#i love her unconditionally so i will sit her and smile and nod bc i love and would die for her

[whitechocolate]

.

[aanoia]

Would you be interested in doing “Broken one” by raelyn with James? Just like a readers who’s home life isn’t awful she has her mom and her mom is amazing. But when it comes to love she just doesn’t have a good foundational understanding unlike James potter who grew up amazing

obviously I loved this request so much and I hope I did it justice. It actually really hit close to home with me, so I'm really glad I got to write about it.

Broken One

James Potter x reader words; 1,626 song; Broken One by RaeLynn warnings; divorce (if you need to talk, reach out. this is something I know personally so I'd love to be someone you can trust about it.) the disrespect this world has for never letting me know about this song until now smh if you have a song request, or a normal request (bc i definitely get those out in a timely manner) just use my inbox. I love doing requests :) this one might be a little confusing to read, lmk if it is haha

We grew up so differently

You had one house, one backyard, one Christmas tree

The difference was obvious between the two of us. Maybe only I saw it, maybe the entire world did. All I knew was I came from a broken home of divorce, my dad was a cheating drunk and my mom, although amazing, was mostly emotionally unavailable. James on the other hand, had parents who loved each other unconditionally, they rarely fought and acted like teenagers in love. 

You didn't split your time, didn't wonder why, like me

“This came from your mother.” My dad said, walking into the kitchen and handing a letter to me.

“Thanks, dad.” He nodded briefly, giving me a tight lipped smile.

“Do you want anything to eat?” He asked. “I can make eggs.”

I smiled teasingly, “You gonna burn them again?” Dad took a swig of his beer and laughed.

“I’ll try not to.”

I smiled and carefully opened the letter. It was from James, so I assumed he forgot it was my dads week and sent his owl to my moms. I smiled as I read the letter, he’s such a sweetheart.

When I met your mom and I met your dad

Damn, it's cool to see that love can last

I watched with a smile as James’ parents danced together in the kitchen, completely forgetting the dinner they were making for us. 

“Are you alright, love?” James asked quietly, not wanting to bother his parents.

I nodded, “I’ve just never seen something like that before.”

James pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “Soon that will be you and I, yeah?”

I smiled against his lips, “Yes.”

'Cause I never knew 'til I was loved like that by you

“Ohhh, Y/n! I’m in love with youUuUUuuUUUuuuuuUU!” James sang loudly in the common as I died with laughter.

Sirius joined as his backup vocals and air guitar and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Will you dimwits shut up, please? I’m getting a migraine.” He asked and James just sang louder, his vocal chords straining.

You could've seen too much work

All the missing pieces

Someone who's gonna leave

'Cause I come from leaving

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“No.” James said, crossing his arms.

I furrowed my brows, “No?”

He nodded and shrugged, “No. You don’t get to finish your sentence because I don’t think I’m gonna like the ending.”

“But Jame-”

He booped my nose and I pulled my face back in surprise, “No. And it’s Jamie to you, missy.”

Could've seen my past

Took a look at my baggage

And packed yours up and run

“You can cry, you know?” James said softly, sitting beside me on the porch of my moms house.

Tears filled my eyes at his words, “I should’ve had you meet them separately. I’m such an idiot.” I whispered, my voice cracking.

James pulled me into his side, “You’re not an idiot. They're the only idiots here. This was important for you, they should’ve been able to put aside their differences for you.”

But you saw a home in a girl from a broken one

“I want this one.” James said and I side eyed him.

“James, I love you. But this one sucks.”

James scoffed as our real estate agent (do they even have those?) laughed.

“That’s all right. I have one more for you two.”

“It’s perfect.” James and I said in sync.

She has my eyes and has your nose

I let out a wet laugh as my baby girl was handed to me. I gently pet her head, a few tears falling down my face.

“I think that was more painful for James than it was for you.” James’ mom said and I laughed as he grabbed my hand, ignoring the teasing.

“I’m at a loss for words.” James whispered honestly and I smiled at him as he stared at our daughter.

“Hold her.” I whispered back and he shook his head.

“I’ll hurt her.” He worried.

“You won’t, my love. Hold our little girl.” I said, carefully lifting her into his arms. He held her carefully, as if she was a fragile flower.

But thank God she never has to know

What it's like to grow up picking sides

“This is a recipe for disaster.” I muttered as James bundled up our daughter in her snow coat. 

“No, it’s not. Relax a bit, Y/n/n.” Sirius responded and I glared at him.

“Don’t kill my kid or I’ll do worse than kill you.”

He grinned, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“She’s ready!” James proclaimed proudly and the two ran out the door. 

I hesitantly followed behind them and watched as they swung her over a large pile of untouched snow. A small smile graced my lips as her laughter filled the air, before it was silenced as she fell into the snow. Instead of it catching her she just went right through. She began laughing again under all the snow and James hurried to get her out while Sirius was howling with laughter. Even a few laughs left my lips.

You could've seen too much work

All the missing pieces

Someone who's gonna leave

'Cause I come from leaving

“Shh, you’re okay, my love.” James whispered into my hair as I cried softly, clutching tightly onto his shirt. “Hey, beautiful, look at me.” He lifted my chin and I struggled not to bury my face in the crook of his neck again. “Hey, we are not your parents, all right? Not your parents.”

Could've seen my past

Took a look at my baggage

And packed yours up and run

I held tightly onto my son's hand as we weaved through the train station, trying to get to platform 9 ¾.

“Are you ready for this, Jean?” James asked our daughter who nodded nervously.

“I think.”

“Well, I know.” I chimed in and she smiled.

“Yeah. I am ready.” She corrected herself.

“First year of Hogwarts, and then in two years it’ll be you Harry.” I said, squeezing my sons hand as he smiled up at me.

“Ah, here we are.”

“Uh, dad, this is a wall.” Jean deadpanned and I laughed.

“Not just any wall, smartas-” I glared at James and he cleared his throat. “Alec. You walk through it to get to platform 9 ¾.”

“Huh?”

“Come on. Together.” I said and grabbed onto Jean’s free hand. The four of us as a group walked through the wall and were greeted with the familiar horn of the train. Jean went rigid and I looked down worriedly. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“I’m scared, mama.”

“No need to be scared!” A voice said from behind us and we turned around.

“Yeah! We can be best friends!” Two identical ginger boys said with large smiles.

Jean smiled, “Okay! I’m Jean Potter.”

“I’m Fred.”

“And I’m George. Or am I Fred?”

“Am I George?”

“What?” James said and I laughed.

But you saw a home in a girl from a broken one

“Ugh, Sirius is a dick.” James said as he walked into our room.

“Then why are you forcing me to let him live with us?” I asked with a teasing smile, setting my book down.

“Because I love him.” James laid his head in my lap. “But I love you more.”

Yeah, my raising wasn't perfect

But the girl you saw was worth it

“I feel so old.” I said, sitting down at the kitchen counter after dropping off Jean and Harry, Jean entering her fourth year of Hogwarts and Harry his second.

“You are, my love.” James said, kissing my cheek and grabbing some milk.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You could've seen too much work

All the missing pieces

Someone who's gonna leave

'Cause I come from leaving

“Just go, goddamnit! Leave!” I yelled at my parents who were arguing over who got to see this kids for Christmas. “I mean, for fucks sake, get out of my house!”

“Y/n, that is no way to speak to you pa-”

“I think it’s time for you two to leave.” James said calmly after taking the kids to their rooms, walking over to the door and opening. I breathed heavily, my bottom lip trembling as they walked out angrily. 

Once the door closed my shoulders deflated and I sighed in defeat. James silently brought me into a tight hug, quietly telling me he was there and everything was going to be okay.

Could've seen my past

Took a look at my baggage

And packed yours up and run

But you saw a home in a girl from a broken one

“Oh, you old bag. Shut your face.” I croaked from beside James’ hospital bed.

“You be quiet, you wrinkly tomato.” He retorted.

“Kick the bucket all ready.”

“Mom!” Jean scolded, holding her toddler in her arms.

“What? It’s gonna happen soon for both of us.” I reasoned and James laughed.

“You age like fine wine.” He complimented.

“You age like a banana.” I gently kissed his cheek. “I’m gonna miss you, but if I have to spend another minute in this hospital because you’re too stubborn to die I will kill you.”

He smiled and motioned me closer. I obliged and he kissed me like we were young. Passionate and loving. His monitor flatlined mid kiss and his grip on my hand lessened. I smiled sadly as a single tear fell from my eyes and landed on his cheek.

“It was his time.” I whispered. Two days later I laid in the same bed and took my last breath, the only thing on my mind was seeing James again.

Yeah, you saw home sweet home

In a girl from a broken one

taglist (if you want to be added ask in the comments);

@loving-and-dreaming (your request but still) @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter One.

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of wtsgd! i’m so excited for you all to read this story and for what’s to come. please please please support content creators bc we’re doing this for free and it takes up a lot of energy to put out stories. so reblog, leave feedback, and send a message to motivate and support them. happy reading everyone <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 6.4k

come talk to me about wtsgd! i’d love to know your thoughts!

March 4, 2017

The trunk was filled with heavy boxes that were labeled with thick black sharpie, which didn’t seem to leave Luciana’s senses; and one too many suitcases filled with her many articles of clothing that she couldn’t get rid of—no matter how hard she tried—since she was too much of a hoarder and every piece of clothing seemed to have a lost memory in them that she tried very hard to think of, which only meant that it was worth keeping. 

A droplet of sweat leaked down the side of her face due to  her nonstop packing and heavy-lifting from her childhood room upstairs to her dad’s car in the driveway. It didn’t help that the sun was beaming down at her with every move like she was on center stage, in front of the spotlight, but it made much more sense for the sun to do that because that’s where she belonged: on stage. 

Moving to Brooklyn, New York from Cambridge, Massachusetts during, what felt like, the coldest but the sunniest day of March wasn’t the smartest move—to be fair, Luciana was never one to make a smart move, anyways—but it was one that needed to be done. Plus, all the lifting seemed to have warmed her up. 

Her destination, or now, home, in New York was one that she’d been anticipating for a while now. She had auditioned for the role as Kim in Miss Saigon on Broadway in November, and she’d gotten a callback in January for the role as the second Kim, meaning she would be on rotation to perform every week or two weeks, so the main Kim could rest. But she would still have to go to rehearsals and be on the side of the stage watching the show just in case she needed to jump in at the last minute. 

It wasn’t her ideal way of playing the main lead, but nonetheless, she was grateful for the opportunity, and she would take any chance that was thrown at her to not only take another step towards her dream, but also another learning opportunity to make her a better actress. 

Little Luci would’ve been so proud of the present Luci because it’d been her dream ever since she was younger, to be on stage and eventually, be on the big screen. Although she was far from completing her dream of being a face in Hollywood, this was a step that would take her to where she wanted to be in the future, and for that, she was proud of herself. 

As a child, Luci had been in various commercials; from being the kid that played with slime and had no lines but to just put on a big smile while the sticky substance ran through her small hands, to being the daughter in a car commercial with one line that said “Are we there yet?” with a groan and a face of exhaustion as if she were the one driving the car. She hoped that these commercials would have someone recognize her talent, to cast her as a Disney star, but that would require moving to California, which her parents were wary of. 

The commercials stopped when she reached middle school. Her early adolescent years consisted of an abundance of attitude and mood swings; Luci was a very tough and determined kid. Her love for acting had grown into a big balloon that was let go and on its way into the galaxy where no one could reach it—where no one could mess with her achieving her dream. 

She would always stand in front of her white wooden framed mirror—with delicately painted colorful flowers around the border—reciting lines that she heard from a television series or the films that she watched, and she would write them down in her blue notebook. Sometimes, her parents would let her search the script up if it was available online. But oftentimes, she would test and challenge her memorization, and listen to it by ear; testing her mind, and eventually, her memorization skills were immaculate by the age of eleven. 

