re looking forward to experiencing something new and exciting.

Dad insisted on driving you since you don’t have your license yet. The two of you constantly got wrapped in animated chatter on the way to and from campus. While it’s hard for Ward to watch one of his baby birds leave the nest, you appreciate how supportive he’s been overall. After long hours coaxing him with Mom of course. Dad was skeptical at first. He even suggested you take a gap year to mull it over, like Sarah did. But you and Sarah are like the sun and moon. She’d be the sun of course. While your big sister is content running off with the Pogues on wild adventures and setting aside college for now, you can’t picture yourself doing that. You’re a Cameron, but you’re not Sarah Cameron. With her sweet disposition and golden mane, your sister could probably get away with murder by batting her lashes and flashing her signature sunny grin. Things are different for you. Very different. You haven’t forgotten where you come from, much as everyone in the family pretends you’re just as quintessentially Kook as the rest of them. 

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you pivot to Ward.

“Thanks for driving me, dad.”

He beams, his blue gaze drifting away from the road as it lands on you.

“No problem, sweetheart. It’s an amazing school. Great program. Campus looks good too. I know you’ll fit right in.”

A wave of warmth blows through you. “Thanks.”

Sighing, you turn to the epitome of gloom and petulance in the backseat. His arms are folded over his broad chest, his irate blue eyes glued to the window. Your brother’s been cranky all morning. Any trivial inquiry or mundane remark set him off. He barely uttered a word to Dad and graced you with nothing but stubborn silence. It’s blatant he isn’t handling the prospect of your imminent absence well. The silence concerns you a little though. Rafe isn’t one to chew his words or swallow them. So whatever resentment he harbors about your decision to go away for college must run deep. It casts a veil of despondency upon an otherwise wonderful day. 

Of all people, you’d expect your big brother to support you the most. 

His sour-faced demeanor never relents, even when Ward stops the car in front of Tannyhill. Dad sighs as he parks the truck. He’s already lectured Rafe twice on the way back. You note the disappointment etched on his face, the way he squares his shoulders and readies him to march towards his son and lash out at him again. You put your hand on his shoulder and shake your head. The last thing you need is your brother and father at each other’s throat again. It’d be nice to linger in the exhilaration the campus left you with a little longer. 

“It’s fine, dad. Let me talk to him,” your say. 

Dad’s shoulders sag. He yields, heading inside the house and leaving you with Rafe. You lean next to him on the truck, head tilted in concern. 

“Hey…You haven’t said a word since we came back. What did you think?” 

When he fails to reply, his face taut, your frustration swells. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”

It’s when he snaps, the vein in his forehead pulsing. He swivels to you. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to go to a school so far from us, y’know? A five hour drive, really?”

Your brows crumple to a frown.

“Rafe…”

He cuts you off with a mirthless laugh, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. “And the way you kept gushing about college parties and college boys…” His jaw ticks. “I just don’t like it.” 

Rafe pauses, licking his lips and humming as if lost in the depths of reflection. “I think…”

When he trails off, you urge him to go on, impatience clear in your tone, “What do you think?”

He shrugs before casually stating, “I think you’re gonna land yourself into trouble like the airhead that you are and come crawling back home.”

Your face comes ablaze at his words. You punch his shoulders as tears rush to your eyes.

“You can be such a jerk sometimes.”

You stomp away from him, ire radiating from you in waves. He catches up to you with ease. An apology creeps on his face, his fingers clasping around your arm.

“Wait, princess.” 

He impedes your path, forcing you to halt in your tracks. He puts a hand on his chest, his expression earnest. 

“Look I’m just trying to look out for my little sister here, okay?” A hint of sadness seeps through his tone. “I thought you at least appreciated that.”

Your shoulders slump. 

“I do, Rafe, but…I’ll be gone soon. I need you to accept it.”

“I just think it’s too soon.”

“Rafe, I’ll visit. So often that you guys will get sick of me,” you say, your tone reassuring.

The suggestion does little to assuage him, his eyes rolling in annoyance. 

“You could take a gap year like Dad said. It wouldn’t be a big deal. You’re a Cameron.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You’re keenly aware Rafe will abhor the words bubbling in your throat before they even leave your mouth.

“Well, not exactly...”

He snickers. “It’s those Pogues…they got in your head, didn’t they?”

Your brows furrow. In your brother’s eyes, everything’s always a Pogues’ fault. He’s never been too fond of the fact that you still hang out on that side of the island sometimes. The phrase ‘You’re a Kook now princess, act like it.’ has left his mouth a numberless amount of times in the past seven years whenever he found you drifting a little too far from the family.

“What? It’s got nothing to do with my friends, Rafe,” you retaliate. 

Your gazes clash, a silent war of unwavering wills as your brother looms over you. He works his jaw and unleashes a long exhale. 

“So you’re just gonna leave us? It’s final?”

Reluctance drips from your clipped tone. “Yeah, it’s final.”

“I see.”

He gives a sluggish nod of acknowledgement before rushing inside the house.

You trail behind him, panic fluttering through your chest.

“Rafe…”

His back remains turned. Your stomach sinks, his staunch ignorance driving a blade through your heart. The last thing you want is to be away from Rafe, away from your family. But college matters to you. Why can’t he see that? 

Mom stands by the counter, dumbfounded by Rafe’s furious stride up the stairs. 

“What’s gotten into him?”

A deep sigh ripples through your lips as you meet Mom’s concerned stare. “You know Rafe…”

You turn to her.

“You wanted to talk to me, mom?”

She beams at you. You straighten your spine. 

Mom texted you on the way back. She mentioned Sarah would be here too, causing your suspicions to hit a peak.

Nearly every talk with Mom devolved into a firm reminder to behave in a manner befitting a Cameron, befitting Ward Cameron’s daughter. Your mother’s foot never eased off your neck in the last few years. 

Nothing besides perfection is allowed.

Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect behavior. Not a single blight or misstep shall ruin the blended nuclear family image Mom and Ward strive to project. Dad might be more subtle about it, but you know his expectations of you align with Mom’s. 

Whenever Sarah slackens, the burden passes on to you. You’re supposed to set an example for Willa and Wheezie to follow.

Mom glances between you and Sarah, the latter already sitting on a stool by the counter. It’s clear your sister would rather be anywhere but here. Likely hanging out with John B or some other fun thing. “To both of you, actually.”

You and Sarah exchange a look, one you have countless times before. The quiet acceptance that you’re both about to be lectured by Alice Cameron.

Resigned, you plop down in the stool next to Sarah’s. 

Excitement oozes off Mom’s voice as she starts speaking. 

“You remember when I told you about the Calliopean Society Debutante Ball?”

Sarah’s lips twitch as she tamps down a grin. “You mean the one you’ve been massively subtle about?”

It’s true. For months, Mom has dropped heavy hints regarding her desire to see both you and Sarah become debs. Even amongst Kooks, being picked to represent the institution is seen as the highest honor. Only a handful of young women from prestigious families in North Carolina are picked, ones whose families have made significant contributions to the county. 

A series of events antecedes the ball, including but not limited to Midsummers, a variety of tea parties and galas. The whole thing is archaic at best and cringeworthy at worst. 

You’ve tried to get Mom to relinquish the idea of you joining it. But she’s been relentless. The symbol of status it epitomizes isn’t something she’ll let go off so easily. 

Not when she’s tried to make everyone on Figure Eight forget where she comes from. Mom would do anything to bury any hint of her past as a Pogue.

You bump Sarah’s elbow, berating her with a frown, “Sarah.”

She chuckles and stands a bit straighter. 

Mom sighs at her antics, her forehead creasing.

“Girls. I need you to focus.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry, Alice,” Sarah echoes.

Mom marks a dramatic pause, causing dread to tickle your insides. If she’s this excited, it’s almost a given that you won’t be.

Indeed, her next words confirm your inkling.

“Well, I managed to slip in both of your names in the short list while attending the Midsummer’s committee,” she says.

You wince. “Mom…why would you do that?”

Her elation doesn’t waver. “They’ve never had a young woman like you in their ranks and they’re trying to be more open-minded this year.”

“Mom, this is old-fashioned and gross. The girls are presented like broodmares to be sold.”

Her brows knit. “That is not what this is. Being chosen is an honor.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and you purse your lips. Mom squints at you, folding her arms.

“I want you two to participate in all the events leading up to it.”

Sarah blinks in disbelief. “Come again?”

“Isn’t Midsummer enough?” you refute. 

It’s bad enough you’re not given much of a choice in attending the stuffy event. The fact that Mom wants you and Sarah to take it one step further is wild.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place, sweetie?” she laments, looking straight at you. “It’ll be an opportunity to bond with young ladies your age.”

This doesn’t stir you. You doubt you have much in common with the kind of girls picked out as debutantes. This was probably the same crowd you’ve exerted great effort in avoiding at the Kook school. 

“Kie will be there too, but only if you go,” you specify.

This catches your interest, mostly because of how absurd that statement is. You’re pretty sure Kie would likely chop off an arm before agreeing to be a debutante, even if you did it too.

Sarah’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“Kie? No way, you’re making this up.”

A mischievous smile unfurls on Mom’s lips.

“Well, it wasn’t easy to get her to agree but her father threatened to stop paying for her unlimited data plan.”

Oh so it’s like that? Kie’s parents resorted to blackmail. Makes sense. You just can’t picture your rebellious friend agreeing to this without an incentive. You surmise threatening to cut off her only means of constant communication with the Pogues might sway her mind a bit. 

“Yeah that…tracks.”

“Can you do it, please?”

Your shoulders sag. “Mom, I really wished you stopped trying to impress those women. You do realize they’ll always look at us the same way, no matter what we do.”

Mom’s face dims at your words. An instant wave of guilt fills you. You should have kept your mouth shut. She tosses her hands in the air.

“Fine. I never ask you girls for anything, but okay.” She starts frantically cleaning the kitchen, loud clangs echoing as she grabs random pots and pans from the oven and cabinets. “When I was your age…” You suppress an eye roll. Here we go. You and Sarah trade a knowing glance. Anytime she starts a sentence that way, you know you’re doomed. “I’d have killed to get an opportunity like this...” 

Mom continues rambling about how privileged and spoiled you and Sarah are, how she was never given those kinds of chances. She mentions her rough upbringing and hammers in the sacrifices she made to raise you. She reminds Sarah all the times she showed up for her and that she loves her the same way a mother would. You spot the exact moment your sister breaks. By the end, the guilt both Sarah and you feel is palpable, its weight clogging the air. 

“Ugh…Fine, we’ll do it,” Sarah relents.

Mom’s sour face immediately shifts to a triumphant expression.

As the evening rolls around, the sky shifting to duskier hues, an unexpected presence slips through your bedroom door. 

You sit up, your pink headphones tumbling down to your neck. 

“Rafe!” you exclaim, eyes widening in astonishment.

A lopsided smirk unfolds on his face at your reaction. He slowly closes the door and strolls to your bed. The mattress bounces when Rafe tosses himself on it. He drags his fingers along your sheets for a while, the golden family ring on his finger glimmering dully. You wait anxiously with your legs crossed.

After what seems an eternity, blue eyes swing upward as he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he blurts out. He licks his lips and holds your gaze, his fingers wandering to your knee. Rafe’s deep voice lowers, oozing sadness. “I just know everyone in this house will drive me crazy if you’re not there.”

“There’s always Sarah.”

That draws a burst of laughter from him. He shakes his head.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

Your face breaks out in a grin. Throughout the years, it’s always staggered you how different the dynamic between you and Rafe is different from his relationship with Sarah. Everything’s a competition for Rafe when it comes to Sarah, starting with the ceaseless quest for Dad’s approval. Meanwhile, since that day at the wedding, Rafe has never failed to be there for you. He’s been the best big brother, attentive and kind. While on the exterior he could be a jackass to everyone, including your Pogue friends, he’s never been that way with you. You could talk to him about your problems, however trivial they may be. He’s the one who made you feel most welcome at Tannyhill, impugning every presumption you harbored about what having Rafe Cameron as your brother would be like. And now you can’t picture your life without Rafe in it. 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll text. I’ll call you every week.”

“Won’t be the same.”

You take a deep breath.

“For the record, I’ll miss you too. A lot.”

“You better.”

You chuckle.

“Hey, I never gave you your birthday gift…” Rafe says, fishing for something in his back pocket. A sly smirk tugs his lips. “I wanted to do something a little different this year.” You’re filled with shock when he produces a little bag full of white powder. 

You blink rapidly as he holds it up. You’ve seen him take some at parties, sell it to his guests. Once or twice, you got curious and asked to try. He vehemently turned you down, insisting he’s not about to let his little sister get fucked up…despite spending the whole night getting fucked up himself.

“Really?”

Rafe’s smirk broadens. “Really.”

Excitement flushes through you. You can’t deny you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.

“You like…never let me try before.”

He laughs, shifting closer to you. 

“Because I was trying to keep my sweet little sister pure. Can you blame me, princess?” he says, fingertips tracing your knee. 

You swallow thickly, your face heating when he places the little pouch in your hand.

“I actually have no idea how to…”

“I’ll show you, of course. It’s my job as your big brother to teach you everything.” His voice dips to a velvety bass as your eyes lock. “So let me pop your cherry, princess.”

When you stare at him, slack-jawed, Rafe snorts. 

“It’s just a phrase, relax.”

Amusement dances in his blue eyes at your clueless expression. He grabs a paper from his pocket and begins rolling it. 

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He gently swipes the pouch and takes your hand, opening your palm to pour just a tiny amount of the white powder in the middle. “Let’s just keep this a secret between us, okay?” His eyes twinkle. “I don’t want Alice to think I’m… corrupting you or something.”

[christinebloodwrittings]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?

Heart in debt

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.

Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.

The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.

Everything was ready.

Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.

The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.

However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.

It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.

And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.

“Then, what would you say is the best way?”  you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.

Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.

“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.

“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.

"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.

"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".

Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did. 

“My love, I'm sorry, I  had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.

"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.

"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.

"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.

"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.

You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.

One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.

Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.

You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.

“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.

“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.

“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.

Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.

One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.

A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.

When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.

A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.

“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.

“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.

“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.

“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.

His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.

“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.

When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.

“My dearest friend.

How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.

Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.

If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”

I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.

While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.   

“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.

Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.

Sincerely, Y/n.”

“Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.

A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.

You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.

“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.

 “I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.

“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.

“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.

“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.    

“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.

“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.

“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.

“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.

“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.

He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.

Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.  

“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.

The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.

“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.

“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.

Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely  to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.

She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.

“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.

“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.  

“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.

“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.  

He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.

“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.

“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.

“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.

He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.

“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.

“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.

“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.

“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.

“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.

“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.

“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died,  “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.

“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.

“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.  

[withleeknow]

minho and https://open.spotify.com/track/4gAIUEY7VkeiKQOPwIYaYb?si=oZNdDS-aTUm9V7bEycscDQ 🩷🩷

flower.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a teeny bit angsty?; minho's pov word count: 0.7k note: i am very sorry if this is bad i wrote most of this while half asleep so please forgive me kshdkfhsk

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

one day if a flower blooms in your heart would you be able to understand me?

Flower - DANIEL

minho has been up for a while now, just lying here with you as you snuggle close to him like you can't help but gravitate toward him even in your sleep. one of his hands slips under your shirt where he gently traces the smooth skin of your waist, careful not to rouse you from slumber.

he fails though. maybe a particular swipe of thumb over your body was too ticklish.

"you're so warm."

the words come out a little slurred, a little muffled from where your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, safe and sound on this chilly saturday morning. you stir awake for long enough just to say that, and before he knows it, you're off to dreamland once more, from where you probably won't return for at least another hour or so.

minho halts instantly. you're none the wiser, still sleeping peacefully with your soft breaths fanning his collarbones.

cold, mean, unwelcoming, standoffish, callous. you could name any synonym of these words and he's probably been called that before, by friends and by strangers alike. some of them didn't utter it with malicious intent, but rather it was only a passing comment said in a teasing manner, with a lightheartedness that they didn't think he would mind because, well, apparently he just didn't have enough heart to take it as anything other than a joke.

he's used to it, he's gotten numb to it. somewhere along the way, minho accepted that maybe his name is merely one of those synonyms. it's fine, it doesn't matter. he doesn't really mind it because at the end of the day, none of these people could ever be you.

you're the only person whose opinion he cares about. when all is said and done, he doesn't care if the rest of the world thinks cold and heartless, as long as you know who he is. you're the only thing that matters; everything else just simply... falls away.

he's always struggled with opening up, even if the person on the receiving end is you. it doesn't come naturally to him at all. minho was never raised to be openly affectionate, and it just isn't an inherent trait that he possesses. he's not the kind of guy that tells you he loves you every hour of every day, nor is he the type to smother you with gifts and kisses and grand gestures on a daily basis.

no, minho's love comes quietly, rooted in almost every mundane aspect of life that it's often easy to miss if you don't know where to look. his love comes in the form of packed lunches and home-cooked dinners, of a blanket draped over your form after you've fallen asleep at your desk while working on a project for work. of his hand holding tightly onto yours when you get overwhelmed in crowded places. of his eyes always looking at you as though you're the eighth wonder of the world and he'll never get tired of being mesmerized by you. of texts asking if you've eaten. of sporadic videos of soondoongdori simply sleeping or munching on treats, accompanied by no other message or explanation.

there's a million ways that minho cares for you; he doesn't have to shout it from the rooftops for you to know. you do know, and that's enough for the both of you.

but it's not until you uttered those simple words just now that minho realizes how much he needed to hear them out loud. he's well aware that you didn't mean it like that. you meant it quite literally, because sometimes he does run hot and you've always loved that. your personal human furnace to keep you nice and toasty whenever you wanted. he knows it and yet, he still lets the words wiggle their way inside his ribcage and make a home there. they settle somewhere beside his heart and mend something in him that he didn't notice was cracked and chipped, worn away after years and years of people telling him he was callous.

minho isn't sure how long he's been holding his breath, but the very second he inhales again, everything feels lighter, like he's finally leaving behind some of the weight that he's been carrying with him his whole life.

his fingers resume their ministrations on your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he holds you a little tighter, and everything feels like it's going to be okay.

even in your half-asleep state with your mind completely elsewhere, you still manage to take his breath away. maybe you really are the eighth wonder of the world after all.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 19.05.2024]

[therabbitthatpostthings]

“Nanami-San is so sweet, isn’t he?” You glanced over to your coworker, Yuka. She seamlessly slid her way into the conversation you and another group of co-workers were having. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear and smiled, “Just now, he helped me fix the paper jam.”

“If only I could meet someone as kind as he is.” Mei sighed with a dreamy smile.

“Way better than the other guys here.” Nitori huffed.

“Don’t you think he’s so cool, (L/N).” Yuka smiled.

“Uh- y-yeah. Of course he is.” You replied quickly. The energy shifted in this small huddle, no one looked to have felt it except for you and…her.

“I’d bet he’d make a great boyfriend.” Yuka voice was traced with vile yet she smiled so sweetly at you and only you.

“He’d make a great husband!” Nitori smiled. “A man like that would be anyone’s dream!”

“Yeah, an equally great and gorgeous partner for someone like Nanami.” Yuka said.

Mei laughed, “Yeah you can say that Yuka because you’re already so pretty.”

“Oh my god guys, stop!” Yuka squealed as she finally took her eyes off you. The conversation faded out in your mind and it was only filled with the thought of Yuka. Yuka is so gorgeous. She had her hair lightened to a beautiful auburn color but even before she looked amazing. A youthful face with elegant eyes and long lashes. Lips always tinted pink, nails always manicured. She looked like every man’s dream. She was every man’s dream…

Yuka’s hand on your shoulder shook you out of your thoughts. “(L/N), are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.” You replied, noticing the other coworkers had left.

Yuka smiled that sickly sweet smile again, “Don’t worry (L/N), if you ever confessed to Nanami, I’m sure he’d let you down easy. Plenty of fish in the sea. Even someone with your looks could find a partner.”

With the grace of a swan she left. You suddenly felt very sick.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。✫・。.・゜ ✭・.

You entered the apartment slowly and quietly. You carefully slipped off your work shoes and sat your bag down. Lightly stepping from the door to the hallway and down the hall. You knew it was no use, he definitely heard you come in but for a moment you could pretend he didn’t. Deciding you were already caught, you took a nice long shower before heading back to the kitchen.

"Did something happen at work?" Kento asked.

"No."

"Really?" He turned around to face you. His hair was ruffled and pushed back. He wore an old worn out sweater you bought him under his soft yellow apron. A welcomed sight from the stern and business oriented Nanami Kento everyone at work was obsessed with.

"I'm fine." You say plainly. He's probably be better off without me....

Kento gently pulled you into his embrace. He gently caressed up anxiously down your arms as you melted into him. His chin rested on your head, “Please tell me what happened.”

You sighed, “You came up in a conversation today. Everyone said you are so perfect, and you are! And I’m just- not…”

As much as you enjoyed your “low-key” relationship, you couldn’t help but feel jealous at how they would swoon over Kento. How they would talk about your boyfriend to you as if you meant nothing to him. Kento said he loves you and you know he does! You wanted to tell them but then you’d be the talk of the office. There is no way out of this and you started to worry if those same coworkers had more to offer him.

“You are perfect. Far too perfect than I deserve.”

“Ken, don’t say thing just to make me feel better-“

He cupped your face in his hands, “(Y/N), I think you are the most kind, patient, diligent, and compassionate person I’ve ever met. You are far more perfect than a stubborn man like me.”

You laughed as you leaned into his warm hands, “Your not stubborn Ken, you’re just headstrong.”

“Now you are saying things to make me feel better.” He leaned in to place a kiss on you forehead, cheek and lips. Your hearted swelled and all the remarks from today drifted away. Yuka may be beautiful and can desire Kento all she wants but he comes home to you everyday.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。✫・。.・゜ ✭・.

After months of back-breaking labor, you’ve finally gotten a job offer at a new office closer to your home. Meanwhile Kento had also gotten a hire role in his department. It finally felt like things were going well.

“Oh, Yuka! Would you like to catch lunch with us?” Nitori called as Yuka entered the room. She plopped down on the seat next to you.

“I guess,” she playfully sighed. “I tried asking Nanami and guess what! He said he’s eating lunch with his partner! He’s had a whole relationship for like three years now!”

“Talk about lucky.” Nitori giggled.

“Ah, so none of us stood a chance.” Mei joked.

“Are you doing anything for lunch (L/N),” Yuka smiled her sickly sweet smile. You gave her one right back.

“Actually yes, thank you for asking though.”

Before she had the chance to ask, Nanami popped his head in the door. “(Y/N), are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m all finished.” You smiled. You grabbed you phone, making sure to savor Yuka’s shocked face and headed over to Ken. He gave you a light kiss on the head and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Bye guys.” You waved. You knew you’d never hear the end of it when you got back but it was definitely worth it.

[lexisecretaccx]

Is it gonna hurt? - C.S

Masterlist!

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, fluff, mentions of blood and piercings and needles!, suggestive, not proofread!)

Summary: Chris’ girlfriend is great at piercings, frequently giving herself and friends some, but after Chris watches her he wants one too…

“Don’t hurt yourself please ma..” Chris pleads, nervously watching as I clamp my eyebrow. “I’ve done this so many times Chris I know what I’m doing.” I chuckle lightly.

I take a deep breath in as I hold the needle ready to pierce, I can see Chris squirming anxiously on the seat next to me. We’re in my office, which is basically a piercing place for me and my friends, I have all the professional stuff. I quickly push the needle through my brow and breathe out during it. Chris yelps lightly.

“You okay?” He gets up and walks to me, “yes baby I’m good, just let me put the piercing in first.” I smile at him. I put the piercing in and screw the ball back on. I sigh with relief and grab a disinfectant wipe from the desk.

I start to clean up the light blood around my fresh piercing. “Is it supposed to bleed??” He asks frantically and all I can do is laugh at his concern, “it can bleed sometimes yes, I’m okay it doesn’t feel like anything.” I make sure the piercing is secure and I remove the gloves before cleaning my supplies.

“You look sexy mama.” Chris’ arms link around my waist, his head rests on my shoulder as he peppers kisses on my collarbone. “It’s actually super hot.” I say as I look in the mirror.

Chris’ arms let go of me and I hear a shuffle on the armchair. I turn around to see Chris sat there grinning like a child. “What?” I laugh, “me next.” He points at his eyebrow. “You want me to stick a needle through your eyebrow?” I smirk, and Chris’ grin slightly fades. “Is it gonna hurt?” He asks slightly nervous now.