It was perfect timing because by the time she was in middle school, she was able to snatch the roles she wanted when her school’s drama department held school plays. Her family thought that she would start to hate being on stage since school plays always ran until late evening, but being part of the productions had only enhanced her love for her talent, and it only prepared her for a quarter of what her future may look like. 

All in all, from a very young age, she always knew that she wanted to become an actress. The spotlight or the center of the camera was where she always craved to be. 

And she was finally making that dream come true. 

A black Toyota Camry pulled into the space behind the car that was filled with her belongings. Ren and Beatrice, Luci’s lovely parents, both get out of the car with a pink box of donuts—a snack for the road and for when she gets to her new apartment. 

“Ready, Lucky?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. She was quite bummed to see Luci leave her childhood home, but she’s proud to see Lucky Luci chase her dreams. She was, after all, twenty-five and was bound to move out at some point, but to see it actually happen made Beatrice quite emotional. 

“Ma, please, don’t cry…” Luci frowned as Beatrice pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder, comforting her. “You’re all coming to New York in a month, right? To watch me on stage?” Luci asked, reassuring herself that she would see her family in a different state to rescue her from her loneliness. 

Luci was an independent woman. She could do tasks by herself, go places alone, and she wouldn’t have a problem with it; she enjoyed the company of herself. But to know that at some point she might be alone—that everyone had left her behind or forgotten about her—was what scared her. She needed to know that the people who loved her unconditionally wouldn’t forget about her. 

“Of course we’re going!” Ren exclaimed with a smile that Luci was going to miss seeing everyday. “We can’t miss our baby on the Broadway stage. If we could, we’d go to every damn show that you’re in, but that would be a lot of gas, no?” 

She chuckled, nodding her head. She felt tears pricking her eyes at how supportive her parents were—they’ve always been. If she could, she would take them with her to New York, but her one bedroom apartment and their work said otherwise. 

“Now, Lucky, don’t cry.” It was Beatrice’s turn to comfort her daughter. Like any parent, when they see their child cry, it breaks their heart and they cry too. “We’re gonna see you real soon. You can always come back anytime you want. We’re just a phone call away and we’ll pick you up,” Beatrice said between sniffles. The mother and daughter were embracing so tenderly and comfortingly—enjoying every last moment together until they got to see each other again. 

“Jeez, you’re both the same—always crying!” Ren interrupted, making the two women laugh; and he was glad they found what he said amusing because he couldn’t handle the sad moment. “C’mon here, my Lulu.” Luci settled into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. She’s always been her dad’s girl, despite having a close relationship with her mother, her relationship with her father was something that felt like home; he always knew what to say and when to say it. It helped that she was the female version of him. “You’re gonna be the best star out there, I’m sure of it. Now, I want you to have fun, alright? The fame, the fortune, the big city…it doesn’t amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life” He comfortingly rubbed Luci’s back, holding her in a warm and tight squeeze. 

Luci smiled at her father’s words. She was always a bit hard on herself when she would mess up or forget a line or a movement that correlates to a specific line in her script. When she was younger, she would beat herself up for a sliver of a moment; she would cry into her pillow—sobs loud enough that they were heard from downstairs. Luci would think that she wouldn’t become a well-known actress just because of the minor forgetfulness her mind had presented. But Ren would gently tap on her ocean blue door, letting himself in because he knew his daughter didn’t have the energy to get up and let him in, and he would sit beside her, gently urging her to sit up with him. Once she complied, after many groans of refusals, she would be glad she did because her father looked deeply into her eyes—and it was like looking into the reflection of clear and clean water—and told her she was a star. It was only three words, but those three words reminded her to never give up and get up when she would hit the pavement of what she felt like were her fallen hopes and dreams. 

Ren would then end it with a statement of advice that had always lingered in her mind, resonating to the silent and harshful words that she tells herself. ‘Nothing will amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life.’

A rush of gratitude settled upon her as her eyes became glossier by the seconds she was in Ren’s arms. Beatrice looked at her greatest treasures fondly, a smile appeared on her face only for it to be replaced by a look of confusion. 

“Where is that damn brother of yours? He said he was going to be here at ten!” Beatrice interrupted the sweet moment she was having with her father, making them disconnect from the hug—just as Ren did with Luci and Beatrice.  

Speaking of the devil, her dear brother was making his way towards home on the side of the street, wearing a grey sweatshirt that was stained with his sweat as his earphones were nestled in his ears, loudly playing music. He loudly sang along to some rap song, breath staggered as he rapped along with his hands. 

Nathan smiled once he stepped foot onto the driveway as he took out his earphones, seeing his family look at him vigilantly. Luci laughed, shaking her head. 

“Hey, there’s our superstar, little Ana!” Nathan opened his arms, ready to hug you but she quickly stopped him, curving her spine backwards to deny his hug. Ana had been one of the many nicknames her family had called her when she was growing up from the second half of her name, but Ana seemed to have stuck with Nathan as no one else really called her that, so it was his own personal nickname for her. 

“Ew, please, do not hug me.” Her face wrinkled in disgust from the spell of her brother’s sweat from his run. Nathan chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before turning towards his parents. 

“Ooh, donuts-”

Beatrice slapped the back of his hand before he even got a chance to open the pink donut box. “Not until you shower and change. Lulu needs to be in Brooklyn by three!” 

“Ow, mother!” Nathan whipped his hand away from Beatrice’s burning slap, although he was just playing around and being dramatic. “But fine, alright. The star always gets what she wants, am I right?” He dropped his head towards Luci, sighing before he hurried inside the house to take a quick shower and change. 

Luci giggled, telling her parents that she would be right back to go up to her room to check if she’d gotten everything, even though she knew that she had everything, she just needed to reminisce alone for a moment. 

Her feet took her up the wooden stairs, where she, for some unknown reason, always spent her time sitting on as she leaned her back against the wall and read or drew. Nathan always found it weird of her when they were doing homework when they were younger, but it was just one of the many fun anecdotes he could tell reporters if he’s asked about their childhood. 

Pushing open her ocean blue door that she never changed because she loved the color, she was met with the emptiness of what was once her sanctuary. Despite the paint on the wall changing, the replacement of furniture, and rearrangement of her childhood room, Luci could still see the baby pink walls where she hung up various posters of her celebrity crushes when she was eight. She could still see herself walking over to her Cinderella white wooden dresser as she pulled out an inflatable microphone from her drawer before she walked over to her bed to sing her heart out with her cousin. In the corner of her room was her mirror that she painted colorful flowers along the border when she was younger, and she definitely did not want to change or get rid of it; it wasn’t difficult to stir up a memory when she was in front of that mirror because up until now, she was always reciting her lines to her own reflection until the late night. 

All of these memories that Luci held within her heart would help her ground herself—remind her where she came from. No matter where her career took her, she would always be the girl that was firstly known in her room, crying, laughing, and acting within the four baby pink walls until she was sixteen, and then it changed to an ecru white. The feeling of nostalgia clutched her chest, and for the second time today—not even noon, yet—she found herself crying. 

She silently sobbed in her sanctuary. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was grasping onto the memories, begging her to not leave, to not move on. But moving on would mean being stuck, and she didn’t want to feel stuck—she just never wanted to be in one place where the walls would slowly feel like they were closing in on her. She didn’t want to be in one place and eventually hated it, so for that, she had to move on. 

A soft knock was heard from the outside of her bedroom, making Luci turn around hastily. She found Beatrice standing in the doorway, warmly smiling at her daughter, and keeping the tears at bay because she needed the comfort of her mother more than her mother’s tears. 

“My Lucky Star…” Beatrice walked into the room, welcoming Luci into her arms. “You okay?” 

Luci deeply inhaled and exhaled as she calmed herself down from her cries. “I’m alright. It’s just hard saying goodbye to this place—to my room.”’

“Oh, Lulu. You don’t need to say goodbye. I know you’ll be coming back here soon, anyways. I know you love home too much to completely stay away.” Beatrice was subtly trying to remind Luci about her love for her hometown, for her home, but her words also were trying to remind her about that certain love for her home and to never forget that love so she doesn’t stray away because Beatrice was simply afraid Luci would never want to come back once she discovered the luxury of her career. And even though she knew her Lulu wasn’t one to forget about her family, Beatrice would never admit her fear. 

Luci sniffled, wiping her tears away as she pulled away from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, I know. Just…doesn’t feel real that I’m leaving.” 

“Sure, you’re leaving, but you’re going off to do bigger and better things. You were never one to stay in one place, physically and mentally—you were always moving, always loved learning more. And I’ve always been so intrigued and interested in how your mind works.” 

“Ma…” The waterworks seemed to be the highlight of the move. 

“I’m serious! I’m so genuinely proud of you. You’ve been keeping your talent—and I don’t mean ‘high school plays’ talent. I mean your Broadway, Hollywood, Academy winning talent. Now, you get to showcase your light in front of thousands of people.” Beatrice always had a way of boosting Luci’s self-esteem, making her ego a tad bit more bigger than it already was. She didn’t mind if her self-esteem had skyrocketed into the galaxy of her dreams, but she always reminded Luci that being humble and kind always outweighed being obnoxious and arrogant. “Now, enough with these tears. You’ve got a road trip to New York. C’mon, now.” 

They made their way downstairs and out the door where Ren and Nathan were talking about the latest basketball game of the Celtics. The trunk was closed, and the only thing waiting was Luci herself. 

“There she is! Ready?” 

Luci took a deep breath, turning her head to look back at the pastel yellow house that had kept her safe for the past twenty-five years. From here, she knew everything was going to change. Whether it’d be for the good or if things would go downhill from here? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she was going to be doing what she loved and she was going to have the time of her life doing it. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

The state of Connecticut seemed to pass by quickly from the car as Nathan drove at a decent seventy miles per hour; the state vanished just as quickly as when they entered. 

Luci mindlessly looked out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at once as she drowned out the music playing through the speakers of the car and Nathan’s voice singing along. 

The cars passing by, the bystanders, and the locals filled the streets and highways, making her wonder what all of these people’s stories were—wondering if they lived in this city or if they were just stopping by to visit, or if they’re just going through the state to get to the one next door just as she was. Maybe she’s had an encounter or simply passed by them on the street in a world that seemed too large but small at the same time. She always pondered on whether everyone else thought the way she thought—if they wondered what her story was or the people around them. 

The world is an interesting place and there were so many intriguing people out there, making her more excited by the minute as she takes on this new adventure in her life that would be completely life changing. Luci’s going to be meeting so many new people that, she would hope, have an impact on her personal life or career. 

“Nervous?” Nathan broke the comfortable silence between them. 

Luci raised her brows and curled her lips into her mouth. “A bit.” 

He nodded, thinking for a moment. Nathan was always one to think before he spoke, and it was a quality that some people needed to learn how to do. He quickly learned that lesson when he was in high school; one of his friends, Johnny, and him were going back and forth joking around with one another. And for some odd reason, teenage boys liked to joke around about fucking everything, so Nathan had said “Yeah, I fucked your mom, what about it?” without thinking. Johnny stayed silent, the rest of their friends were waiting for his comeback, but they only received tears that glossed over his eyes before he ran off to a different part of campus, away from the lunch tables. Nathan found him behind the orchestra building with his face pressed on his kneecaps, crying. Later, he found out that Johnny’s mother had passed away before their sophomore year started and he hadn’t told anyone, which left Nathan quite speechless, but it was a lesson that he learned: to think before anything comes out of his mouth. 

“I know you’ll do great. You were born to do this, born to be on stage. Everything you do is to greater your experience and opportunities. All the mistakes you’re gonna make, which we both know you’re gonna make, they’re gonna be learning lessons for you to continue doing what you’re good at doing; the mistakes are there so you can better yourself,” he reassured, occasionally glancing at you briefly before averting his eyes back onto the highway. 