“Well, how did you find the ear piercings, on a scale from 1-10?” I ask as I fiddle with his V.W earrings, “like a 2? I can’t remember but it didn’t hurt much.” He looks up at me with his blue eyes.

“This’ll probably be like a 3 then, but everyone’s different.” I smirk, he adjusts himself on the armchair leaning back slightly. “You’re gonna have to sit on the stool.” I point over at the professional area. “I want you to sit on my lap as you pierce my eyebrow. You’re just so hot when ur focused baby.” He flirts.

I sigh but can’t help but blush. “Fine.” I drag a mini table with all the supplies, clamps, piercings, wipes, etc. over to us. I straddle his lap so we’re face to face, “don’t make this weird, I need to make sure I don’t do it wrong.” I speak strictly and Chris’ eyes widen before he smirks.

“Okay boss.” He grips my waist, I look down. “What’re you doing?” I ask in a stern voice. “Making sure you don’t fall.” He spoke innocently.. “okay..” I laugh lightly.

“This might hurt more than the piercing.. the clamp it likes squeezes ur skin.” I smirk as he nods like a puppy, following my every instruction without breaking eye contact. I clamp the skin by his eyebrow making sure it’s in the right place, “you okay?” I ask gently, “yeah.” He whispers. I kiss his cheek gently before grabbing the needle.

His face drops.. “that’s going in my eyebrow?” He asks in a shocked tone. I smile softly, “do you trust me baby?” I tilt my head, “of course I do ma, you know that.” He smiles, I grip his chin and move his face to the side slightly, I readjust my position earning a groan from him, making me smirk. “Breathe in.” I say, holding the needle above the clamp. Chris inhales.

“Breathe out.” I instruct and as he does I push the piercing through his eyebrow, he flinches lightly. “You’re okay Chris.” I reassure him, “you did it!” I chuckle and his eyes light up, “let me just put the piercing in.” I poke my tongue out in concentration.

“Done!” I smile and wipe the piercing, “oh my god I love you.” He tries to hug me, “wait baby, I don’t want you to catch it.” His face drops, “I can’t even hug you now?” He says sadly, “yeah we can hug but I’m nervous for it to get caught in my hair.” I smile before leaning my head into his shoulder and hugging him, “this is safer for your eyebrow.” I chuckle softly.

He plays with my hair, “we got matching eyebrow piercings now.” He says happily. “I love you.” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you wanna see it?” I pull away from him.

“Yeah ofc ma.” I get off of his lap, ignoring the light bulge in his pants which he can’t control, but smirking to myself because that’s the effect I have on him. He stands up too. We walk over to the mirror and he smiles widely. “This is sick! Oh my god baby.” He turns to me and pulls me into a kiss.

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, my ring doorbell goes off interrupting the kiss.

“What the fuck.” Chris complains, I check my phone and see Matt and Nick at my door, probably picking us up to get food. Nicks putting his face in the camera which makes me laugh to myself.

“Come on, Christopher.” I joke as I pull him to the door and we walk down the stairs. As I open the door, Nick gasps. “Your eyebrow! CHRIS’ EYEBROW?” He speaks loudly. “I pierced mine and Chris wanted one too.” I laugh. “I’m surprised he didn’t pussy out of it.” Matt smirks but Chris pushes him, “he was fine.” I smile.

“You guys coming?” Nick calls as he walks to the car. “Coming.” We all say back, Chris puts his arm around my waist as we walk to the car. He gets in the passenger seat and I sit behind him next to Nick.

“You need to pierce Nicks bellybutton y/n.” Matt laughs as he starts driving, Nick gasps in fear. “No. You should pierce Matts mouth shut.” I just laugh. “Don’t take advantage of my girlfriend’s piercing skills please.” Chris chuckles. “I’m gonna start charging people for piercings.” We all laugh and Chris connects his phone to aux and starts blasting random music.

Matt gets angry and turns off the aux system. “What the fuck?” Chris complains, “Chris baby, what the fuck was that?” I ask, stifling a laugh. “Music.” He defends himself. Nick starts laughing bonelessly. “What?!” Chris asks loudly. “If that’s music then I’m married to Abe Lincoln.” Everyone except Chris laughs.

“You wish you could marry Abe Lincoln.” Chris pouts. “Yeah I do.” Nick smiles.

A/n: this was a little oneshot because I love one shots🤭 Chris with an eyebrow piercing😍😫 anyways love y’all!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi

[ssparksflyy]

having a migraine with leo valdez ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚

pairing leo valdez x gn!reader summary based off this request ! an sorry these are pretty short !!

the first time you got a migraine, he was so confused

he really didn't know what to do and was just nervous

entered bunker nine to find you miserable and went into panic mode

"are you ok? do you need water? what's wrong? what hurts? ill put some vaporub on! it helps with everything, it'll bring you back to life!!"

as he's running around, searching through drawers, trying to find something that'll help you.

once you tell him youve got a migraine, he's quick to turn down the light (he SO has a light dimmer) and shut off anything that's making noise (really doesn't care if he goes crazy without white noise, you come first!!)

i like to imagine bunker nine having leo's main work area, but then having a room in the back that he stays in (with an attached bathroom of course) so he'll lead you over there and help you lie down comfortably then pulls out a literal solid ice water bottle for you to put on your head from his mini fridge/nightstand

cause this man does not have ice packs bye

he makes you coffee in hopes itll have a helpful affect

and itll help you sleep !! (using adhd knowledge here guys)

you cannot convince me that this man is not a fruit addict

he has some strawberries from the fields in his mini fridge that he'll give to you so you have some vitamin c in ya

( if youre allergic to strawberries, imagine any other fruit that helps cause i guarantee you, this man has at least a handful of it )

once you finish he tucks you in and gives you a little peck on your forehead before turning the lights off and closing the door as he leaves

cranks the ac UP cause nobody likes feeling like shit and being hot

while you sleep, he does something quietly

i dont even wanna say he'll probably start drawing up some plans for a new project he's been wanting to work on

cause he was probably going to!! but then he finds a rubiks cube he left unsolved and starts playing with that

leo is one of those people who can solve a rubiks cube quickly for sure

hes no national title holder, but hes quick

he solves it, and then scrambles it again, and then solves it, and then scrambles it again, and then solves-

oh look youre awake now !!

he asks you if your ok now and if you need anything else ♡♡

you tell him your fine and thank him for helping you :))

he'd obviously do anything to help you in a heartbeat, no questions asked

takes you out for a walk in the woods so you can get some fresh air

he'll pick some dandelions for you on your walk and will help you put them in your hair if you ask him ♡

the first time had to be the most stressful, but now if you ever get a migraine you got a boyfriend who knows what to do !!

[mikobeautifulheart]

Calling you their girlfriend

When your not actually together (yet). *Not proof read

(Btw use of the word girlfriend and mentions of death and corpses.)

INCLUDING: Megumi and Yuji

~Megumi~

You slowly opened your eyes and started to pull your stuff together. You stood up, not paying attention to the large gash on your leg bleeding out.

Instead you let out a sigh and walked past what was left of Nanami's body, You made your way through Shibuya station before setting your eyes on the unconscious body of Megumi. You leaned down and slung his arm around the back of your neck. Being totally honest you didn't even know if Megumi was alive, regardless you were going to get Megumi ('s body) out of there.

It was hard, he was taller and heavier then you but you still somewhat dragged his body out of there only to be met with Ichiji's corps on the floor. You kept staring at it until you felt Megumi's weight leave you, making you turn your head to see Shoko and other sorcerers attending to peoples wounds.

"Y/n are you okay? Y/n?"

You heard her voice fine but all you did was stare at her, empty and exhausted.

"Make sure Megumi's alright" Was the last thing you remember before blacking out.

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

"No, you HAVE to let me see her"

It was a familiar low voice, one you were fond of.

"Sorry but she's in no condition to see visitors right now."

"Will she die if she sees me?"

"No but-"

Yeah it was Megumi's voice, that means he is okay then.

"Then i'm going in"

The door slowly slid open and that was the first time you opened your eyes after Shibuya. The thought of Megumi coming to visit you made your head spin (in the good way) even if he did come out of curiosity at least it meant he sort of cared about you.

"We can't just let anyone get in there"

"She's my girlfriend" he said agitated.

Your heart started pumping and your cheeks were pink. No that couldn't be Megumi then, it was probably a dream. There was nothing between you guys other then being class mates. You sunk back into disappointment and closed your eyes so you didn't have to see the imaginary situation unfold.

The room was silent and suddenly you felt a rough hand hold yours, and a gentle thumb rub. Your breath hitched, if it was a dream this feeling wouldn't be so... real.

"Sir, your going to have to leave or i'll call security"

he turned his head, about to say something.

"If he leaves i'll die" You said with a raspier voice then you remembered.

He whipped his head around so fast, confirming in your mind that this was real. He squeezed your hand tighter as your eyes wandered to the bandage on his arm.

"You were out pretty bad huh? Are you okay?" you asked.

The nurse took that as her que to leave.

"About that. I don't really know what to say because saying thank you dosen't really measure up to how grateful I am to you."

"Eh w's nothing" you mumbled slightly embarrassed.

"I heard you outside there, nice save with the girlfriend thing." you said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah...I guess." He said, the tip of his ears turning pink.

"I'm just glad your better Megumi" You said sensing how unconfutable he felt after your comment.

"Look y/n I-I know were just friends or classmates or whatever you think but I...I really like you more then that."

You let out a giggle

"I like you more then that too."

-Yuji-

Yuji is a calm guy, he's rational and friendly. So why is it now that in the deepest part of his chest did he feel some stirring frustration?

For weeks he's been getting to know everyone at Jujutsu high and you were no exception. Out of everyone he knew you were the one he would hang out with most. Something about your nature kept drawing him in, leave him wanting for more. All those late nights at each others dorms, walks around the city when you finished your missions together and going to the cinema when you both had time off.

You had grown on Yuji and he trusted you, that's why he was clenching his fists and smiling when he heard one of the Kyoto school guys asked if you were busy after the event.

Its not like he had any right to interfere with your friendships anyway, he knew that he was just a friend right now and if you wanted to hang around the Kyoto students then that was your choice.

But Yuji just couldn't shake the torment of the guys smile when ever you laughed at his crappy jokes.

"Ah Yuji there you are, what the hell do you think your doing here!? We were supposed to met at- HEY DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" Nobora yelled as she watched Yuji stand up in some sort of trance and slowly walk toward you.

"Oh hey Yuji, I was just talking to some of the Kyoto students, this guys a fan of movies to!" You smiled brightly.

"Nice to met you" The guy smiled at Yuji reaching his hand out for Yuji to shake.

"You to, so y/n tells me you like movies?" Yuji put on an innocent grin.

"Yeah, bit of a film expert actually." he chuckled looking at you.

"Wow, must be nice I don't usually get the story first time round, luckily my smart girlfriend rants to me about it after." Yuji said with a checkmate look on his face.

"Honestly sometimes I zone out but I like letting her pretty lips run, its music to my ears."

You felt your face heat up, there's a chance Yuji made a mistake- he couldn't have possibly just called you his girlfriend, right?

"Honestly I must be the luckiest man alive because y/n is was out of my league."

The Kyoto student also turned red. All he could do was mutter a 'yeah' and walk away dissapointed.

Yuji stood there grinning before thinking abut what he had actually done. What a jerk he though.

Suddenly he felt an arm link onto his making him look down surprised.

"I'm so glad to have such a lovely boyfriend too." You said smiling brightly.

"S-sorry y/n I don't know what got over me haha..." He trailed off hoping the earth would swallow him whole.

"Well maybe if you take me to the cinema tonight I'll forgive you."

He turned his head back to you and beamed.

"Your going to have to explain it to me after though."

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Teheh I think if this post goes well i'll make a part 2. My inboxes are empty so... Reblogs r welcomed. Have a good whatever time.

[miveras]

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 | JJK

♡ preview: in which jungkook is a gentleman & he helps you get out of a situation.

♡ pairing: jungkook x reader

♡ genre: strangers to lovers, idk what this is honestly (i think i rushed it a little towards the end but its okay)

♡ wc: 6.8k

The wind brushes your hair to the side, and you tuck some loose strands behind your ears. You turn around with your eyebrows raised, pulling out your earphones to question whoever just tapped you on the shoulder. You had just stepped out of the store and with the receipt still in your hand, you wondered if you forgot to scan something in the self-checkout line. 

You’re met with an above average looking man near your age. He’s not much taller than you and he looks friendly– not a phrase you often think about a man. He’s wearing a plain, beige hoodie with black pants– a nice outfit, and pretty hair to top off his look. 

Though slightly mesmerized by his looks, you still gather your thoughts as you ask him what he wants from you. With an awkward smile, he glances around the parking lot first, then he leans closer to your ear.

“I think there’s someone following you,” he continues, “he’s been eyeing you for a while.” You hear the hesitation in his words– probably worried that you’d think of him weirdly for bothering you about it. 

Your lips part in shock, worriedness and fear visible on your face. You try your best not to make it obvious when you turn around, looking for who he was talking about. Once you landed on his familiar figure, your face contorts into a sour expression, remembering the previous interaction you had with him. 

He looked about your age, but it seemed like he had the mind of an old man. His eyes met yours as he started smiling widely– all full of himself, probably thinking that you wanted him too.

Great, you were so over everything at this point. All you wanted to do was visit the store and get all the essentials enough for weeks– so that you could avoid creeps. Thankful for his input, you give him a slight smile and explain what had happened before.

“Oh,” you sounded a bit appalled, “uhm.. He’s been staring since I was inside the store. I didn’t know he’d follow me out here too.” You were clearly unsure what to say or do– should you continue home and risk him following you? Or should you report him to someone first?

Earlier, you had already told the creep that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, obviously not thinking it through. Now, he probably thought this man in front of you was your boyfriend. He noticed how you bit your lip, feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know in case he actually tries doing something.”

“Yeah, thank you for that. I think I’m still gonna take the bus and head home, though. I’ll just hope he doesn’t find out where I live,” you chuckle, though it sounds fake. 

He nods, understanding that there really isn’t anything else to do. He feels a bit awkward telling you about him and not doing anything else to help. 

As you were about to walk away, he suddenly blurted out, “Do you want me to drive you?” He seems genuinely concerned knowing that you were taking the bus– meaning he could follow you and find out where you live easily. He just didn’t feel right not offering to be your personal driver, especially considering the circumstances.

It may sound strange but within the small time frame where you talked, you seemed oddly comfortable with him. So much that you even consider getting into the car with him, but even you know how absurd that sounds. But you weren’t stupid. Instead, you offer him a polite, ‘Thank you but no thanks,’ hoping he’d understand.

He does but he couldn’t help pestering you about it further. He offers to either drive you or buy an Uber for you instead of taking the bus. You only assure him that you’ll be fine after he keeps insisting, and you get ready to start heading home.

“Wait, can I have your number? I-I mean, for safety reasons of course, but only if you want to. I just want to make sure you get home safe and I’d feel extremely guilty knowing that I practically sent you home while he’s still here,” he rambles on. 

You found it quite amusing how sweet he was to you and you gladly gave him your digits. 

“My name’s Jungkook. What should I save you as?”

He notices the creep frown at you both, but you didn’t react.

“Y/N, and pretty name by the way,” you enjoy the way he blushes at the compliment, licking his lips as an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

You both save each other’s names and numbers. After the exchange, you slip the receipt you were still holding into your bag.

He watched you walk away towards the bus stop, still slightly worried about the situation. But in the end, he knew it wasn’t his business and drove home as well. He knew you just didn’t want to feel burdened over a mere stranger driving you or buying you an Uber. But he hoped that you knew he just wanted to keep you away from the creep.

You [04:56 pm]: hey, i just got home safe. u?

Jungkook [5:14 pm]: not yet, i'm out rn. he didn’t try following u, did he?

You [05:27 pm]: thank god, no. ty for worrying abt me jungkook. :)

You [05:28 pm]: get home safe

As you turn the corner from the library, you’re suddenly met with someone’s chest. You stumble back a bit and hold onto your textbooks tighter. Luckily, you don’t fall. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, you good?” he asks, straightening up. “Oh, Y/N?”

You look up at him, a bit shocked that you guys met again on campus. You didn’t even know he was in college. 

“Jungkook? What are you doing here– do you go here?” You had so many questions right now. It seemed weird how he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit shocked, as if he already knew. 

“Yeah, I do. But listen, Y/N– I have something to talk to you about.” He checked the time on his phone, and looked at you expectantly. It seemed pretty urgent and he didn’t have much time left to meet up with you for a little. 

You nod and decide to walk to the nearest boba shop. You were about to head here anyway for a little sweet treat– usually Matcha Bubble Tea. You order yours as well as Jungkook’s drink. Once you both take a seat, you wait for him to explain what’s gotten into him. This is only the second time meeting with him, and you have many questions. 

He starts, pushing the straw to puncture the lid, “He goes to our school.” He waits for your reaction, but your silence serves as encouragement for him to keep going. “The guy that was following you, I saw him in my frat.” 

“What? You knew him– why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You felt a bit betrayed, and so confused why he didn’t just say that. Did he play the hero just to get your number for his friend or something?

“No, no. I-I just found out recently. I mean, I already knew you went here since I’d seen you around before– in the library and in class.” You didn’t have time to process that he already knew you, and instead you focus on the other guy involved.

“When I saw him yesterday, I was gonna reach out to you when I had the time. It just so happens that you were in the library this morning,” he explains quickly.

Slurping your drink, you seem less worried and confused as he goes on. It was just a misunderstanding. But now you have to worry about the creep when you’re in school too. You roll your eyes and complain about how unlucky you are. 

He looks at you briefly before continuing, “He thinks we’re dating.” You give him a questioning look– somewhat asking why that matters. You already knew this sort of thing may happen, given that you did tell the guy your boyfriend was waiting for you, and out comes Jungkook at the perfect moment. 

You just didn’t know why it would matter. Did he have a girlfriend and he didn’t want her to misunderstand?

“What’s the problem? Did you want to clear things up with him?”

Honestly, you were more shocked that Jungkook wanted to tell him that you guys weren’t dating than him actually going to your school. In fact, you stopped caring as soon as his eyes started glowing from the sun rays coming from the window. 

If he had a girlfriend, you were so damn sorry for the way you are ogling him right now. You look away– flushed cheeks and everything, contemplating how pretty he looked underneath the light.

“Well.. he kind of told everybody. So I wanted to let you know before you hear from someone else. I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that,” he seemed rather sweet about it.

Aww, he wanted to get your approval first. You grin widely at him, so utterly infatuated with the thought of him caring for you– you’ve never taken a liking to someone so quick before. It’s not a crush, you convince yourself, it’s just been too long since someone took care of you. 

You immediately brush off your thoughts when you notice him staring at you with an awkward smile. You take another sip of your drink, almost forgetting that it was in front of you.

“Honestly, I don’t have a problem with it,” you remark, sending him a playful wink. You weren’t sure where you got this newfound confidence but you blamed it on Jungkook. He was too cute for you not to tease him.

You both exchanged classes, majors, and talked about your school lives– especially how crazy it was that you both hadn’t talked before despite having similar interests.

After a bit, he had to go since he’d made plans to go out with his friends. You could tell he was already late by the way he rushed out– almost forgetting his bag in the process. 

You stay behind, thinking about how much you wanted to learn more about him– his habits, hobbies, everything. You were excited to get to know him– a feeling you hadn’t felt in a while.

You see her the next morning in your Chemistry class.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” she shouts angrily, mostly from betrayal. She practically seethes smoke out of her ears, rushing close to you for answers. Your friend rages, “How come you didn’t come to me first?”

She speaks for both her and Jimin, your two best friends since high school. You understood their reaction since it was pretty abrupt and they never even heard you talk about Jungkook before. There was no doubt that the two of them felt ignored and hurt– this was the first time you hadn’t told them anything.

In fact, you knew that Jimin was probably blaming himself for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him. Instead of being irate with you like Lea clearly was, he felt it within– blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. 

You forgot about how they both would react to the rumors, and you forgot to settle them as quickly as possible. You regret your decision now that you’re faced with Lea turning her back towards you, huffing and puffing everytime she remembers you’re right next to her.

“Lea,” you whine, tapping on her shoulder, “they’re not true– the rumors aren’t.” 

She finally turns to you with a confused look on her face, trying to scan your’s to make sure you were telling the truth. When she finally figures it out, she asks for a detailed explanation on the situation.

“A guy spread a rumor about Jungkook and I but trust me when I say there’s nothing between us,” you weren’t completely telling the truth. You knew there was something but you refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t seem interested in you anyway. “We’re just friends.”

“Promise?” she extends her pinky out towards you hesitantly, wondering if you’d fess up or keep going. She wasn’t against you and Jungkook being together, but she didn’t want a relationship to get between you both. Lea would’ve been fine if you just told her about you and him, but the thought of you keeping it a secret from them sent her into a trance.

“Promise,” you interlock yours with hers tightly. 

She immediately beams at the contact, knowing that a pinky promise was sacred between the three of you. Nobody ever breaks a pinky promise without a good reason.

In a moment, Jungkook walks through the door and takes a seat beside you, glancing at your friend to familiarize himself with her. You make eye contact with her while she raises her eyebrows at you– questioning your motives with Jungkook despite the promise. He acknowledges your presence but he continues to do what he always does in class. 

You look over to him and he looks just as cute as ever– his hair messily plastered on his face, making you want to lean over and part his hair through the middle. He looks down at his computer, typing whatever the professor just said before looking up at the board again. 

He glances at you, feeling your stare, and he immediately starts blushing when he notices that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. 

You don’t notice Lea squinting her eyes at you both– trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Jungkook, is that your girlfriend?” he points at you accusingly. You assume that it’s one of Jungkook’s friends from his frat, one where everyone seemed to believe that you and Jungkook were dating. He wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you– happy that Jungkook found someone he liked.

“Uh, actually-” his voice trails off. Just as Jungkook was about to deny it, he caught a look at the doorway where the creep just so happened to stand.

“Yes, she is.” He makes eye contact with you, trying to send you a clue on why he said that. You catch the hint when you follow his gaze, immediately smiling at him to let him know that you understood.

Lea immediately turns her head, expecting a response from you.

You really had no problem people thinking you and Jungkook were in a relationship. In fact, you enjoyed it quite a bit– his flushed look and blushing cheeks whenever someone mentions him having a girlfriend. 

“Ohh, I thought so. You guys look good together– I was wondering when Jungkookie here would finally make a move. He’s been crushing on you for like the longest time-”

“Hyung! Stop it,” he interrupts. Embarrassed, he whispers something to his friend, playfully shoving him in the shoulder for exposing him. You hear him mutter, “I’ll talk to you later,” probably to tell him that we’re not actually dating. You make nothing of their interaction and instead, you just continue annotating and highlighting bullet points on your computer.

Once he leaves to go to his class, Lea whispers in your ear.

“So, your promise? Are you guys dating or not..” she seems genuinely confused. She trusted you and she knew that you weren’t lying, but part of her doubted you after Jungkook’s confession. 

Jungkook’s friend and the creep had already left to their designated classes, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. The doorway was pretty much empty, so you felt like you could tell Lea everything now.

“We’re not,” you continue, “He’s just helping me stay away from someone,” you turn back to gesture at Jungkook. “There’s a guy from his frat bothering me and he’s making sure that I feel safe.” 

Lea’s face turns to worry, asking you about the guy. She was concerned that he’d try doing something with you, and all her doubt went away as soon as you revealed that. She even thanked Jungkook for making you feel comfortable, apologizing to him for the death glares she kept sending his way. 

You catch her up on everything that happened, from the grocery store to the conversation you had with Jungkook. You told her that there was practically nothing between you and him, except for this uncomfortable situation. You both were fine with it for now, and it was only temporary– until he leaves you alone.

Jungkook [04:58 pm]: hi, are u busy tn?

You [05:07 pm]: no, why?

You were surprised to see his text since he wasn’t one to text first, especially without a reason to– leaving you wondering if it was something important. 

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: i wanted to ask if u wanted to go to a party w me

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: my friends kept asking why u weren’t coming & i panicked so i said u were

You [05:14 pm]: oh

Jungkook [5:15 pm]: i’m so sorry, u don’t have to come if u don’t want to

You [5:18 pm]:  i do :)

You can practically picture his smile behind the screen. You had nothing to do and the night would be so much better if you spent it with him. 