Luci smiled, never taking her eyes off her older brother. She leaned closer to the middle console, where his right arm was resting on the padded console. Hugging his arm tightly and resting her cheek on his shoulder, she accepted and appreciated his advice, his words. They made her heart fill up with so much gratitude and love, insanely grateful and happy that she had such an amazing and supportive family who always knew the right things to say when they could sense her nerves and anxieties powering through the roof. 

“You’re gonna kill it out there. This is just a step towards where you wanna go, where you actually wanna be.” 

She nodded, looking to her right as they quickly passed the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign from the state line of Connecticut and New York, and it was the sign indicating her new home. 

Nathan pulled into the apartment’s parking garage, entering in with the code that the complex gave Luci on the silver keypad as the two watched the automatic gate arm swing up to the side, and Nathan entered the parking structure, parking in one of the many spaces available. 

Luci excitedly got out of the car, rushing to the trunk where Nathan had opened it from inside the car. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to bring the hand dolly to help carry the boxes, which meant that the siblings were going to have to carry the many boxes she packed by her own hand and strength. But luckily, some of them weren’t that heavy; most of the items in the brown boxes were kitchenware and she figured she could just drag those. 

One by one, they took one box each and headed for the elevator, where it took them to her apartment floor—floor four. Luci grabbed the keys from her purse that contained two copper keys hanging on one single silver loop and a small keyless sensor, and she unlocked her navy blue door, revealing her new apartment. 

When she entered, she was met with a door across the entrance that she would use for her coats and shoes, things that she would need when she’s rushing out the door. Going through the small hallway in from the entrance, it led her to another small hallway to her left where her bedroom and guest bathroom was; and to her right, it would take her to the kitchen and living space. With four big windows with black window frames, the natural light really came in, making her place brighter for saving electricity. 

Walking in and putting the boxes against the black cabinets in the kitchen, she immediately fell in love with the space, her space. Despite already taking a tour of the apartment a few months prior to her official move in day, it felt different being there for the second time because she now knew that this place was hers. She saw it in a different light, and she was already anticipating the memories she was going to make in her new home. The place was empty; and with every step and every noise from her mouth, the room would echo, and she loved it. There was something satisfying about the echo in an empty space that was hers, like she wanted to furnish the hell out of it, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the echo. 

“This is your new home.” Nathan put an arm around Luci’s shoulder. He got a bit emotional seeing his baby sister grow up and move away from home, but he was excited for all of the experiences and memories she was going to make. Luci looked up at him, not saying anything but smiling as she was speechless. Nathan could practically feel the excitement run through her and all he did was chuckle at her speechlessness. “C’mon, let’s go get the rest of the boxes.” 

For the next fifteen minutes, Luci and Nathan hauled the boxes from the car, to the elevator, and down the hallway to her apartment. There were about four more boxes left in the trunk, and they would’ve been finished by now if they hadn’t been taking breaks. 

Nathan’s phone rang as he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets of the kitchen across from Luci who was sitting in the corner where her dining table would be. 

“Hello?” Answered Nathan. “What? Tonight? I’m in New York. I’m helping my little sister move here. Uh, okay. Sure. Bye.” He groaned, standing up. 

“Who was that?” Luci asked, nosy as she was. 

“That was one of the board members at Mass General Hospital.” Luci’s eyes widened. “They just asked me if I could come in tonight to teach and supervise the new residents.” Nathan was a general doctor working in the Emergency Room as Mass General back in Boston. He’s always wanted to teach with all the knowledge he’s stored in his brain—always wanting someone to learn a thing or two when they spoke to him, and this was his chance. 

“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Nate!” Luci stood up, excited for him.

He started to breathe a bit heavily and Luci immediately took notice; she could practically feel the nerves coming out of him, the same nerves she felt while going in for an audition. “Yeah, I actually have to leave, like, right now.” 

“Hey, hey.” She quickly stopped him from running out of the building and out of his mind. “Come here—breathe with me for a second.” She held onto his wrists gently. 

“Luci, I have to-”

He pulled away, but she tugged him back. “You’re going to drive yourself through the highway, and who knows what will happen, you might get pulled over and you won’t make it to the hospital. So, just take sixty seconds to breathe with me.” 

For the remainder of the time that they had together, they took some deep breaths. She spoke encouraging and uplifting words to him to calm down his nerves and anxieties that he seemed to drive himself over a cliff for, and it seemed to work as Nathan’s shoulder’s weren’t so tense and the grip on her hands had loosened. 

The two of them walked down to the parking garage where Nathan took down the last four boxes and placed them by the entrance of the complex. He was adamant on helping her get the last few boxes up to her apartment, but she shrugged it off, telling him that she was able to carry them and that he needed to leave because he’s most likely going to hit traffic during rush hour. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it. I will drive here in a heartbeat.” 

“I will, I will-”

“Just not tonight,” he joked. “This is the highlight of my career.” His smile was so bright that it was like he was a little kid on Christmas again who just received a Hot Speed set from Santa. 

Luci laughed, hugging him goodbye. “And call me if you need anything too. I’ll miss seeing you everyday,” she admitted, a slight frown on her face. She thought she’d have the entire day with Nathan, but it was cut short due to his work but she wasn’t mad about that at all because she knew there'd be plenty of times when he would drive down to walk along the New York streets and see her perform. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Ana. But I love you and I’ll see you next month!” He hurried into his car, and Luci watched him as he pulled out of the driveway, waving at the rear view mirror to say one last ‘see you later’ to his little sister. 

Walking back to the curb where all of the boxes were set, Luci picked one up to test how heavy it was and she barely made it upright without almost hurting her back, so she put the box down to take a proper breather. She decided to drag the box closer to the door of the complex—which saved her a few steps without completely dropping the box that was labeled ‘glass plates’—and pulled the handle of the door, only to find it completely locked. There was a slight panic that flew through her until she realized that she needed her keyless tag that she had to press against the pad on the wall to get inside the complex, so she blew out a sigh of relief before reaching down to her pocket for her key, and with just her luck, her keys weren’t in her pocket or with her at all. Then she started to panic again. 

Luci quickly walked out of the parking garage and to the front of the building where the leasing office was to find them closed, which was odd because it was Saturday, but apparently their servers were down so they just decided to take the entire day off. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, walking back to the garage in a fast manner because she didn’t want anyone to take her boxes, and so she figured that she could just wait until someone left the complex or arrived. She even left her phone at her place, so it wasn’t like she could call anyone to help her, but some sort of entertainment would help the time go by quicker. 

Sitting on the curb in the garage, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, and humming the melody from the Miss Saigon soundtrack, an hour goes by until she sees someone walk past the automatic gate barrier, heading towards the entrance where he opened the door with his tag. Luci sprinted towards the door, calling out for help. 

“Wait, wait!” The man turned around confusingly, taking his AirPod out of one ear. She caught up, taking deep breaths as she waved at the man. “Sorry, I’ve been out here for an hour and I completely forgot my key.” He didn’t say anything but stared at her, wondering why he’s never seen this woman before. The apartment complex really only had four floors, and he’s sure that he’s seen everyone who’s lived here. She noticed that he looked down at the boxes and back at her. “Oh, I just moved in.” He nodded more understandingly. “Do you mind holding the door for me?” 

“Sure.” Was the first thing he told her before stepping aside to hold the door. She took another deep breath, getting into the correct form so she doesn’t throw her back out, and began to lift the heavy box. He noticed her struggling, and he felt foolish for not offering his help in the first place when he noticed the four boxes on the cement. “Here, sorry, let me help with that. Get the door, yeah?” Luci’s heart flipped once she heard his deep, accented voice before she gratefully thanked him and he grabbed the box from her, replacing her hands with his and the slightest brush of their fingers made her flustered; he held the box tightly to his chest without much struggle. 

“Yeah, let me just get this one.” Luci grabbed a much lighter box that had all of her shoes, and held the door for him with her foot as he made his way inside of the building and to the elevator. He pressed the button with the arrow pointing up, and luckily, they didn’t have to wait for more than five seconds before the bell at the top chimed and the stainless steel doors opened. 

With the heavy box in his hands, he still let Luci walk in first, which made her smile and he followed in as she pressed with the bold ‘4’ printed on it. He held the box in between his chest and the other end of the bar on the wall as they waited in silence as the elevator lifted them up to her apartment floor, and she brushed past him when he lifted his arm, gesturing her to go first. 

Her front door was closed but it was unlocked, which only made sense, so she opened her door, putting the box next to the entrance and politely asking the man to put it next to the one you put down. 

“Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.” 

“It’s no problem. I was the same when I moved here too—forgot my keys and was locked out.” He related to make her feel lighter about the situation since it was an honest mishap. 

“Did you go to the leasing office?” She asked curiously. 

“Yeah, but they were closed.” 

“They’re closed today too! It’s like they do that on purpose whenever someone new moves in.” The man chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

She hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since she was too distracted by trying to get into her building, but just by one real look at him, he was very attractive—probably too attractive to where she couldn’t think straight. He was wearing a pastel yellow and white striped button down that was a bit flowy and open, showing his white tank underneath that was tucked into his black skinny jeans. His tank top was low enough, exposing a patch of chest hair and his necklace that rested against his skin, in between his swallow tattoos just below his collarbones. Rings hugged his long fingers on both hands as he held two brown paper bags from Trader Joes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and she felt like she was going to compare his beauty to all the other men that she was going to encounter in the future. 

“They’re not very good at going into work, but if you give them a call then it’s like they’re a 24/7 help center.” 

Luci nodded, chuckling. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’ll help you with the last boxes.” Before she was about to protest and tell him that he didn’t have to help her anymore because she was sure the last ones were light, he made his way towards the elevator and she quickly followed. 

To her surprise, one of the boxes was heavier than the other and she was glad that the man was able to carry it for her. They took the boxes up to her apartment, stacking it on top of the ones that were set down before she thanked him gratefully again. 

“I really appreciate all your help.” She smiled, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Not that I’m doubting your strength or anything, but how were you supposed to get those boxes up to your apartment?” He asked softly, not wanting to offend her by his words. 

“Oh, my brother was supposed to help me, but he had to go back home for an emergency at work.” The man nodded, seeming that was the most acceptable answer, not like he was searching if she was lying. “But thank you for your help. You’re a true lifesaver,” she said with a soft smile on her face. Her tone was a bit flirty than she wanted it to be, but it naturally came out. 

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you around.” Luci hadn’t closed her door yet, but she found out that he was literally her neighbor on the opposite side of the wall. He didn’t even have to take two steps to get to his place—all he had to do was turn around and he was home. She smiled at the thought of that, glad that her neighbor was already so kind to her. 

As he was fumbling with his keys, he eventually got his door unlocked, and Luci was itching to ask what his name was—maybe make her first friend during her first day living in the big city. The man felt his neighbor's eyes on him, burning through the back of his head, so he turned around at the same time she spoke. 

“Uh, hey,” Luci called out. He was looking over his shoulder, pursing his lips as he raised his brows. “I was wondering if…you’d like to have dinner with me tonight? Y’know, to thank you for all your help and practically saving me while I was stranded.” She chuckled, playing with the tips of her fingers as she looked at him with hope. 

He thought the invitation was nice, but…“It’s okay, really. I, uh, have plans already tonight,” he admitted honestly because he doesn’t make a habit of being dishonest. 

Luci had some thick skin—she grew it throughout the years, and she had always been pretty confident. So many people would think that she could handle rejection well because she’s auditioned for many roles in her lifetime, and had been rejected for most of those roles. But the rejection that her neighbor handed to her so respectfully and politely was one that hit her the most, and she didn't know why. 

Curling her lips into her mouth as she felt the pang of her heart sinking into her chest, she nodded and placed a small smile onto her face. 

“Have fun tonight, then. I’ll see you around.” She grinned, hiding the slight bit of pain that she felt. He nodded, walking inside his apartment as she was in her doorway as well. “Oh, I’m Luci, by the way.” She introduced herself, feeling like she should have done that ten minutes ago, but it had slipped her mind. 

The corner of the man’s mouth turned up into a sly smirk, and she nearly felt herself fall as she gripped the door handle tightly. It was enough to make the pain in her chest disappear, and all thoughts of the rejection that she would think about for the rest of the night vanished. 

“Nice to meet you, Luci. I’m Harry.” 

With that, Harry closed his door, putting a barrier between him and Luci, who was still standing in her doorway. She let out the longest sigh of her life, feeling like she’d been constricting herself from breathing properly for the last ten minutes. 

Luci closed her door and leaned against it, looking down at the boxes that were resting by her feet. She softly smiled, her cheeks were starting to get warm, and she was fully aware that Harry was the cause of it.

come talk to me about your thoughts and feelings! hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, thank you for reading <3 

ty to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading!

[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers part 7 (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @cloud9in @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @clowneryme (if you wanna be added on let me know) 

word count: 5.2k (my longest chapter yet) 

if there’s any mistakes i’ll fix it later bc its like 5am here 

part 1: part 2: part 3: part 4: part 5: part 6: 

Birthday Bash 

“Bea.” 

Poppy stares at the brunette, wide-eyed, her knuckles turning white as she firmly grips on the doorknob, but she doesn’t let go. She definitely wasn’t planning on seeing her girlfriend tonight, and judging by the haunted expression on Bea’s face, neither was she. 

“Hey,” is all Bea can squeak out, lips slightly quivering, her eyes a bloodshot red as if she’s been crying for days. Poppy quickly peaks her head out of the doorway, analysing her surroundings, looking for any traces of anyone's presence before clutching onto Bea’s arm and dragging her into the foyer.

“What happened?” Poppy’s voice is soft, timid, her brows furrowed as she takes in Bea’s demeanour. As the lights shine on Bea, Poppy can see her girlfriend’s features more clearly, her cheeks glisten with dried tear stains, while her hair looks like a bush, most likely from Bea running her hand through hair constantly, a habit she does when she’s upset or angry. 

As if right on cue, Bea runs a hand through her hair, her expression distressed.“ Is it safe to talk here?” Bea’s tone’s insecure as she gazes into the strawberry blonde’s eyes for the first time tonight, and Poppy notices the sad glint in her eyes. It takes all of Poppy’s strength to not break down in tears just by looking at her girlfriend. 

Poppy clears her throat, blinking away the tears, “uh yeah, my dad’s not home. Come let’s go to my room.” Poppy contemplates holding Bea’s hand as she sees it fitted closely to the brunette’s side, but reminds herself how volatile things are between her and Bea so she walks ahead of Bea and not looking behind her until she reaches her room. She opens the door and lets Bea into the room, making a beeline for her bed, sitting at the edge while Bea hovers near the door frame, nervously fidgeting as if it’s her first time in the strawberry blonde’s room, her eyes wearily glancing around the room. 

“You can sit if you want” Poppy pats the space near her and Bea gives her a small smile as Bea gives a small nod of appreciation and meanders over to her bed and settles down, leaving a wide gap between herself and Poppy. As the girls look over at each other, familiarity slowly begins to wash over them as the memories that they spent together in the room come flooding into their minds; the late nights, the sneaking out, the kisses, the cuddles, the I love yous. It wasn’t that long ago where the girls were lying down in Poppy’s bed together discussing their future and senior year, but now as they’re in the same space everything has changed, and deep down inside they both know that. 

Poppy gives Bea a warm smile, her eyes full of affection as she waits patiently for her girlfriend to speak first. Poppy knows firsthand to be submissive when Bea is in a mood, otherwise Bea will just close off and the girls won’t make any progress. After some deliberation, she tentatively reaches out, her hand slowly clasping around Bea’s, giving it a squeeze, a small gesture to reassure her girlfriend that she’s willing to wait. Bea smiles internally at Poppy’s action, but after the dispute between herself and her mother, it has been on a constant replay in her head, almost like a never ending nightmare which she can’t wake herself up from. The girls continue to sit in the silence as Bea tries to gain her bearings, her mind going a million miles a minute, but Bea fights against the flight instinct she has become accustomed to over the last couple of months taking a deep slowing breath before opening her mouth to speak. 

“Thank you for letting me in.” 

Poppy frowns, “you’re my girlfriend Bea, I would never turn you away.” 

Bea glances down at the floor, “so why didn’t you want me at the hospital? Or why haven’t you answered my calls? Texts?” A guilty expression flashes across Poppy’s face, as she stutters, struggling to come up with a valid reason, instead she clamps her mouth shut, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Bea reaches out to take Poppy’s cast in both of her hands, her soft fingers delicately brushing against the rough plaster, a solemn look on her face. “When you fell I-” she abruptly cuts herself off as hot tears begin to stream down her face, she shifts her gaze away from Poppy, in an attempt to hide her face. 

Poppy reaches out, cupping Bea’s face in her hands, her thumbs swiping the tears as she places her forehead against the brunettes, speaking softly against her lips, “Bea I know. I’m okay though.” The strawberry blonde’s voice begins to waver but she clears her throat, pushing away the lump in her throat, “I know I’ve been distant lately. Pushing you away and it isn’t fair. We need to stop avoiding this conversation.” Bea nods into Poppy’s hands, sniffling as she blinks away the last couple of tears forming in her eyes. 

“You’re right.” 

And so Bea tells Poppy everything; her unexpected visit from her dad, the argument with Isabella, the night she was almost mugged. Poppy stares intensely as Bea, quietly taking in the information, part of her feels like an idiot, like she’s being selfish. Crying over a broken arm while Bea’s life is completely falling apart. But another part of her feels hurt, hurt that Bea had been concealing all of this. Suppressing all her emotions to the point where Poppy almost blamed her for her fall. 

She understands that her and Bea live in two completely different worlds. But would that be their downfall? Or would they be able to push through their differences and love each other unconditionally? Promise that they will never keep something from the other? Promise to love and commit to each other no matter the consequences? 

Maybe Bea would be able to, but could Poppy? She has more to lose than Bea does, more at stake. But all those doubts perish when Bea gazes at the strawberry blonde, relief flashing across her face. She seems more at ease than when she first came in, like the weight has been lifted off her shoulders and Bea’s problems shouldn’t be her own burden, Poppy knew what she was getting herself into when she decided to be with Bea. No matter how much life threw at them nothing could take away the fact that they were soulmates, who were brought together to balance each other out. 

“Pops?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Poppy moves in, she places a soft, long kiss on Bea’s forehead before fitting herself in Bea’s bigger frame, her arms wrapping around the brunette’s waist, while her head nuzzles into her neck. “You have nothing to apologise for Bea. If anything I should be sorry. I’ve been such a bitch, when I should’ve been there for you. I hate that we’ve come to this. Not being able to tell each other anything.” 

Poppy hears Bea sharply inhale and lifts her head to look at her girlfriend, “Was there something else?” 

One of Bea’s hands moves to stroke the strawberry blonde’s hair, she solemnly nods, “yes. Don’t be mad I didn’t say anything earlier because I would’ve but you were ignoring my calls.” Poppy pushes herself off her girlfriend studying Bea’s remorseful expression. “It’s about Carter. 

“What about him? Did he do something to you?” Poppy brow’s furrow while Bea shakes her head. 

“He approached me the night of the volleyball, the game where you fell.” her gaze drifts down to Poppy’s cast, “he knows about us.” 

Poppy feels the blood rushing to her ears, as her heart thumps powerfully in her chest. ‘This isn’t supposed to happen, no one is supposed to know’ is all she can think, while her face pales and her eyes continuously blink, wondering if she’s heard Bea wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how Poppy but he swore he wouldn’t say anything,” Bea stammers. 

Poppy feels anger flaring up in her body as her eyes shoot daggers at Bea, “what the fuck Bea. You know how many times Carter has been to my house in the last week? And this entire time he fucking knew?” Poppy wildly throws her arms around, face reddening by the second. 

Bea feels anger exploding within her, her face scrunched up in a scowl and she starts yelling, “You were ignoring me. I called. I texted. You couldn’t be bothered to check up on your own girlfriend. So don’t you dare” she points an accusatory finger at Poppy, “blame me.” 

Both girls glare at each other, anger reaching a boiling point, the sounds of their tiny quick breaths fill up the deafening silence in the room. Bea takes a step towards Poppy, who in retort takes a step forward too, and without hesitation both girls move in for the kiss, their tongues already tangled together as they fight for dominance. Bea grabs the Poppy by her hips, pulling her closer to her frame, as she angles her head downwards, pushing her tongue into Poppy’s mouth who responds with small moans, her mouth invitingly opening up, as her hands creep up around Bea’s neck, wrapping around it and pulling her down onto the bed. All the pent up anger, passion, the absence of intimacy is met in the kiss, the girls feeding off each other’s kisses not breaking apart for air, as if they can live off the very feeling they’re giving each other. 

Soon the girls pull apart, their gaze fixated on one another, until they break into a fit of laughter, realising how ludicrous the entire situation is. 

“I’m sorry for snapping. I guess I’m scared about people finding out about us.” 

“Hey.” Bea cups Poppy’s face, her thumbs stroking her jawline as her eyes look intensely into Poppy’s brown doe eyes, “I would never let anything bad happen to you. Carter said himself, he’s not the enemy, he’s just an ass.” Poppy lets out an airy laugh, slightly shaking her head, while Bea returns a small smile, “I’m just glad we’re okay now, I missed you.” Bea leans down and places a chaste kiss on the strawberry blonde’s lips. 

“I missed you too. From now on no more secrets okay? We need to make sure we are healthily communicating with each other because I hate fighting with you.” 

“I know, I guess sometimes I just don’t want to burden you.” 

“Bea, you’re my girlfriend, you could never be a burden to me.” The girls share a long look, one filled with affection and appreciation. “You gonna be okay going home? You can stay here if you want.” 

Bea shakes her head, “your dad will be here soon and I don’t wanna risk it. It’ll be fine, I think.” Bea hesitantly adds. 

‘Well, I’m here if you ever need a getaway. And I’m glad we’ve made up because there is no way in hell we are not going to celebrate your birthday.” 

Bea lets out a loud groan, “Dammit it.” 

“We are going to celebrate your birthday Bea Hughes, you are not getting out of this one so easily.” 

…. 

In the following weeks, Bea and Poppy could not be in a better place, though their relationship was still a well kept secret from the students of Belvoire, or at least the majority of them, the girls back to being madly in love. Since cheer was not really an option for Poppy currently, she began investing into her role of head of the school newspaper more, while offering more hours to volunteer at her local animal shelter. Bea on the other hand was pouring herself into maintaining a healthy work/school balance. Her and Aria began a family night once a week, where her, Aria and Poppy and sometimes Veronica, Zoey and AJ would all get together and cook and play board games for a couple of hours. Although Bea and Poppy recently made up, they almost got into another fight after Bea put down a +4 in Uno and Poppy almost lost her shit. All the while, Poppy and Zoey were planning Bea’s birthday party. Bea was never too  crazy about her birthday but after a lot of petitioning from Poppy, Veronica and Zoey she eventually agreed to a birthday party which would be hosted by Zoey. 

…. 

Soon it’s time for Bea’s birthday and as soon as the brunette wakes up from her slumber she immediately goes onto her phone to see a bunch of birthday messages from all her friends. Poppy of course had wished Bea a happy birthday at exactly 12am and left her girlfriend a very long paragraph including all the reasons she loves her. Zoey leaves a drunken voice message, telling Bea that she’s starting the party early while Veronica gives a short and very mundane message just simply wishing Bea a happy birthday. Bea scrolls through the rest of the birthday wishes thanking everyone for the wishes until a pillow comes flying out of nowhere smashing into her face. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG SIS!” Aria jumps onto Bea, giving her some very brutal birthday beats while also not forgetting to give one for luck. Once she’s done, she jumps off Bea’s bed laughing. Bea massages her arms tenderly, mentally planning her little sister’s demise until Aria brings out a small wrapped box from under her bed, holding it out to Bea. 