You [5:19 pm]:  pick me up @7pm?

Jungkook [5:21 pm]: sure, i’ll be there

He saves your address on his phone, doing it early so that nothing goes wrong when he comes to pick you up.

“Y/N, I’ll get you water” he offers, already walking somewhere. He took one good look at you and he already knew you had too much to drink. You were stumbling all over the place, clutching onto the hem of his hoodie as he led you to the kitchen.

“Careful,” he whispers, grabbing your arms gently to prevent you from falling. He fawns at your clumsiness, wishing that he saw this side of you more often. 

He immediately grabs the cup you’re holding, nearly empty, to stop you from drinking more. Letting you go for a bit, he walks away to the sink, pouring your drink, and heading to the fridge to get you water.

He hands you a bottle of water, then sits you on the counter– there were no nearby seats available and you looked like you were about to fall any second. You look so pretty right now, he thinks, looking down at you. Even on the counter, he’s still taller than you.

You feel delirious, eyes closing as you find yourself getting dizzy. You don’t even feel like yourself at this point– you were tired and you wanted to go home. You lean on Jungkook in front of you for support– not minding that you’re practically clutching onto him with your legs around his waist.

You were definitely not thinking about how silky his hair was and how much you wanted to run your hands through them. Or how drawn you are to his lips and literally everything about him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him. He was one hell of a man, and you couldn’t resist him standing in front of you.

His eyes seem connected to yours– both of you never blinking. He scans you from top to bottom, looking away once he realizes you staring at him back. He thought you’d find him weird or something like that.

You lay your hand on top of his on the counter– interlacing your fingers with one another. 

“Y/N..” he whispers.

His breath hitches as he notices you leaning closer. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t think like this– you’re drunk. But you look so beautiful right now, he was so entranced by your features he just had to give in.

“Wait, w-we shouldn’t. Not when you’re drunk,” he stutters. It doesn’t feel right– he feels as if he’s taking advantage of you in this state. He wanted you bad, but he couldn’t. 

Jungkook doesn’t know if you both are going too fast with this, especially since you just met recently. But he also doesn’t know how to stop the uncontrollable urge to kiss you– and he doesn’t care much anyway.

His nose brushes against yours– he closes his eyes, expecting to feel your lips against his. 

“What the fuck?” The door slams open and Jimin, your best friend, walks in unannounced. His face contorts to an upset expression, and he just stands by the doorway looking at you both. You assume that Lea already told him there was nothing between you guys– yet he just walked in on you two trying to kiss each other. 

Jungkook immediately steps back from you, his cheeks growing red by the minute. He pretends to be pouring another drink for himself, listening to your conversation with Jimin– which sounds more like a fight.

“You told Lea there was nothing between you guys! You know we’d be supportive if you’d just tell us the truth. Why did you have to lie,” he rambles.

“I didn’t! There’s nothing between us, i-it’s just-”

“Then why was he all up in your face? Why were you guys about to make out, hmm?” He mocks you both. Deep down, Jimin didn’t know why he was so angry– he assumed that you did lie to him but it wasn’t his business in the first place. He wasn’t sure why he was acting out, but just the thought of you lying to him and Lea set him off. He didn’t even notice that Jungkook was still in the room. 

“We aren’t dating,” you huff, trying to get Jimin to listen to you for a minute. You know he felt hurt that he wasn’t the first to know, and the fact that you “lied” to him made it worse. 

Once Jimin calms down and you explain everything to him like you did with Lea, he offers you a sympathetic glance. He doesn’t even mention what you and Jungkook were doing right before he walked in. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know what to say if he asked you again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N– for jumping into conclusions. I thought you lied to us,” he saddens. It was understandable for him to react this way, and you made sure to let him know that. 

Now, with all the tension in the air, you stand up awkwardly. It was time to head home now– after the mood was ruined unintentionally. 

“Uhm, J-Jungkook. Should we head home now?” you gesture to the time. You expected to leave much later, but after this, you couldn’t wait to curl up in your bed alone. He smiles at you, immediately grabbing his hoodie to head out. He says goodbye to a few of his fraternity brothers in the process– following right behind you and out the door.

The drive home was mainly silent since it just consisted of calm music and you sleeping peacefully.

He glances at you leaning your head against the window– head falling whenever there’s a bump or turn in the road. You look so peaceful right now– your soft features and delicate skin make him think you’re an angel. 

He finds himself drifting his eyes to you every few minutes, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and asleep. He wished he’d stored a blanket in his car for you earlier– so that you wouldn’t shiver even when the heater is on.

You turn, waking up because of the loud music blasting in your headphones. Once you turn it off, you drift to sleep for the rest of the drive, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t mind though– at least he has more time to admire you and stare without you noticing him. 

You don’t even react when he unbuckles your seatbelt for you when he pulls over in front of your house. He hated having to wake you up– but it turns out, he didn’t need to. You had just woken up in confusion, almost forgetting that you were at a party an hour ago. You only come to your senses when he opens the door right next to you, willfully grabbing your hand to lead you out.

“Hi,” he whispers when he sees you stirring, “we’re here.” 

Though you feel sober, you still have a dizzying headache pulsing through your veins and you still stumble your way through the path. 

“My keys.. are in my bag,” you say, shuffling through everything in frustration. You nearly drop your lip gloss on the ground– Jungkook catching it for you. You grow impatient as you lean on the door to hold you stable.

Jungkook leans in to do it for you. Immediately, he takes out your keys attached to a cute little cinnamoroll plushie and dangles it in front of you to ask if that was the right one. He turns the keys to unlock your door, pushing his way in for you. He was such a gentleman. 

“Do you need me to help you lay down or anything?” he sweetly asks. It’s times like these when you’re so appreciative of him– of meeting him. 

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ve ever met and you’re so lucky to have even come across him. It kind of makes you mad how easy it is to like him.

You nod, and he immediately closes and locks the door behind you. After telling him where your room was, he basically carried you there. You quickly change into your pajamas in the bathroom and when you come back, you find him staring at a picture of you and your old friends on the wall.

“What? Are you gonna make fun of my haircut?” you accuse playfully. You chuckle at his response, expecting him to comment at your horribly done makeup or your unbrushed hair in the photo.

“I just- well, you look so different here. When was this?” he pointed at you, Lea, and Jimin to your right in the photo.

“Three years ago.” You reminisce the memory of you and your friends having fun at the arcade, then taking pictures in the photo booth afterwards. You still cherish and hold that memory in your heart, one of the funnest days in your life. 

That was when you three were just getting close, and now you were closer than ever. 

Because you’re still drunk– your eyes start tearing up just a little, thinking about how much you love your friends. You become most emotional when you’re drunk, contemplating life and its pros and cons. 

He stares at you, reveling in your emotional state– he never gets to see you like this, all vulnerable. But now Jungkook feels like he invaded your space, and he thinks that it’s time to go. He was about to speak up but you beat him to it.

“Urgh,” you cover your mouth with your hand, fighting the urge to vomit. It must’ve been the alcohol, but right now, you just needed to rush to the bathroom. Jungkook follows right behind you– making sure that you’ll be okay for the night.

“I'm-” urghh, “so sorry Jungkook,” you manage to let out between your pukes. He holds your hair behind you, carefully bunching it up into a ponytail so you wouldn’t have to go to sleep in puke-covered hair. Truthfully, he didn’t care if you were throwing up in front of him– you were equally as attractive as ever.

After a bit, he settles you down on your bed. You’re completely knocked out, snoring to your heart’s content. The next morning, he’s out of sight when you wake up.

“Y/N,” she calls you firmly, “you know you can’t hide anything from us right?” 

She nudges at Jimin who was distracted by something on his phone– and only then does he agree. He didn’t seem interested much and continued to scroll without paying you much mind.

“Hide what?” you genuinely question, not thinking much of it. You had nothing to hide and you already told her everything before. You don’t understand why Lea suspected you– nothing ever happened between you and Jungkook.

“You like Jungkook, don’t you?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“What? No. What are you even talking about?” you were surprised at her sudden accusation. You were more surprised that she somewhat knew about your feelings– she figured you out so quickly. 

You never had time to sit down and think about what you felt for Jungkook. You didn’t know if you even liked him in the first place, but you knew you were attracted to him. Did it develop into a crush?

“You’re literally blushing, you like him,” she teases. Lea was angry at first that you didn’t tell her what was going on between you and Jungkook. She later figured out that you were just starting to figure out your feelings for each other– and now she was the biggest shipper.

You stay silent, a bit surprised but also because you are thinking about Jungkook.

You liked him. It’s been a while since you liked someone, and Jungkook was a good person. You liked him a lot. It’s crazy that you’re only realizing this now, even after you guys almost kissed. Although, you also weren’t sure what to do with the information– you were absolutely not going to say anything.

Wholeheartedly, you believed that your feelings would fade over time. You kind of had an inkling that Jungkook was interested, even just a little bit, but you didn’t want to act on it first. It was too scary to deal with these newfound feelings.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you genuinely like anyone for a long time. I think you should go for it,” she says in a soft tone– opposite from how she talked to you when she first found out about you and Jungkook. 

It was your birthday today. You don’t normally celebrate it and if you do, it’d just be with a couple of friends and a cake. You weren’t one to initiate plans though, so now you’re stuck in the library studying. 

You carefully sort your papers in piles to review and those you’ve already read over. You recite the topics over and over– from equilibrium equations to molecular structures. Chemistry was about to be the cause of your death and you know it. It’s insane how many concepts and rules you had to remember.

Sighing, you opt for a small break in order to use the restroom and finish your acai bowl. As soon as you finish the last bite, you leave your stuff in the study room and head out to use the bathroom. 

When you come back, you see someone approaching you hastily, flashing a smile at you. It was a guy– the same guy you saw in the store. The same one you were trying to avoid. You were quick to react, already turning your head to refuse eye contact, hoping that he’d get the hint. But of course he doesn’t.

“Hey! Hey, wait up! I’m talking to you, man, wait-” he runs to you, catching his breath. He grabs your shoulder to turn you around, not even caring about you trying to slip away. You knew he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still weird how persistent he was being, even when you had already rejected him inside the store before you even met Jungkook.

He licks his lips, clearly a bit agitated that he had to chase you down to get you to pay attention. He runs his hand through his greasy hair before placing them both in his pockets. He had this creepy smirk on his face– making you wonder what he has to say next. 

“You’re cute. What’s your number again? And don’t say no this time,” he says jokingly. He presses you to answer him by coming closer to you. He seems oddly bold for someone who’s already been rejected before. You wished that he’d just leave you alone. 

He doesn’t seem to understand what no means and it was painfully obvious. 

“No,” you answer firmly, “I already said no before.” You try your best not to sound scared despite the shakiness behind your voice. He was way too close now– trying to intimidate you with his height. 

You look down, knowing that his facial expression turned serious. He’s angry, you think, and it makes you more nervous than you intend. His eyes narrow at you, wondering if you’re joking or not– his ego is so big he can’t even fathom your rejection. 

As he opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it by pushing him away harshly. He almost meets the ground out of impact, surprised that you would respond with physical intrications.

Quickly, you gathered all your stuff– which you thankfully already organized before your break and stuffed it into the backpack. Zipping it up, you make sure nothing is left behind. You head out to the opposite exit from where you both met without looking back.

Later, you check your messages after taking a nap. You were surprised to see over four new texts and three missed calls, most from someone you didn’t know.

Unknown [07:14 pm]: You really think you’re all that, huh?

Unknown [07:15 pm]: Bitch

Unknown [07:37 pm]: Answer me

Jungkook [08:02 pm]: hey, you awake?

It didn’t take long for you to know who it was, and you ultimately just chose to block the unknown number. You hoped that he wouldn’t continue to bother you anymore. Instead, you replied to Jungkook and apologized for not responding sooner.

“Yeah, that bitch is in love with me,” he hangs his head back to laugh. He licks his lips, feeling like he’s the man for having an admirer. He dabs up one of his friends, hands sliding against each other’s in the process.

Jungkook didn’t mean to overhear– he was just passing by and happened to eavesdrop in their conversation. He didn’t expect to hear them talking about someone he knew, especially about someone he cared about. 

When he heard your name, he immediately started listening closer. He knows it’s not good news if the person that was being creepy to you was talking about you.

“Man, I didn’t know Y/N was such a slut,” he hits his other friend in the arm jokingly. He grins stupidly and shakes his head, imagining you flirting with lots of guys. His friend told him that you were in love with him, evidently by the way you apparently clutched onto him during the party. He rambled on about how clingy you were and how much you liked him– confessing to him every time you saw him. It was clear that those were all lies, but his friends believed him anyway.

Jungkook was beyond angry. It was ridiculous how they made up rumors about you– and the guy’s friends believed it wholeheartedly too without even questioning it. He thinks about how they are treating you, speaking so loud and not even caring who hears about it.

He walks to his locker to have a reason to stay there for longer. He justifies it as wanting to know what they say about you and that he wouldn’t say anything about it. As his fists close in frustration, he thinks about his promise to himself to walk away and ignore them. But he couldn’t. After he heard them talking about how easy you were, he couldn’t help it.

His right fist hits the guy right in the jaw, knocking him out in just one blow. His friend only stares in shock, not having the guts to fight back for his friend.

“What the fuck?” the guy on the ground cracks his neck. He immediately stands back up, having the intention to return the favor to Jungkook. His friend holds him back by the arms, not letting him go.

As the situation dissipates, Jungkook chooses to just walk away. He doesn’t want to cause more problems, and he definitely doesn’t want you to know about this. Knowing you, you’d scold him and wouldn’t let him get away with it. He just knows that he won’t tell you what they said– and he won’t let you be all sad over it if you find out.

Ignoring the whimpers and yells behind him, along with the stares he was getting across the hall, he scurries to his next class– not caring about his reddened knuckles. He doesn’t even care about what he did because he did not regret it. You were his biggest concern right now.

You were confused and restless after hearing your friend, Lea, tell you about Jungkook’s incident with a boy from school. You only found out about it later that afternoon, and you didn’t even know what the fight was about. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was about you– especially since that’s the only thing you could link the creeper with. 

But, why would he start a fight for you in the first place? What happened that made him feel the need to do something? You were confused and you needed answers.

You bite your lip in nervousness of Jungkook possibly getting into a fight because of you. You felt guilty about it– especially since the rumors were practically everywhere. 

After a while of slouching around your couch with a blanket over you, you decided to do something about it. You put on a black hoodie and texted him to meet up.

You waited at the nearest playground where you sat and swung yourself back and forth, keeping your eyes locked on the mural in front. You shift your eyes from the painted soccer ball to the figures in the painting. You think the little kid in the painting kind of resembled Jungkook– with his coconut hairstyle and all. 

“Hey,” he taps you on the shoulder, making you flashback to when you guys first met. You were a bit startled, almost forgetting about you calling him. He looks around awkwardly before sitting down on the swing next to you. 

“Hi,” you weren’t sure how to start. You were the one to call him, yet you waited for him to talk first. You wonder if you were crossing a line– it isn’t his responsibility to tell you anything. Were you too nosy? You were suddenly doubting yourself and even considered just telling him nevermind and going home.

“Y/N, is this about what happened earlier today?” he glanced at you expectantly, knowing immediately what you called him for. 

Your mouth slightly gapes, shocked that he’s already figured you out. You nod in response, looking down to the floor where your feet scrape the ground.

“I mean, what happened? I-I was just curious.”

“Well, you called me like it was an emergency,” he had a smug grin on his face, “Were you worried about me hmm?”

You scoffed, denying him as soon as he said that. You shake your head and narrow your eyes at him, turning around when you feel yourself smiling. He laughs at your cute reaction and reaches in to brush your hair away from your face. You blush even more when you feel his fingertips tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

Suddenly, he seems more nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He clears his throat, “I-I like you, Y/N.” He licks his lips, waiting for your reaction.

For the second time today, you were shocked. First of all, you were definitely not expecting him to blurt it out just like that. You seriously contemplated leaving right then and there out of pure surprise, but you knew you couldn’t leave him hanging like that. You would regret it if you didn’t have time to share your feelings for him like he has for you.

You responded by grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips. It took a bit for him to finally comprehend that you were actually kissing him, but it was obvious he enjoyed it.

“I like you too, Jungkook,” you giggle, happy that he reciprocated your feelings. He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he was ready for it. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks and ears, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling. He was too cute.

When you stopped smothering each other with kisses, you just stared in each other’s eyes for a while before heading home together.

© miveras (if you reach this part, tysm for supporting my work!)

[marieracingteam]

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | more

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch. 

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her. 

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls. 

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

[dudeitiskarev]

Maybe Someday | Ch. 8

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: feelings come to light and neither knows how to handle it.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags/warnings: mention of reader’s abortion, regrets, love confession *gasps*

Author’s note: this part was so a bit tedious to finish because they just didn’t want to talk about their almost kiss and nothing felt right. I had to grab them each by their ear and sit them in a room and force them to talk 🤭

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SPENCER MASTERLIST

You’d come to his place to address the big elephant in the room. Instead, you got slapped in the face with memories. 

Henry was the kid that was born the day you had an abortion. He was a beautiful and kind little human who managed to turn your very exhausting day into a lightweight. 

When you held him, he’d caressed your cheeks and nose with his tiny fingers. It helped him fall asleep and you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would be like right now if you hadn’t gone through with the procedure (what would make your baby fall asleep so soundly).

You wouldn’t have Spencer, that’s for sure. Which was enough reason to know it was the right choice. But you wondered, how much you wondered... 

The front door opened and you jumped, trying your best to gather yourself before Spencer made it next to you.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down. “You okay?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I miss Henry already,” You said through a small laugh.

You missed your baby. What could’ve been. What could still be.

“Yeah, he has that effect on people as soon as he leaves,” Spencer gave you a lopsided smile. 

You’d healed since then but that didn’t mean you’d ever forget and you had too many emotions playing with your body right now. Your throat was too tight to even swallow properly. 

You cleared your throat. “I think I’m gonna go now.” You stood up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants and reaching for your purse.

Spencer mirrored you and stood in your way. “Sorry, I didn’t think of it when you said you wanted to go.” He gulped with guilt. “Henry triggered memories, didn’t he?”

You smiled. Of course, he’d noticed. 

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” He raised his brows. “I insisted you’d come in.”

“No, I should’ve called before showing up. I just wanted to ta—“You bit your tongue right away and looked away “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Talk about what?” He searched for your eyes.

You took a deep breath, raising your brows. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“You can talk to me, you know?”

No man has ever been so soft-spoken to you about everything, always, all the time. You wished he had the power to make himself tiny so you could put him inside your pocket and carry him with you forever. 

“I know, but… you haven’t mentioned it so I don’t think I should either.”

Spencer stared and his chest rose as he took a deep breath. “Is it about how we almost kissed?”

He’d probably been thinking about it more than you. 

You huff a small embarrassed laugh, raising your brows. “About that day, yes.” Spencer didn’t respond, giving you the window to talk about what’s been keeping you up at night these past two weeks. “I… I got very emotional,” you began, moving your hands and using them as a second language in case words turned blurry. “You made me very emotional by showing up out of nowhere with perfect gifts and perfect things to say and I guess I got carried away with my feelings.” You brought one palm to your chest. “Not that I didn’t mean what I said but after, what happened after is what”—you chuckled at the memories that were still so damn vivid—“I cried and we hugged very closely and—“ you clasped them together. This was going terribly already. “I think it made things awkward between us. I mean, we barely talked for like two weeks and now I’m making it more awkward but… I needed to address it.”

You ended up so out of breath you were lightheaded. But you didn’t sit down. You wanted to run. Disappear. Become dust. But he was still in your way. 

“Yeah.” Spencer raised his brows, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I got carried away too?” He gulped and his voice slowly faded as he added, “Not that I didn’t mean any of it either.” 

You took a step closer and placed your palm over his upper arm. “You’re my best friend, Spencer.”

His arm twitched at your touch and his gaze softened, his brows pinched together ever so slightly and his honey-sweet voice came out so pained it began to shatter the ice surrounding—protecting—your heart as he said, “I don’t want you like a best friend.” 

Oh, this was not how it was supposed to go. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, taking a step back and saying the first thing that came to your mind. “You’re… you’re getting the wrong message.”

“Am I?” He took half a step closer.

He was making it so hard. To stay put. Stay away. And right now, more than ever, a strong warmth welled in your chest. 

“I would’ve kissed you if Noah hadn’t shown up,” he said. “And I know you would’ve kissed me, too.”

Something inside you cracked. It was the ice around your heart melting. 

“We would’ve kissed.” He lifted his hand and caressed your cheek with the back of his curled fingers.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean… anything.” You shut your eyes in an attempt to dodge his touch.

It was getting so, so warm inside you.

“It does to me,” he replied.

So warm.

“I’m in love with you,” he bluntly confessed, raw and straightforward. 

Your breath hitched and the air in your lungs was gone. The man you loved, loved you back. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

So, so, so incredibly warm.

“I love you,” Spencer said. “I know you. I know who you are, and I love you. Just like that. I love you.”

You opened your eyes and caught the plea in his eyes. 

“Say you don’t love me and I promise you”—he begged, cradling your face with both hands—“I’ll try my hardest to make it go away if that’s what you want. Just say you don’t love me back and I’ll… make it  stop.” You couldn’t move or breathe or talk or do anything at all. It sounded like a prayer. Like he was talking to an all-powerful being, begging for an answer. “I know you have feelings for me too. I know you do, you wouldn’t have said all those beautiful things if you didn’t.”

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrists to tear yourself off his touch. But you stayed there, hands clutching. “I’m not good for you.” Your voice barely came out. 

“Don’t… say that.”

“I have nothing to offer, Spencer I… you deserve someone that—”

His eyes darkened and his tone changed as he said, “Why won’t you let me in?” 

Because the last time you did—letting in a man by saying ‘I love you’—he got you pregnant then left you. You’d realized soon after that it was attachment disguised as love. And deep down you feared this might be it, again. 

“I need… a moment.” You let go of his touch and walked past him on your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” He walked behind you. 

“Home.” You turned the knob and opened it. “I… I need to think, Spencer.”

“No!” He slammed the door shut with his whole palm. “Just talk to me, damn it!”

You flinched by instinct, but even his loud voice was filled with care. 

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he brought one hand to his mouth. “I don’t know what—“

“What do you want me to say?!” You matched his tone. It was all about to come out now. It was brewing within you. The love. “That I love you too?! That it terrifies me to love you this much.” You closed the gap between you two and pointed a finger at yourself. “Good things don’t happen to me. And you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to do anything different because I want to keep you in my life. Like this. This far away. Forever.”

Spencer held your face tenderly and scanned your probably wrecked features. “You don’t have to do anything.” He begged. “You don’t have to do anything differently at all. Please.”

The hurt in his tone was like a ton of needles wanting to get through you. 

“I’m scared,” You murmured. “What if—

His forehead was glued to yours now. “I won’t go anywhere. And I won’t let you go away ever again. Just… let me in and we’ll figure it all out together. Just don’t walk away. Don’t leave me. Please,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

He sounded so scared. All you could do was nod with guilt, licking your lips. “I won’t. I promise.”

He then fell silent. Only your shaky breaths separated you. Your foreheads glued together, his hands cradling your entire head, almost, and your hands clutching his waist. Hearts beating for each other. 

He’d said he loved you and you admitted loving him back, and neither was doing anything about it. 

“I… I still have to go home,” you broke the silence.

“I know.” His lips were hovering over yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he added, “Just let me… have you this close a little longer. Let me—“

He cut himself off by leaning. His lips grazed yours ever so slightly yet he didn’t kiss you, as if there was a magnetic force keeping your lips from touching properly. 

“Spencer,” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Just kiss me already.” 

“I’m trying I—“

You yanked him by the nape of his neck and pressed your lips together. It was harsh, but he was taking too long. His hands traveled down your sides to your waist and pulled you closer into a tight hug as the kiss slowly became a real one. 

He let out a dark sound as he parted his lips, changing the pace. Took charge and the earth stopped spinning. This was your only world right now, in his arms and his lips and his hands burying into your body. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes as if you couldn’t be any closer. You wanted him closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin. Be a part of him and let him have you whole. 

He abruptly pulled away to catch some air, panting against your lips. 