“Aria you didn’t have to.” 

“Shut up and just open it.” 

Bea amusingly huffs as she carefully unwraps the bow on the box, before lifting the lid. She lets out a small gasp as tears begin to form in her eyes. “Oh my god Aria.” She endearingly stares at her sister before pulling her in for a massive bear hug, “this is the best present ever thank you.’ 

Aria returns the hug for a few moments until breathlessly cries out, “Bea, you’re crushing my lungs.” Bea instantly lets go, sympathetically rubbing her younger sister’s back, 

“Sorry Aria, but this is perfect, how did you know?” She affectionately stares at the picture frame in her hand, beaming at the photo of a young Bea holding a baby Aria in her arms. 

“Because you love that kind of stuff. Mom helped me with it.” 

Bea visibly tenses, “she did huh?” Aria who is completely oblivious about the severity of the altercation between Bea and her mother, only thinking it was just a petty argument that resulted in them not being on speaking terms, merely nods and flounces to the bathroom to get ready. 

After a birthday breakfast where Bea had to take over from Aria who can barely make a decent pancake batter, the girls sit in the living room reminiscing about the past, laughing at the past memories of one another. They’re interrupted by the sudden creaking of Isabella’s door who gingerly looks out of room before stalking towards the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of water. Bea pointedly avoids Isabella’s presence by directing her complete focus to her younger sister until Isabella’s low voice interrupts the conversation. 

“Happy birthday Bea.” 

Bea ignores her mother, clenching her jaw, furious at her mother’s attempt to simply sweep her previous proclamation about not wanting anything to do with her aside. “Hey Aria, why don’t we go to Zoey’s and then I’ll drop you off at your friend’s. We’ll even take my bike.” 

Aria squeals hugging Bea tightly, “seriously? You’ll let me go on the bike?” 

“Yeah, of course. Now go get your stuff I’ll wait here.” Aria rushes into her room while Bea reluctantly makes her way to the kitchen, where Isabella’s expression is downcast as her long nails tap against her glass. “Aria’s staying over at a friend’s tonight and I’ll be home late so I guess you have the house to yourself. Don’t trash it because remember who’s paying the bills in this house.” Bea turns away but Isabella latches onto her arm, her tone pleading. 

“Please Bea. It’s been weeks.” 

Bea aggressively shrugs her mom’s arm off hers before looking directly into her eyes, a fire blazing in them. “And? I meant what I said. No more handouts. You’re on your own. Tell Aria I’m waiting out front.” With that she walks off without a second thought or glance. 

….

Bea’s birthday is soon in full blast, and as Bea walks into the back yard she can’t help but be in awe of Zoey and Poppy’s collaboration to make the party a hit. The fairy lights carefully placed around the trees, shine brightly, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. A arm slings around Bea’s shoulder pulling her close to the warm body, “Happy birthday bitch!” Zoey places a plastic crown on Bea’s head giving her best friend a kiss on the cheek. As looks up and down appraising Bea’s short red dress, “damn girl, 18 looking good on you already.” 

“How are you already drunk? The party just started.” 

“How are you not drunk yet? It’s your birthday, let loose a little.” Zoey grabs Bea’s hands doing a silly dance before Bea breaks apart her gaze serious. 

“What’s wrong Zoey? I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up.” 

Zoey sighs, slumping her shoulders, her expression dejected, “I asked Veronica if she wanted to come to this party together but she said no.” 

“Aww Zo,” Bea pulls in Zoey for a hug. “I thought you guys really liked each other?” Zoey in retort lets out a bitter laugh.

“I guess it was just about sex for her. But fuck her. I don’t need her to have a good time.” She takes a huge swig of her beer, “besides, tonight is a celebration.” She downs the rest of her drink, exhaling sharply, “I’m gonna go grab another drink.” She makes her way to the drinks stand until Bea is tackled by a hug which almost sends her tumbling to the ground. 

“Happy birthday baby.” Poppy gives Bea a huge kiss on her lips, and when the kiss breaks off, Bea licks her lips a little, tasting the cherry lip gloss from Poppy’s lips. 

“Mmm, thank you,” she pulls Poppy in for another kiss until they’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“Umm I’m here.” Veronica lifts a hand up waving, while a huge wrapped box is fitted to her side, wrapped around her other hand. “Here, happy birthday.” She shoves the box into Bea’s hands who just looks at Veronica gratefully. 

“Wow, thanks Veronica.” Veronica responds with a small hum as Bea begins ripping off the wrapping and then looks back up at Veronica wide-eyed. “Holy shit V, thank you. This is awesome.” She takes out the fresh biker helmet, staring at it in astonishment, a glossy black exterior, with white stripes painted all over it, brings a huge smile to Bea’s face and she gives Veronica a strong one armed hug. 

“You’re welcome.” Veronica beams as she hugs Bea back, “See told you she’ll like it P.” 

Poppy facetiously rolls her eyes, “fine you were right. But” she pulls Bea back to her side giving her girlfriend a quick peck on her lips, “my present is a million times better.” 

“Well duh you’re her girlfriend.” 

“Oh shush Lombardi, you’re just bitter that Zoey isn’t interested in you.” Bea furrows her eyebrows slightly at Veronica who just embarrassingly turns away. “Well let’s go get some drinks.” 

Many of Bea’s friends from the south join the party including Razor who gets a stern (and slightly drunken) telling off from Poppy for giving Bea a knife. Poppy excuses herself to join Zoey and a bunch of others in a game of truth or dare which Bea respectfully declines. As the party carries on, Bea stands at the edge of the living room carefully sipping her beer as she looks around, the music infectiously blaring from the speakers as everyone begins to dance. AJ sidles up to Bea giving her a warm hug wishing her a happy birthday. 

“I was wondering when you would show up.” 

“My dad wanted me to stay for a family dinner since my aunt came over but said I could come to the party once it ended.” 

Bea gives AJ a sincere pat on the back, “Well I’m glad you’re here. Have you spoken to Poppy yet?” 

AJ sheepishly rubs his hand on his neck, a slight frown on his face, “not yet. I’ve been kinda avoiding her but I’ll speak to her and apologize for scaring her.” 

“Alright, go and enjoy the party, I’m just gonna head out for some air.” AJ joins the fray as Bea heads out to the front yard staring at the night sky. 

“I thought you’re supposed to celebrate on your birthday?” 

Bea turns her head slightly to see a smirking Veronica making her way up to her and amusingly huffs, “I just needed some air. Sometimes the music gives me a headache.” 

“Yeah, these parties can be a bit much. But they’re definitely better than the shitty parties from Belvoire’s most finest.” 

“I’ve never been to a Belvoire party before.” 

Veronica exapgreentlying gasps, holding a hand to her chest, “who would’ve thought, Belvoire’s most hated has never been to a Belvoire party,” her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Bea smirks but her eyes look lost in thought until she looks over at the ombre-haired girl, curiosity in her eyes, “so what happened with you and Zoey, I thought you guys liked each other?” 

Veronica clicks her tongue, her expression contemplating, “she just wasn’t what I wanted.” 

“Oh so there’s someone else?” Bea raises an eyebrow at Veronica who just whole-heartedly rolls her eyes in retort. 

“Maybe. But I don’t know if they want me like that.” 

“Why not? You’re a great girl. I’m sure you would make them very happy.” 

Veronica shakes her head slightly, throwing her head back to stare at the sky, “well, I don’t want to ruin what they already have, it seems” her brows knit together as she ponders what word to use, “solid.” 

“Well you’ll find someone I’m sure. I mean I’m grateful for Poppy, I don’t know where I would be without her.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty great isn’t she?” 

“Yeah. She is.” Bea smiles, her eyes twinkling as she thinks about her girlfriend. She shakes out of daze and smiles back at Veronica, “thanks again for the bike helmet.” 

“It’s fine Bea. I know how much you love the thing. I just thought you should look cooler while riding it.” Veronica turns to Bea, her expression pondering, “Why do you love motorcycles so much?” 

“Wait.. have you never ridden on a motorcycle before?” Veronica shakes her head. “Oh my god, it’s the best feeling ever, the wind blowing in your face, the speed. It feels like freedom I guess.” 

“Huh. That’s nice I guess.” 

“You guess? No I won’t have that. Come on.” She grabs one of Veronica’s hands steering her towards her bike that’s parked outside the house. “We’re going for a ride now.” 

“Uhhh are you sober enough for that?” Veronica raises an eyebrow at Bea, “I don’t wanna end up on the news for being the influencer who died while riding on a motorcycle with someone under the influence of alcohol.” 

Bea lets out a guffaw, holding her stomach, “I barely drank anything tonight. Trust me, you’re in good hands.” Veronica gives Bea a nod of okay, “uhh wait, let me tell Poppy we’re going for a ride, I’ll be right back.” She leaves Veronica on the sidewalk making her way into the house in pursuit of her girlfriend. She finds the strawberry blonde in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing her heart out to the music, drunkenly singing along to the words. Bea comes from behind, pulling Poppy’s hips to hers, and leans down to whisper into her ear, “looks like you’re having a good time.” Poppy in response, reaches back, her hands entwining around Bea’s neck as she grinds against her hips. 

“I have to admit, even though I had a hand in this party, Zoey really outdid herself.” 

Bea twists Poppy around placing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips, “i’m glad you’re having fun, you deserve it babe. Veronica is waiting outside for me though. She told me she’s never ridden on a motorcycle before so imma take her for a ride on my bike okay? I’ll be back.” 

“Okay.” 

Poppy slightly freezes when she sees AJ enter the room, Bea follows her gaze, a solemn look on her face, “he wants to talk to you by the way. I think he wants to apologise.” 

“Yeah I guess we should talk,” Poppy sobers up slightly as she releases Bea and stands a little taller, “I’ll catch you later okay, I still need to give you your present.” 

“Okay,” Bea smiles down at her girlfriend before planting a chaste kiss on her lips, “let me know how it goes between you.” 

Poppy nods and makes her way to AJ while Bea moves towards the front yard. When Poppy reaches AJ she gingerly taps him on the shoulder, AJ jumps from the sudden touch, spinning towards Poppy almost dropping his drink in the process. 

“Gah! Sorry Poppy.” He drinks the contents of his cup before placing it on the counter and looks at the strawberry blonde. “So I’m guessing you spoke to Bea huh?” 

“Yeah, we should go somewhere quieter and talk.” AJ follows Poppy out to the corner of the back yard, away from the rest of the partygoers. “So.” 

“So.” 

“I know Bea already spoke to you about the party and stuff but I guess I wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” AJ says surprised. 

“Yeah. What you did was kinda dumb but your heart was in the right place.” AJ lets out a small laugh shaking his head slightly. “I’m just grateful you would protect me like that AJ.” 

“Of course I would Poppy. You’re Bea’s girlfriend. And even if you weren’t you needed help. I hate when guys think they can do whatever they want to girls without facing the consequences.” There was a depth to AJ’s words, like he wasn’t just talking about that one ordeal, Poppy contemplated asking but AJ is just as fickle as Bea if not more, his behaviour and moods are often unpredictable so Poppy made a mental note to speak to Bea about it later. 

“Well it was very brave of you AJ. I’m glad Bea has amazing friends like you.” 

“Well you’re my friend too Poppy, and you deserve to have someone other than Bea to have your back.” 

Poppy turns silent, absorbing AJ’s revelation, were any of her friends as diehard as Bea’s? Would they ever assist Poppy like how AJ did? Poppy begins wondering if her friends were truly her friends at all, as she looks over at AJ, the young sophomore goofily grinning back at her, and she can’t help but smile. AJ is family to her, how Bea is like an older sister to him means that Poppy is also a sister to him too, and family, look out for each other which is something she’s beginning to learn. She tugs AJ close to her, pulling him into a back-breaking hug as she sobs softly into his shoulder, “thank you AJ, for everything.” 

AJ is too stunned to reply, so his hold around Poppy just tightens as the two just bask in the warmth of the embrace, content that they can rely on each other. 

All the while, Bea takes Veronica out for a ride on her bike while wearing her new helmet which was graciously gifted by the ombre-haired girl herself. 

“It looks good on you.” 

“Thanks.” Bea swings her leg around the bike before settling on the seat, she nods her head towards Veronica, “so? Hop on.”

Veronica timidly ambles towards Bea’s bike and climbs behind the brunette as her legs brushes slightly against her hips. 

“Hold on tight okay? We don’t want you falling off.” Bea says looking back, a widespread grin on her face. Veronica moves closer to Bea on the bike, her hands coming around to grip Bea’s stomach, “just a little tighter V.” Veronica squeezes her arms around Bea’s waist, “perfect. You ready?” 

“Let’s go.” 

Bea takes off on the bike, slowly at first but when she feels Veronica’s fingers beginning to relax around her waist, she begins to speed up, the wind breezing against her helmet while Veronica’s hair freely moves against the wind. The streetlights begin blurring as Bea increases the speed, the motorcycle going almost 50 miles an hour, and Veronica closes her eyes, relishing in the freedom Bea promised she would feel. They circle around the block a couple of times until it comes to a stop and Bea takes off her helmet shaking out her curly hair. 

“Oh my god.” 

“So? How was it?” 

“It was fucking exhilirating. Holy fuck Bea. Maybe I should invest in a motorcycle.” 

Bea lets out a laugh, “you definitely should, see I told you it’s amazing.” 

“Yeah yeah you were right.” Veronica pulls out her phone and gasps, “shit Poppy texted like a hundred times, come on it’s time to cut your cake.” 

The girls make their way to Zoey’s kitchen where everyone stands in a circle, eagerly and a few impatient, waiting to cut the cake. 

“There she is!” Zoey screams as the rest of the party goers cheer and Poppy sidles to Bea’s side giving her a kiss on her cheek. Zoey lights the candles as the group of people break into singing happy birthday. Bea pauses before blowing out her candles, a fond look in her eyes as the candles are blown out and eventually the cake is distributed between everyone and Poppy and Bea settle on the couch with Veronica sitting next to Poppy while Zoey and AJ sit next to Bea all silently eating the cake. 

“So how was the ride?” Poppy asks. 

“Awesome. Veronica is now a motorcycle convert.” Bea jests and Veronica rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Hey, I never had anything against motorcycles okay? I’ve just never been on one until tonight. But it was honestly life changing.’ 

The three girls break into a fit of giggles until Poppy reaches over, intertwining her fingers of her non broken hand, with Bea’s whispering in her ear. “Well I think it’s time for your present.” Bea gleams at Poppy as she allows herself to be pulled away from the couch but not before looking back and giving Zoey a sly smirk hinting at the fact Zoey and Veronica are now sitting next to each other. 

Poppy pulls Bea into Zoey’s empty bedroom before pulling Bea into a long passionate kiss. 

“Is this my present?” Bea grabs Poppy’s hips, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“That’s for later babe,” Poppy indulges in Bea’s desires for a few moments, allowing herself to get lost in Bea’s kiss as their tongues tangle together, eliciting a few soft moans from the strawberry blonde. Poppy pushes Bea slightly back, and rests her forehead against Bea’s, “stop distracting me, I gotta give you your present.” 

Poppy brings out her phone and pulls out a picture of an empty apartment, showing the picture to Bea. Bea looks at the photo confused, raising a pointed eyebrow at her girlfriend. “Uhhh I don’t get it.” 

“This is our apartment in New York. I put an early deposit on the place so it’s officially ours.”

read part 8 here 

[blushnote]

hi can i request seungcheol smut where reader rides him and he has like. daddy kink but it’s also soft sex?? where there’s lots of praise to the reader bc she’s just been needing some love and affection..... cheol’s being the sweetest guy and holding her close to him n kissing her everywhere n saying stuff like “so good for daddy” “daddy’s good girl is eager isn’t she?” “tell daddy it feels good” AAAAAA

↳ requested | 2.0k words

↳ seungcheol smut

a/n: okay this literally KILLED me to write… i had to take several breaks from the keyboard because i was burning the hell up. but i enjoyed it thoroughly! 

you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with the urge to cry, the harsh, stinging salts burning against your eyes as you unlock seungcheol’s apartment and slip inside quietly. everything started falling apart at work. you despise the management who expects you to perform flawlessly, the entitled customers baring their teeth to your face as they press their frustrations down on you; even some of your coworkers are greatly testing your patience.

nothing has been going right. you feel like a paper boat that has to endure an endless, wicked trip across the sea. to make matters worse, seungcheol hasn’t been home for a few days, leaving you to do some ‘apartment-sitting’ while he was occupied with his own schedule. he only came home today, right after you left for your closing shift. now, it was nighttime outside, everything cold and slippery as the morning snowfall hardened into black, treacherous ice.

you aren’t sure if seungcheol is asleep or not.

with cautious movement, you remove your button-down coat and slip off your shoes. at the kitchen sink you wash your hands beneath the warm water, hoping to heat them up. no matter what you do, you can’t stop sniffling, making pitiful attempts to suckle back the tears that desire to flow so badly. you keep scrubbing and scrubbing the flesh of your hands, thinking that somehow your sadness will eventually swirl away, deep down the drain.

suddenly, you detect the light sound of footsteps. seungcheol enters the kitchen, though you’re too afraid to face him, so you continue rubbing your hands beneath the warm water.

“i haven’t seen you in a while.” seungcheol greets you happily.  

you feel him gently grasp your hips as his presence fills the space behind you, his chest snuggling against your back. he’s warm and smells of faint vanilla. you yearn to melt into him, especially when his lips touch the base of your shoulder and he’s kissing your skin sweetly.

“how are you, baby?” he murmurs against your ear’s cusp, the depth of his voice igniting a comfortable heat in your abdomen.

“fine,” you respond curtly, unable to peel your gaze away from the sink, “how was your schedule?”

seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately, rather he stiffens slightly behind you, sensing that there’s something a little peculiar about your behaviour. you haven’t even spared him a glance, your voice is uncharacteristically lacklustre, and the manner in which you harshly scrub your hands imbues an air of uneasiness. whatever is it, the situation isn’t sitting right with him.

“my schedule was alright.” seungcheol replies while reaching out to shut off the taps, “but i don’t think you are.”

he then spins you around, attempting to examine your face. it instantly becomes clear to him that you’re upset. your eyes are slightly reddened, akin to glass that’s close to shattering. upon grabbing you a tea towel to dry your skin, seungcheol cups your cheek and tilts your head up, his thumb picking up a cold, pained tear. you can’t even be bothered to wipe your hands properly. you simply rub them out on your tight, black work pants.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” seungcheol urges you calmly. “did something bad happen?”

“i-i don’t know,” you stutter, turning your face into seungcheol’s palm, “i’m kind of having a bad time right now, like, at work and stuff.”

“oh no. i’m so sorry, baby. it must be really difficult.” seungcheol tenderly sweeps his thumb below your eye. “do you wanna talk about it? i’m not even tired. i can listen to you all night.”

you manage a weak shrug. right now, you’re unsure of what you want to express. as much as it might be rewarding to open your muddled heart, you don’t think you’re in the right mind frame for tolerable coherency and articulation. you feel it’s better to wait until tomorrow, when you have the entire day to yourselves. then, you can really mope, maybe even tear into a pint of ice cream if need be.

“n-not right now.” you tell seungcheol.

instead, you long for a different kind of care. swallowing thickly, you look into the soft honey of his eyes and ask him politely: “can you please just kiss me?”

you love seungcheol because you know he’ll be there for you unconditionally. even through his kisses, you can sense the solace and compassion. his warmth is one of the few remedies that effectively heals your wounds. things escalate quickly. you and seungcheol move to the living room where he sits back on the couch. you pop the clasp on your work pants and shuffle the constricting material down your legs, which feels like shedding a second, abysmal skin.

seungcheol instantly reaches for you, pulling you into his lap. he kisses your mouth until it’s as bright as a ruby gem. you love the sharp taste of mint on his tongue, to which you can’t help but suckle on the wet muscle, baring through the messy saliva that wets your chin. seungcheol unbuttons your white blouse. per every inch of skin he reveals, he makes sure to leave a soft, open-mouthed kiss. your fingertips sheath into his shoulders as he pushes your bra down.

“does this feel good, baby?” seungcheol hums, gently squeezing your breast in one hand just before he lightly drags his tongue across the other.

“y-yes, daddy,” you stumble, “fe-feels so good…”

he gently takes your perked nipple between his teeth and tugs. you release a small, delicate cry at the sensation. beneath you, his thick length pokes against your thigh, growing harder from hearing your sweet sounds. he laps over the bud soothingly, and you sigh in bliss. seungcheol then pushes your blouse from your shoulders and removes your bra. his hands are quick to warm to your skin. he strokes your waist, placing gentle bitemarks along your collarbone.

“your body is so soft, baby, so beautiful.” he rumbles in his husky voice. “this is only for daddy to touch, hmm? only i can see you like this, sweetheart. isn’t that right?”

alongside the dizzying heat that infiltrates your head, there’s an intense slick pooling from your core. it soaks through your underwear, even forms a small wet mark on seungcheol’s sweatpants. you’ve never craved his affection to such an unfathomable extent.

“mmhm,” sounds your sultry whine, “o-only you, daddy. i only want you to touch me…”

seungcheol notes that your hips are grinding subtly against his cock. you reposition yourself slightly, attempting to feel that hardness press right against your core. seungcheol chuckles at your neediness. he finds it indescribably endearing, and it only makes him love you more.

“awe, baby,” he whispers in a molten tone by your ear, “are you eager, sweetheart? does daddy’s good girl want to feel my cock deep inside her? will that make her feel better?”

you’re practically drooling at the simple thought. you have to swallow the abundant saliva that gathers in your throat before humming a latent response. the thrumming between your thighs grows stronger, to a point where it inhibits your conversation. you want to reply to seungcheol, but you’re so drenched, so rightfully in need of his attention that your words keep melting on your tongue, like bits of cotton candy. seungcheol suddenly slides his hand between your legs.

“tell me what you need.” he urges, resting his forehead against yours, “you need daddy to touch you here, sweetheart?”

“y-yes,” you whimper as his fingers trace your folds over the fabric, “but not t-too much teasing, daddy – really wanna feel your cock.”

even just from the light grazing of his fingertips, seungcheol finds himself surprised by how thoroughly soaked you are. indulging in his curiosity, he presses his index and middle finger flat against your underwear, feeling the huge wet patch. at the slightest pressure against your clit, you keen out loudly and sense the overwhelmed tears prick your eyes. seungcheol licks his lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever been this wet. in response, his cock impossibly stiffens.

seungcheol chokes out, “you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart,” as he twists your underwear aside, running a finger through the abundant gloss.

“i really need you, daddy!” your face buries into his shoulder, the tears dampening his shirt.

he strokes your swollen clit with his fingertip, to which your hips spasm against his hand.

“pl-please fuck me!” you cry out, feeling seungcheol’s fingers massage circles against your aching bud. “c-can’t wait anymore, daddy! i need you so bad, it hurts…”

seungcheol cups your face, his thumb brushing away the tearful beads.

“are you sure you can take me already, sweetheart?” he asks, locking eyes with you. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you nod doubtlessly in response. “i swear i can, daddy. you won’t hurt me. promise.”

seungcheol smiles at you and nods. you grab the arm of the couch and raise yourself marginally in order to let seungcheol adjust his sweatpants. he pulls them down a bit, then reaches into his underwear. he groans as soon as he wraps his hand around his length. just the mere sight of him creates a new wave of slick to douse your core, and you can’t dissuade your mind from thinking about how wonderful he’s going to feel fully fleshed within you.

evidently, seungcheol is just as aroused as you. the deep red shade to his cock has your stomach performing somersaults, especially as he pumps himself a few times, using the thick, white pearls of cum at his tip like a lubricant. you’re biting your lip, your heartbeat dancing sporadically in anticipation. seungcheol pushes away his black bangs and grins.