“I need— I’m getting too eager, hold on.” He pressed his forehead with yours again.

You swallowed, trying to regulate your breathing but your thoughts came out loud. “God, Spencer. I didn’t think you’d be such a good kisser.”

You were still levitating.

“Uh, thank you?” He sort of laughed.

“Would you kiss me again?” You asked, searching for his eyes but he had them shut tight. You missed his lips already. You needed to keep kissing him until it all became real.

“Right now?” His voice came out slightly high-pitched. 

“Or in a billion years. I can wait.”

You’ll wait for him forever and would relive your life a thousand times if it meant you’ll have this again. 

He laughed a little. “You don’t have to wait that long.” 

YAYYYYYYYY they finally stopped being so stupid 🤭

From now on everything is even more fast paced. There’s only 2 chapters left 💖

Thank you to everyone who’s been following this little story so far. I see you and I appreciate you all so very much 🥹🫶💖

[midastouch-zaza]

You wake up to see your girlfriend Chaeyeon cooking breakfast in the kitchen in nothing but her panties and your t-shirt from last night. You go up to her and start groping her tits and ass and planting kisses all over her neck, which she accepts with sweet moans. However, Chaeyeon suddenly appears behind you and you realize you’ve been groping her sister Chaeryeong this entire time.

[Honestly I had two requests with the Chae sisters, but I was in the mood for this one. However I will write the other one too, because, once again, it's such a nice plot]

You love Chaeyeon, with all your heart, but it was so tough to be her boyfriend during her promotion days with Iz*One, you had so little time to see each other, and even less to have a proper fuck.

You couldn't be too rough or mark her, she would have not had the time to recover, so secretly you were kinda happy when her contract finished and she started promoting as soloists. Now you have way more time to fuck as rabbits.

At your home, at her house, even at her parents house, just like last night. You clearly remember how much you made her moan just few hours earlier, fucking her until her legs were trembling. Too bad she was not next to you when you woke up.

You wonder where she was, but smelling the sweet perfume of something getting baked in the kitchen and hearing someone softly humming in the same kitchen, you immediately solved the mistery. So you got up to reach her.

She was so hot: her hair covering just part of her sexy back, your t-shirt hugging her skin, her fat ass barely covered by her panty, making that cheeks jiggle while she was busy cooking. You couldn't resist.

You silently sneaked inside that loose shirt your hands, groping her perky tits. You rubbed your morning wood against her booty, while leaving soft kisses all over her neck. The poor girl could only moan in response to that type of good morning.

No, actually, she gave you another type of response: she pushed her hips back, pressing her ass against your hard-on. She was really liking those morning attentions and you were about to give her more.

You pulled down her panty, aligned your tip with her entrance and... "What the fuck do you think you're doing?", a familiar voice shouted behind you. You turned your head, already thinking about what excuse tell to your girlfriend mother.

For sure you didn't expect that the voice was hers. "Chaeyeon?", you asked, more confused to her. "Yeah, motherfucker, it's me", she stomped till your position. You looked back, just to meet Chaeryoung needy and lustful eyes.

No way you got them confused, but fuck if they were the same from behind, especially now that both had their natural hair color. "Chae, wait...I can explain", you tried to calm her down, but she was furious.

"I don't give a shit about your reasons!", she shouted again; it was a matter of time before she would start to slap you. However someone avoided that. "Sis, I know you're mad...but let him fuck me. I really need a stress reliever after finishing the world tour", Chaeryoung begged her older sister, biting her lip and already leaking juices from her pussy.

"Oh, for fuck sake...fine! But be quick, asshole", she accepted, rolling her eyes back in annoyance, before basically pushing you forward enough to make you penetrate her little sister with your hard cock.

"So freaking big", Chaery moaned, feeling your girth stretching her hole suddendly. She was so tight, she was already clenching around your cock. She really needed that fuck, so you couldn't refuse to satisfy her.

You were roughly fucking Chaer pussy against the stove, when you catched up your gf expression: she was still mad, but you could tell she was getting excited, probably reliving the memory from the last night.

It was your occasion to save yourself from her anger, so you pulled her in a kiss out of nowhere. Initially she tried to push back, but after few moments she melted against your lips, maybe because in the meanwhile your fingers started to play with her pussy.

It would have been kinda a romantic scene if it was not for her little sister obscene moans. "Fucking hell, this dick is driving me crazy", she mumbled, drooling, while her pussy was being completely ravaged.

When Chaeyeon parted her lips from yours her expression was completely different: she had puppy eyes and a tender smile. "Please fill my baby sister well", she requested you, caressing your heavy balls.

That was enough to make you burst, shooting so much cum inside the Itzy member that when you pulled out, it immediately started to go down her thighs. "You have not finished yet", Chaeyeon took your attention, going to lay on the kitchen table with her legs open.

"It's my turn now, daddy", she purred, biting her tongue. Age was not really a thing between you two, but she knew that word really could bring out the beast inside you. And this time worked too.

You grabbed her legs, using them as leverage to thrust inside her pussy. Your cock was still dirty of your own cum and Chaeyoung juices when you started to pound inside her warm pussy. It didn't matter how many times you fucked her, that hole seemed created just for your shaft.

"That's it, Daddy, give me the bis of yesterday", she said, breathing with fatigue because of the strenght of your thrust, removing all the oxygen from her chest. "I swear I can't be mad with that huge cock of yours", she confessed, while her tits were jiggling with her body being used so roughly.

"Fill me too, Daddy, I'm craving your warm load so badly", she begged, spasming on the table; now at every thrusts, you were hitting always a deeper spot, making her breath hitch. Now it was her turn to pull you in a passionate kiss, putting her legs around your waist.

"Cum, cum, Daddy, cum inside me", she repeated against your lips, making your hips gain speed until you reached your climax again, filling your girlfriend with your sticky seed, directed to her womb.

You seated on a chair, closing your eyes and catching your breath. After two rounds so intense, you needed a pause so bad, but the two sisters didn't agree with you. You opened your eyes wide, feeling a couple of tongue licking your dick.

"Let us help you to get clean, Daddy", Chaeyeon told you, already working on your member. "Yes, daddy, allow us to clean this great cock", Chaeyoung echoed, moving her tongue with a slow movement from the base to the tip.

You couldn't believe to have these gorgeous sisters, almost naked and on the their, whorshipping your cock, while their used pussy were leaking your cum on the pavement.

It was too much for your brain, both the visual and the feeling touch was too difficult to handle. You tried to resist as long as you can, but in the hand you couldn't help to cover with your white semen the faces of these two sluts, now calling you Daddy and sucking your balls.

[missterious-figure]

Okay okay!!! I’m infected with baby fever and want to spread it on!

What if y/n had a little baby, and had to bring them to work. How would the boys react? I have images of them preening the baby, picking at their clothes and getting downright aggressive if someone tries to take them away. Like y/n and baby in a nest of pillows and blankets while the three birds boys hiss and spread out their tail feathers to intimated the poor workers just trying to check up on the mother and child.

That’s all from me! Have a fantastic day or night!!!

You sat there. All surrounded by piles of pillows a shed feathers. You were holding your precious little Joy. Your baby girl. She was giggling at the three ginormous peacock harpies as they cooed to her, their tails all spread wide. Their tails effectively made a wall preventing on seers to even catch a glimpse of you and your baby. And you couldn't see anything past them. The worst part about all this? They hadn't cornered you in their rooms. No, they had brought all the pillows from their private rooms all the way to the garden of the casino. Then they had picked you up and stuffed you and Joy into their makeshift nest. As you sat there annoyed, Sun suddenly grabbed your attention.

"Oh, please, can I hold her?? I'll be super gentle!! I promise!!"

He had his hands held out, ready to snatch up Joy at a moments notice. Sun, Moon and Eclipse had been begging you to hold your baby the whole time you had been put in the nest. Moon shoved Sun back.

"No!! Let me be the first to hold them! She wants more me anyway!!"

Eclipse pushed past Moon.

"Now, now, little boys! Let me hold her, I'm the most responsible after all."

You were sick of their badgering, you were a little worried. You wanted to let them hold her, but you were afraid that they would wrestle over her. Or wouldn't give her back. Reluctantly, you held her out to Eclipse. All three of the peacock harpies went utterly silent. The way Eclipse picked her up was probably the most adorable thing you've ever seen him do. He reached out so slowly, scared even the slightest touch could shatter Joy's small body into bits. Cupping his hands under her, he gently lifted her from your trembling hands. He pressed her to his chest and began to sway back and forth.

Moon and Sun looked equally jealous, but then they turned to you. Sun snuggled up in the nest on your right, Moon flanked you on your left.

"You must be exhausted from caring for Joy all the time! Let us care for you now!"

Both brothers wrapped you in their arms and started to massage you, tending to your shoulders and back. Your face had gone beet red in only a few seconds. The two harpies on your sides where whispering sweet nothings into your ears, and the one standing in front of you was cradling your baby in his massive arms. Everything was chaotic, yet peaceful somehow. You knew Joy was safe with Eclipse. You knew a three harpies would do anything to keep you and your baby safe. You had started to close your eyes, when one of the to brothers clinging to you stopped moving.

"Excuse me, I was just coming over to check on you and your baby."

You knew the voice was addressing you. You opened an eye to see one of your fellow staff members, a man, sheepishly grinning at the three towering harpies. Sun, Moon and Eclipse were giving him death stares, their feathers puffing up in aggression. Eclipse turned to him, looking down his nose at the poor guy.

"They're fine. Best get going."

Moon had let go of you and was already getting up. Sun was pressing you closer to himself, feathers bristling angrily.

"Sorry, but I was given instructions to ask them that."

He pointed to you. That was the wrong answer, apparently, as Moon growled and bounded towards him. The man yelped, turned tail, and ran for dear life. Moon chased him about, purposely keeping pace with the guy. His feathers were all ruffled, his tail folded back. You could tell he wasn't seriously going to hurt the dude, but you felt bad.

"Moonie, come back!"

Moon perked up immediately at your voice. He came to abrupt stop. He snarled one last time at the out of breath man, and strutted back over to you. He most be so proud of chasing off the "threat". He found his comfortable place next to you, his chin up with a smug little smile on his face. You giggled quietly. You looked at each of the three harpies. Eclipse was humming to the now asleep Joy he was carrying, Sun was tenderly clutching you close, and Moon was still so happy with himself. These little goobs. Such funny boys.

[calaisreno]

Under the Weather

There are days when everything goes wrong. I don't mind, as long as you're with me.

1731 words / Prompt: Weather

When John pushes the door open, he’s hit with a Baltic blast of air from within. This is surprising; it’s a cold day, but generally 221B is a bit warmer than outdoors. 

“What’s going on?” he asks the bundle of blankets on the sofa. 

“Not much,” Sherlock replies. “Lestrade called with a case. I solved it over the phone.”

John lets out a sigh; it becomes a small, vaporous cloud. “I mean, why is it so cold in here?”

“The temperature outdoors is minus seven degrees. In here, it is four degrees above zero. Eleven degrees warmer. You ought to be asking me, why is it so warm in here?”

“I mean,” John says, keeping his jacket buttoned and sinking into his chair, “Why is it bloody four degrees inside our flat?”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say that? The boiler’s broken.”

“Have you rung someone?”

The blanket bundle sighs. “Mrs Hudson is away, visiting her sister.” He’s using his patient voice, which means that John is going to have to shout if he wants an explanation. “I don’t know how to fix a boiler, and there’s no service tag on it, so I don’t know who to call.”

“You might have looked in the phone book. They do list people who fix boilers, you know.”

Sherlock waves a hand dismissively. The hand is wearing a purple mitten, which probably came from Mrs Hudson’s knitting basket. “This is 2010. Who uses phone books these days?”

“Maybe the internet knows who fixes boilers?”

Sherlock wags mittened hands at him. “Fingers frozen. Can’t type.”

“And all day you’ve been waiting here for me to come home and save you from freezing to death?”

The pile of blankets mumbles. 

“What?”

“I said, you’re better at dealing with boilers.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to call someone to fix a boiler, Sherlock.”

“Exactly.” A pair of grey eyes and a pink nose peep out of the blankets. “The electricity still works. Can you make tea? That might thaw my fingers.”

Cursing softly to himself, John fills the kettle. At least the pipes haven’t frozen, though that might be next. He sets it on the base, and flicks it on. The light remains unlit. “What did you do to the kettle?”