“you see how hard daddy is, baby? hm? you’re the only one who makes me feel this way, sweetheart. remember that, okay? now, let’s see my good little girl sink down on daddy’s cock.”

your face flickers with a sweltering heat. you grab seungcheol’s length and position him appropriately. then, with your teeth biting a bruise into your bottom lip, you start lowering your hips. the second seungcheol’s tip pushes against your clit, an unbridled moan escapes your chest. he loves whenever you rub his sensitive head between your folds. he loves watching his cum mix with your arousal, the incredibly obscene, filthy noises that the act preludes.

once you spread your thighs a little wider and proceed to sink down, down, down, seungcheol’s head falls back against the couch, his adam’s apple tensing. he clutches onto your hips with a steely strength, growling a dense array of curses. he’s right – you’ve never been this wet. you’re completely sopping and it drives him to an unprecedented level of insanity. when you’re seated right to the hilt, a shiver wracks down your spine and you need a moment to simply breathe.

“ff-fuck,” seungcheol grunts once you begin to roll your hips, “baby l-looks so pretty like this, stuffed with d-daddy’s cock. mmm, just like that, sweetheart. you feel ah-amazing.”

you slump forward into seungcheol’s chest and wind your arms around his neck. he hits so deep inside of you that you swear you can see his tip press against your abdomen. the sight makes you whine, cry and openly drool, to which seungcheol tenderly kisses the side of your head, whispering gentle praises. his hands slide down to your ass. he grabs you firmly and thrusts up into you, hearing your voice crack. a bolt of pleasure sears through your hot, glimmering flesh.

“mm-more, daddy,” you babble senselessly, each of your stresses being plucked free, “pl-please, g-give me m-more. ff-fuck me and f-fill me, daddy, please!”

“of course, baby,” seungcheol purrs, “daddy is going to take care of you, fill you n’make you feel really good, sweetheart. daddy loves you so much.”

everything starts coalescing into a blur of euphoria and heat. there’s not one part of your brain that ruminates on the tribulations of your workday. instead, you’re focused on how profoundly seungcheol loves you, how he treats you like you’re the most precious artifact in his life. you wish you could stay like this for an eternity, simply partaking in the other’s pleasure, and experiencing true bliss. you hold onto seungcheol even tighter, and let yourself fall into his care.

[ughseoks]

maybe we’re soulmates | pjm

— pairing; jimin x reader

— genre; soulmate!au (kind of?), fluff w/ a dash of angst

— word count; 2.5k

— warnings; slight angst for plot (miscommunication bc jimin doesn’t know how to handle his feelings oop), tooth rotting fluff

— summary; you and your best friend, park jimin, have a late night talk about what soulmates are and if they’re real.

—masterlist —

“Jiminie?” you whispered into the darkness of the room, the soft pillow rustling beneath your cheek as you turned to look at your best friend.

“Hmm?” he mumbled back, exhaling softly before shifting to meet your gaze, “What’s up, _____?”

“Do you— do you believe in soulmates?” your voice was gentle as you spoke, the moonlight from the window dancing across his honeyed skin and sparkling in his deep brown eyes. Untamed locks of his platinum blonde hair stuck out every which way, framing his face as he turned away to stare back up at the ceiling.

“I’ve never really thought about it. Do you?” his voice was as smooth as honey, practically dripping as it floated melodically through the silent night air.

“I love the idea of it, but it’s probably too good to be true,” you sighed, fiddling with a loose string on the blanket that was keeping you warm, “Sometimes, though, when I’m up really late and lost in thought, I daydream about what it would be like to have a real soulmate. Somebody who you’re meant to be with, ya know? Somebody who— who will always be by your side, no matter what happens. Somebody who will love you unconditionally,” you paused for a moment, casting your gaze downwards, “But it always leaves me sad when I come back down and face reality, because I know that the likelihood of that happening is nearly impossible. A part of me loves the idea of them, but another part of me believes that it’s too good to really be true.”

Jimin laid silently for a while, so silent that you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. The minutes dragged on, and you began to drift off unintentionally, your mind floating calmly in the limbo between consciousness and the dream world.

“I don’t think it is.” Your lashes fluttered open as his voice woke you back up, a small smile gracing his features.

“Why not?” you asked sleepily, turning to lay on your side so you could fully face him.

“I mean, everything you said describes our friendship, doesn’t it?” he shrugged, “Maybe we’re soulmates. After all, I don’t think that soulmates are reserved only for romantic relationships. I think that your best friends can be your soulmates too.”

“Oh,” you exclaimed softly, unable to contain the smile that bloomed on your face, “Yeah, maybe we are.”

Jimin gave you a lopsided grin as he reached up and ruffled your hair, a giggle escaping your lips as you squirmed around.

“Jiminie, I don’t want my hair to be messy like yours!” you laughed, swatting his hand away playfully before he could tangle your hair any further.

He simply laughed in response, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before you could push him away. “Goodnight, soulmate.”

“Jiminie!” you yelled as you crashed into your best friend from behind, pressing your face into his back. His chest shook with laughter underneath your tight embrace.

“Hey there, _____,” he covered your hands with his own, squeezing them softly as you breathed in his scent, “Excite to see me?”

“Shut up, I missed you more than usual today,” you mumbled into his back, pulling away after a final squeeze to his torso, “Wanna grab some ice cream?”

“Is that even a question?”

You were talkative the whole way there, demanding that Jimin tell you all about his first day as a trainee. However, the second that the two of you sat down with your ice cream, you became unusually quiet, picking at the dessert with your spoon awkwardly.

“What’s wrong, _____?” he asked softly, giving you a worried look as you cast your gaze downward.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“What do you think—” you paused for a moment, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “What do you think happens when you lose your soulmate?”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly the question I was expecting,” he half-laughed, cutting himself off when he noticed the seriousness on your face, “Why, are you worried that you’re gonna lose me?”

You nodded.

“Is this about what happened yesterday?”

You nodded again, unable to meet his concerned gaze. Obviously, you were ecstatic that Jimin’s idol career had taken off. He and his members had worked so, so hard for so long, and they were beginning to get every bit of recognition that they deserved. But with that fame came forth individuals with less than pure intentions for your best friend and the rest of the members. Somehow, one of the fans— if they could even be called that— had managed to get Jimin’s phone number, calling him again and again until he managed to change it. Although no explicit threats had been made towards him, the lack of security and privacy concerned you.

A lump formed in his throat as he reached over and took a hold of your hands, pulling them towards the center of the table and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I promise that you won’t ever lose me. The boys and I all know what we signed up for, and even though it can be scary, BigHit has plenty of security measures in place to keep us safe. What happened was freaky, yes, but I wasn’t in any danger. I know you worry about me a lot, but trust me, _____, nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

“Promise?” you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, a single drop leaving a wet trail down your cheek.

“I promise.”

Jimin never broke his promise about being hurt, but there’s more than one way to lose a soulmate.

And it was even more painful than you ever could’ve imagined.

Loud laughter traveled through the thin wall between your apartment and the one next door, once again distracting you as you attempted to study for your upcoming test. Groaning, you shoved your head into your hands, just about ready to give up on everything. You reached out for your phone to text Jimin about how annoyed you were, only to stop yourself mid-reach. A wave of sorrow hit you like a slap to the face, settling deep in your gut before slowly bubbling over into anger as it rose into your chest.

About a month ago, Jimin had just…. shut you off. He’d begun to hang out with Hannah (who, conveniently, was your neighbor) instead of you, inviting her to the things the two of you used to do together. Every time you ran into him by chance, he was nearly the same as he was before he cut you off, but you could tell that he didn’t have that unique spark in his eye. Instead he looked…. sad, almost. You had no idea why he’d decided to drop you out of nowhere, but all you could do was try to keep on living without your soulmate by your side as best as you could.

Clenching your fists, you shoved your chair backwards and stomped out of your apartment, knocking on your neighbor’s door hard and fast.

“_____?” Jimin’s face fell as he took in your angry expression, your shoulders tensing up when you saw Hannah standing in the living room over his shoulder, “W-what’re you doing here?”

“I’m trying to study for a test I have tomorrow, do you think you two could quiet down a bit?” you said as calmly as you could, trying to keep your face neutral. Tears were already pushing at the back of your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment at the sight of your best friend with someone else. Before Jimin could respond, you stated a quick “Thanks” and turned to go back inside your apartment, leaving him standing speechless in Hannah’s doorway.

A few minutes later, your phone dinged, a message from Jimin showing up on your home screen.

[Jiminie, 9:08pm]: hey, can we talk?

[You, 9:15pm]: why

[Jiminie, 9:15pm]: i can tell that something’s up and i want you to talk to me

[Jiminie, 9:16pm]: i feel like you never do anymore

[You, 9:18pm]: there isn’t anything for us to talk about. you made it this way, not me

[Jiminie, 9:18pm]: please, _____, just meet me at our spot in five

[Jiminie, 9:27pm]: _____?

[You, 9:29pm]: fine

You threw your phone onto your bed as the tears began to slip down your face and onto your notebook. The writing bled where the salty drops soaked into the soft pages, words and numbers mushing together into an inky mess.

When you heaved open the heavy metal door, you saw Jimin sitting on the edge of the familiar rooftop, his legs dangling over the ledge as his platinum waves blew in the wind. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps forwards, calling out to him once he was within speaking distance.

“Can you come over here? You know I’ve always hated when you sat on the ledge like that.” Jimin used to laugh when you told him that, but not this time. This time, he turned to you with tears streaming down his face, not even trying to wipe them away as he swung his legs back onto the rooftop before walking forwards. Stopping when he was only a few inches away from you, he stared down into your eyes as if he was trying to read what was going on inside of your head.

“What’s up, _____?” his voice broke as he asked the familiar question; the same one he always asked when he was concerned about you, but didn’t want to sound forceful.

“I think you already know, Jiminie,” you cast your gaze towards your feet, scared that if you looked into his eyes your heart might shatter into a million little fragments.

“But the thing is, I don’t, _____,” he pleaded, “I don’t know what’s up with you and I don’t know why you pulled away from me—”

“I pulled away from you? Really?” your head jerked up and you took a step backwards in shock, unable to believe what you were hearing, “If anybody pulled away, it was you, Jimin.”

“What do you mean?” He gulped, already knowing what you were talking about but too scared to admit it out loud.

“Ever since you met Hannah, it’s like-- it’s like I’m not even important to you anymore! You do everything with her. Everything. And you know what? I let it slide! I acted like everything was fine, until I heard you talking about her at practice the other day when I was bringing everyone lunch. The door to the room was cracked open, and I know it was wrong, but I heard you Jimin. I heard you.”

“_____, I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“You said she was your soulmate, Jimin!” you screamed, bringing your hands up to hold your head as the tears began to stream down your face, “You were talking to the members and you said ‘She’s my soulmate.’ And I know that you sure as hell weren’t talking about me, because if you were, you wouldn’t have kicked me out of your life a month ago.”

“_____, I—”

“No, just— just save it,” you snapped, your voice softening to a barely audible whisper when you spoke your next words, “That was our thing, Jiminie. You promised me I’d never lose you, my soulmate, yet here we are.”

Jimin looked desperate, the pain showing in his eyes as tears formed wet tracks down his cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you, _____.”

“Then why?” you croaked, the pain almost too much to bear, “Why did you abandon me for her? I- I love you, Jiminie. I love you so, so much, and in more than a ‘just friends’ way. I love you so much it hurts, and I could handle it before, I can’t when you won’t even talk to me anymore. You love her, not me.”