“Oh, erm. Why do you ask?”

“It’s not working.”

“It is a very old kettle. They don’t last forever, you know.”

“Oi!” He holds up the base. “Why is the cord no longer connected to the base?”

More mumbling. He catches the word experiment and something about microwave not working either…

Cursing a bit louder, John opens his laptop and searches for someone who will repair a boiler. He casts an evil look at the sofa as he dials the first one he finds. 

A minute later he ends the call. “It’s after hours,” he announces. “And the weekend is just starting. I left a message.”

He tries three more numbers, then five more, leaving increasingly desperate messages. 

For a moment he sits, eyes closed, and contemplates the long, cold weekend that lies ahead. Maybe the telly works, at least. He takes the remote and presses the power button. 

“Cable’s out too,” Sherlock’s voice says. He still in his blanket pod, but knows John well enough to anticipate his thought process. “Ice on the lines.”

“Well,” John says. It’s all fine for Sherlock, who is in a cocoon, unaffected by the weather inside the flat. “I’ll be upstairs putting on my arctic gear.”

“I’ll call for takeaway,” Sherlock says.

John’s room is even colder than downstairs. This is mainly because water has been leaking through a hole in his ceiling. The hole is a surprise, an unhappy one. Not big enough to see sky, but enough to let water in. This morning, before it started to rain and the temperature began to drop, followed by ice and snow, the ceiling was intact. His room was nice and warm—and dry. 

There’s no way he can blame Sherlock for the age of the roof, the weather’s bad timing, or the bad luck that hovers over John like a small, dark cloud.

He curses loudly as he opens drawers, hunting for his long johns and wool socks. Finding them, he sits on the bed and curses again as water soaks into his pants.

“Bloody buggering hell! What did I do to deserve this!” 

The fates have no answer for this.

Finally, having discarded his wet pants, donned his long johns, wool socks, a pair of corduroy trousers that fit over the long johns, a polo neck pullover, and the warmest jumper in his drawer, he heads down the stairs, cursing at a volume loud enough for the other resident of the flat to hear.

The sitting room is silent, the lump on the sofa unmoving. 

“There’s a hole in the roof!” he announces. “My bed is soaked through.”

“We could make a fire in the hearth,” Sherlock suggests. He’s poking his head out now, looking like a curly-headed turtle. 

“By we, I assume you mean me.” John grabs the blanket off the back of his chair and wraps it around his shoulders before sinking into the chair. “Do we have any firewood?”

“A relevant question.”

“Look, I won’t mind burning some of your books if it’ll keep me warm.”

“My books are valuable. You might try burning some of those idiotic spy novels you read. But there’s some firewood downstairs, by the back door. I’m sure Mrs Hudson won’t mind us using it. Better than coming home and finding our stiff, dead corpses—”

“Let’s not talk about corpses right now.” Not while I’m thinking about killing you. “Did you order some food, I hope?”

“Angelo’s is closed, due to weather. I ordered Chinese.”

 “Thank god.” John leans back in his chair. Every muscle in his back is tight from a very long day, and he’s shivering hard, wishing for a cup of tea. 

He hears movement from the sofa and opens his eyes. Sherlock stands, shedding his blankets. He’s dressed in a pair of John’s tracksuit bottoms, John’s Christmas jumper, and wool socks that look suspiciously like they came out of John’s sock drawer. 

He’s glaring down at John with concern (if such a thing is possible). “Stop shivering.”

“Involuntary response,” he replies, teeth chattering. “That’s my jumper you’re wearing.”

“I didn’t have anything warm enough.”

“You made fun of that jumper at our Christmas drinks thing.”

“Well, it’s more appropriate now, isn’t it?” He arranges one of his blankets around John, tucking him into his chair. Then he strides out the door. 

When he returns with a bundle of firewood, John is reflecting that there won’t even be hot water. No bath to warm him up. Just Chinese food and blankets.

The fire is looking somewhat robust by the time the doorbell rings. 

The Chinese food helps, though it’s been in transit long enough that it’s not very hot. Sherlock apologises for the tea kettle. And the microwave. When they’ve eaten, he collects the empty cartons and takes the leftovers into the kitchen. 

“Fridge still works,” he calls out. “Just warning you, though. It will probably stop when the indoor temperature drops below freezing.”

“Look on the bright side,” John replies. “We’ll be stiff, dead, corpses by then. Beyond caring about milk for the tea we can’t make.”

Sherlock comes back with a bottle and two glasses. “Here’s something to warm us up.”

He hands John a glass and pours. “Happy anniversary, John.”

John laughs. “Right. One year living at 221B. I didn’t expect you’d care about things like that.”

“Why not? One year is the longest I’ve managed to cohabit with anyone. It’s been… good.” He sits down, his face pink in the firelight.

“It has been good,” John admits. He remembers the first time he came through the door, saw Sherlock’s clutter, and wondered what he was getting himself into. He remembers carefully probing, trying to determine whether Sherlock might be interested…

Well, nothing ever goes to plan. That’s the story of John’s life.

He leans back, all the weariness of the day dragging his eyelids down. 

“John, wake up.”

“Mm?” He sighs and opens his eyes. 

Sherlock is standing over him. “You can’t sleep in your chair. In the morning your neck will hurt.”

“True, but my bed has become an ice floe.”

“Sleep in my bed.”

“What? Oh, you’ll take the sofa.”

Sherlock shakes his head. “Self-preservation, John. Body heat.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We must sleep together.”

“Together?”

“It’s the only way.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

“Science, John. If your core temperature drops too low, you die. And all the firewood is gone, so we have to improvise.”

Improvise, indeed. The bedroom is colder than the sitting room, but the bed is large and, more importantly, not a frozen slab of ice. Keeping their clothes on, they crawl under the covers and move towards one another. Sherlock’s arms go around him, and John lays his head against Sherlock’s chest. 

It feels like something they do all the time. Or something they should have done months ago. 

John shivers a bit, not from the cold. Sherlock smells like kung pao chicken and expensive scotch. 

“Skin-to-skin might be warmer,” Sherlock says. “We shouldn’t take chances.”

John giggles. “Is the boiler really broken?”

“Of course. Did you think I was only trying to get you into my bed?”

“Sherlock.” He feels Sherlock’s nose with his own. It’s like an icicle. “You could have had me in your bed a long time ago, if that’s what you wanted.”

Sherlock is silent. He buries his face in John’s shoulder. “Really?”

“I didn’t think you wanted that.”

“Neither did I.”

“Do you?”

“Everything went wrong today,” he whispers. “And then you came home.”

“This was an especially bad day.” John snuggles into him. “The surgery was full of snotty kids and over-protective parents. Nothing interesting, just mucus and vomit. I didn’t get any lunch. The bus was late. And when I came home, it was freezing. But you were here.”

“John.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind all the things that are wrong, as long as you’re with me.”

“Not that I want more misery, but…” John kisses his nose. “You’re the one I want to share it with.”

Sherlock kisses John’s nose, then his lips, lingering. “Let’s get these clothes off before we freeze to death.”

[pumpkinbxtch]

heyyyyyy Idk if you're still accepting requests for apollo if not that's fine BUTTTTTT if you are could you do a fic with him being so protective of the reader(like someone being rude to her at camp). Because you know how protective he is of his sister now imagine that but on the love of his life.

the weight of names

— apollo x daughter of hebe!reader

warnings: language, mentions of harassment.

a/n: Hello, to know if my requests are open, it usually says in my description or in my pinned post. Fortunately, your request came in before I closed them so it's fine. Thank you!

Things had changed at Camp Half-Blood. Some campers you used to hang out with were gone, and even though it wasn't forever, you missed them. You stayed year-round, stuck with the others who, while not bad company, just didn’t click with you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

— Ha, ha. Piper McLean's best friend — you heard behind you and rolled your eyes dramatically, fed up with it all.

— Yeah, tell us. If she has so much money, why doesn’t she take you out of here and bring you with her?

You weren’t surprised by their accusations; it was almost routine. Today, they picked on your friendship with Piper; another day, it’d be Annabeth or Jason. When they wanted to show off, it’d be Percy and Nico, and when they were really unbearable, Frank, Leo, Hazel, or even Will. But no matter what, the cherry on top was always...

— Or your god friend.

There it was, of course.

— Yeah, they say it’s Apollo — mocked a girl who seemed to be a daughter of Hermes. Had you ever gotten along with any of them? Maybe the Stoll brothers, but now only one twin was at camp, probably too busy dealing with ten other kids to keep his sister in line.

You never denied or confirmed anything; it was easier that way, but sometimes they were annoying. You wondered if they skipped the awful welcome video that ended with: A safe place for everyone.

In the end, they weren’t doing anything different from any public school, but it was worse: The outcasts bullying an outcast.

— Get lost, will you? — you sighed tiredly, and they let out a long "Oooh" that made your hand itch to strike.

—What? — challenged an Aphrodite girl with her hands on her hips. — Are you going to attack us with rainbows, little Hebe girl?"

— Maybe she took the 'little' part too seriously,— mocked another, a Demeter kid, and you wondered if you could burn all his crops with light projection, but you dismissed the idea. You’d never stoop to their level.

— Wow, great joke, Lionel. It’s not like you’ve told me that a thousand times already. — Your sarcasm made him angry, and he took a step towards you, ready to fight. That was the great part about camp; no one was truly defenseless except the newcomers, so challenging someone was easy, but you ignored him and headed to your cabin.

—Stop — commanded the Aphrodite girl, and you felt a sudden stiffness in your legs that made you fall to your knees. Their charm speak.

You heard the laughter behind you and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to relax when a dull thud interrupted their laughter, turning it into groans. At the sudden change, you looked over your shoulder and saw them on the ground, piled on top of each other, blinking repeatedly. You’d seen that effect a few times but never thought it could be that.

— Good thing you were looking the other way — said a voice, startling you. Next to you was him, his curly brown hair and blue eyes you liked to see, but only secretly.

—Apollo — you breathed in disbelief, making him smile. He tried to take your hand, but you pulled away, blushing. He understood; it wasn’t the moment, but he wasn’t going to stand by either.

—You — he turned, his Converse kicking up dust as he walked to them. The Demeter kid clicked his tongue at the sight of a tall, skinny guy with brown hair and blue eyes. He found it trivial, but campers watching from afar started murmuring.

—Who are you?— he asked, and at the same time, one of Hephaestus’ sons, Harley, came out of his cabin due to the noise. Seeing the guy, his eyes widened.

—LESTER?— he shouted so loudly Mount Olympus might’ve heard. The god smiled amicably. The other three looked confused.

— Is that your name?— asked the Hermes girl in a tone the old Apollo would never have forgiven. He narrowed his eyes but then just nodded.

— Yeah, let’s say it is. Or at least one of my names — he smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile; it was full of disdain. — They call me that, but leaving that aside, know my name it's not helpful to you 'cause I’m also known for not tolerating injustice.

—Uuh— mocked the Demeter kid, and Apollo’s eyes bore into him.

— I’ll tell your mother — he accused, and the kid swallowed hard. —I know her well. Now...

He straightened up, looking down at them. One tried to get up, and Apollo snapped his fingers, pinning him to the ground again, which scared them, making them wonder if there was a child of some god of gravity around.

— Don’t bother this young lady anymore, and let me clarify something — he looked at you challengingly, making you blush, — yes, I’m her friend but not just that, she’s my-

—Enough — you interrupted nervously, and he smiled apologetically. Right, boundaries. He was learning that with you.

— Anyway, You need to stop. — he said firmly, and the three kids raised an eyebrow.

— Friend? When did I say that...— the Hermes girl recapped her words and realization hit her, — No.

Apollo nodded.

— Yes.

The dark way he said it sent a shiver down their spines, and he raised an eyebrow as he leaned towards the Hermes girl.

— And I’d recommend being careful with names. Ann, also daughter of Marlene.

Despite being the god of the sun, the coldness in his voice was relentless, and fear gripped them violently, making them run away screaming like babies.

The campers who knew him approached to say hello, but before he gave them his attention, he came up to you.

— Don’t let them do that anymore — he whispered in your ear, and you nodded. His hand caressed your cheek, and you smiled the smile he loved, resisting the urge to kiss you in front of everyone.

— See you — you said, watching him get dragged away by the other campers.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part 4

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.