“But I don’t, _____!” he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t love her, don’t you see that? It was never her, _____. It was you. It’s always been you. And I wasn’t talking about Hannah the other day. I was talking about you. I know that we say we’re soulmates all the time, but that time I— I meant it in a different way than before.”

“W-what?” it felt like your breath had been stolen from your lungs, “I don’t understand. If you love me, why have you ignored me this past month?”

“Because I’m an idiot, _____,” he shook his head, guilt and regret pooling deep in his stomach, “I- I never thought that you would like me back, so I decided that distancing myself from you would save us both from that pain. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The silence following his confession weighed down on you like a blanket, tension thick in the air before you finally broke the spell.

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you,” you shook your head in disbelief, “But you aren’t the only idiot. We’ve both been kinda stupid about this.”

“But mostly me,” he interjected, taking another step closer to you, his socked toes bumping into yours.

“Yeah, mostly you,” you smirked and stretched up to press a kiss to his lips, butterflies filling your stomach as your lips moved against each other. You ran your hands up his shoulders and rested them on the sides of his face while his rested on your hips, holding you close to him.

“Yeah, mostly you,” you smirked and stretched up to press a kiss to his lips. Butterflies exploded in your stomach when his hands made their way to your hips, tugging you closer to him. Your hands slid up his shoulders to rest around his neck; his lips were soft as they moved against your own, the kiss innocent and sweet.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

When you finally pulled away, his grin was the biggest you’d ever seen it, eyes squished up into half moons as a result. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Park,” you warned, squishing his cheek cutely before taking a few steps backwards, “I still need to study for my test tomorrow. Let’s talk more in the morning, okay?”

“O-okay,” he stuttered with a blush on his cheeks, watching as you opened the door to go back down to your apartment. Once the door clicked shut behind you, he uttered the same words that he’d whispered on the night he realized just how in love with you he was.

“Goodnight, soulmate.”

— a/n; thank u for reading! i hope u enjoyed this. i honestly don’t really like the way it ended (i got really impatient i’m sorry) but i love the beginning. like, a lot. so please excuse the shitty rushed writing & plot near the end and savor the beauty of best friend!jimin sharing a bed with u and talking about soulmates!

i know i said that i’d post a spidergukk fic today but uh. i kinda wanted to do this instead. so i did. anyways it’ll get here eventually soooo stay on ya toes

— masterlist —

© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[tinywooniverse]

Monsta X reaction to their crush saying “i wish i could feel loved for once when i’m in a relationship”

requested: yes!!

a/n: these are gonna be in all lowercase bc like,,, i’m lazy and i don’t like to change my settings anymore. (gifs are not mine)

———————————

here you are, standing at his door with tears cascading down your face. he opens the door, rubbing his eyes signaling that he had been about to fall asleep. however seeing you in your state of grief had immediately woke him up.

“oh were you sleeping. i’m sorry i’ll just go-” you say through sniffles and short breaths.

“no don’t go,” he says quickly but then gains his composure, “just- just come in you can sleep here tonight it’s late and you don’t look like you’re fine.”

“no seriously i don’t wanna-”

“you came here for a reason right?”

“yes.”

“then come in,” he says, coaxing you into the house. it felt like the walk of shame for you. running to him every time you felt like this was stupid and you knew you shouldn’t do it but you couldn’t help it.

you both silently settle in the living room, making yourselves comfortable before you calmly speak.

“i broke up with him.”

“what? why?” he speaks, trying his best to sound surprised. this was his crush after all. watching you be in relationships with anyone that wasn’t him was a bummer and so the fact that you were now single was good for him.

“because he bailed again. he’s been ditching me for a month. it’s like we weren’t even in a relationship. do you understand that? am i just being stupid?”

“no i understand and it’s not stupid it’s very valid.” he says moving a bit closer to her.

“i just-”

“you just what?”

“i just wish i could feel loved for once when i’m in a relationship.”

shownu:

“i can assure you that you will be. you just have you find the right person,” he says pulling you in for a hug. he felt you cling to him as if your life depended on it.

“what about you,” you ask as you release you hold on him. he cocks his head to the side hoping you’re meaning what he thinks you mean. a simple “huh” is all he could manage, “would you love me if we were in a relationship?”

“would i love you?”

“yes, would you love me?”

“i would love you to the end of the earth. i would love you to the moon and back five billion times and maybe make a trip to the sun even though that would be certain death but that’s what love makes you do. i would love you like tomorrow was nonexistent. i would love you more than my heart would allow. i already-” he rambles stopping himself before he embarrasses himself even more. his cheeks turn a light shade of pink and turn forward so that you could see his face.

“you already what?”

he continued to face forward not speaking a word. you just lean over and lay your head on his shoulder

“it’s okay you don’t have to say anything. i heard everything i needed to hear.”

wonho:

“you deserve so much better than him and everyone that knows you knows that. if he doesn’t make you feel loved i can promise you that someone else will.”

“are you sure about that? i mean every single relationship so far has just showed me the exact opposite,” you say sighing heavily.

“i don’t think you understand. there are so many people who love you unconditionally and even more so. those guys you’ve been dating were shitty anyways.”

“oh please, who would love me. i’m a mess.”

“me silly.” he says smiling. he was bold about this with the intent of both not hiding his feeling until the next guy came and stole your heart and also getting his point across.

you look at him with your eyes glazed over and hug him. he kisses the top of your head as you cry yet again.

“thank you.”

minhyuck:

“fuck him you got me,” he says half joking, half telling the truth.

“minhyuck seriously,” you ask kind of offended that he made this a time to joke. of course you knew minhyuck was only trying to lighten the mood but right now you needed him to be serious. he was the one you came to during this hard time after all, “i’m just gonna go.” you go to get up and minhyuck pulls you back, holding you.

“i know i joke around a lot but i was being somewhat serious you know.”

“what do you mean?” you say pulling back.

“well i didn’t wanna confess this way because you’re not fully yourself and your judgement could be impaired but i mean-”

“i’m sad about a break up, not drunk. get to the point.”

“i like you and i think you deserve the best boyfriend in the world and like,,, i’m not that but i’m willing to wait until you realize that i’m better than all the assholes you’ve dated,” he said all in one breath.

“i see.”

kihyun:

he would start setting his own room up for you to sleep in. it was in his nature to coddle people but for you it was totally different because you know,,, he liked you and only wanted to make you happy so the extra coddling was needed. he had sent you off with some of his clothes so that you weren’t sleeping uncomfortably and had waited for you. you waddle in and climb into the bed as he tucks you in, kissing you on the forehead.

“remember, if you don’t feel like anyone loves you just know that i do,” he says and you nod your head snuggling deeper in the comforter. he walks to the door and turns the light out.

“kihyun,” you say quickly. he looks back, his soft eyes meeting your silhouette, “stay here.”

he’s in no place to say no. he’s tired and the couch will hurt his back. he walks back and climbs into bed with you. a beat of silence passes before you turn over.

“i love you too.”

hyungwon:

he blankly stares at you.

“tons of people love you y/n,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ridiculous to even say that.”

“in a relationship hyungwon. did you not get it when i said it? i want to feel loved in a relationship. like i want a boyfriend that’s not gonna treat me like shit.”

“you could always have that you know?”

“oh yeah, with who?” you ask looking skeptically at him. he goes to open his mouth and say something but instead picks up his tea and takes a long sip. you look shocked, hyungwon was usually up front with you about a lot of things and he’s never gone as far as doing that dumb shit. he does it to everyone when has something to say but wants to avoid it before shit hits the fan. this was his first time actually going there with you.

“hyungwonnie,” you say as he sets his cup down. you slide it more towards you so that you could stop him if he tried again, “is there something you’re not telling me.”

“yes but right now is not the right time so if you don’t mind i’ll just get going to bed now.”

“okay well then i’m coming with you,” you say crossing your arms.

“oh you want the bed? i’ll take the couch then.”

“no i want you,” you say immediately realizing that you definitely may have outed yourself, “AND i won’t leave you alone until you tell me what you want to tell me.”

“okay well if that’s the case then it’s me. i like you. i’m caught. now i’m gonna go to-”

“well it looks like i’m going with you after all.”

he just looks stunned.

jooheon:

after your teary confession, you and jooheon go up to him room to cuddle. it was a common occurrence between the two of you. when he was sad, cuddles. when you were sad, cuddles. you two just resort to cuddling every time you’re together honestly. it was completely silent now. you’re just laying in his bed. only soft breathing could be heard.

“you know i love you right,” jooheon says, breaking the silence. you giggle and nod your head, snuggling closer to him, “even though i really don’t want to.”

“jooheon?” you say untangling yourself from him, sitting up with a hurt look on your face. of course you were probably just being sensitive but this felt like an attack, like he was kicking you while you were down.

“i don’t think you get how much hurt i would save myself if i didn’t feel this way about you. i’m the one you come to after a shitty little boy does this to you. i’m the one you end up cuddling. why am i always the example huh? why is it always “i wish all guys were like you honey” and not “i want you jooheon”? it’s so hard loving you the way i do and you know that,” he rants avoiding eye contact. you look shocked. you didn’t know that he felt like this. jooheon was a fine young man who had his choice and you for sure thought he had pushed you to the furthest corner of the friend zone.

“i didn’t kno-”

“you didn’t know what y/n? you didn’t know that i love you more than every word in every sentence in every book on every shelf in every bookstore and library in the world? or that i love you more then every word sang in every chorus, verse, bridge and hell even every back up vocal track in every love song ever written? or that i love you more than every sparkle in your eye that shows when the right amount of light catches your eye which is all the damn time by the way? or that i ask myself if i could love you more than i do today and the answer is always no but what happens, the next day rolls around and i love you far more than i did the day before? i love you so much and you have proven time and time again that you don’t love me back but guess what my dumbass can’t do? unlove you. and that shit hurts a lot.” he say with tears stinging his eyes. he didn’t wanna cry in front of you so he just got up and walked towards the door.

“honey you just said you loved me and now you’re leaving. why?”

he sighs and walks back, sitting at the edge of the bed putting his hands d over his face. you wrap your arms and legs around his torso.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t know. but i assure you the feelings are mutual.”

changkyun:

he would let you cry your sadness off, offering physical comfort in the form of hugs and cuddles and babying you. he wasn’t really sure of what else to do other than that and once he found the right words to say he looked over and saw you sleeping. he carried you to his room and tucked you in, grabbing his notebook and a pen before quietly exiting the room. he sits on the couch and writes until his head spins before falling alseep.

the next morning you wake up. by yourself. in changkyun‘s room. i look around as if you woke up in a different dimension before getting up and tiptoeing downstairs. you hear changkyun in the kitchen and sit on the couch going to grab the remote when your eye catches his notebook. you’re never one to invade his privacy and blah blah blah but this page had your name written all over it. you were curious. and when you’re curious nothing stops you. you pick up the book and begin to read.

‘y/n i love you so damn much it’s pathetic’

‘...i love you so much i wanna freaking do a head dive off those freaking steps. it would hurt much less than this feeling...’

‘...i love you so much if you told me you wanted to be a fairy princess i would sure enough sit in a field of stuffy ass flowers and make you stupid flower crowns to match every outfit you own...’

‘... this is annoying as hell but i imagine waking up one day in the future to you blasting your favorite songs and getting ready for the day..’

‘... also annoying but i’ve already imagined how i would proposed...’

‘... imagine being married to the absolute love of your life...’

when you finish you’re blushing. you set the notebook down and quickly turn on the television as you hear changkyun’s footsteps coming toward you. he walks in with breakfast and is shocked to see you up. he hands you a plate and sits down next to you and from the corner of your eye you see him eyeing the open notebook

“flower crowns huh?”

he just looks wide eyed and flustered.

“maybe right now is a good time to take myself up on that head diving off the stairs thing,” he says.

(i hope i did well. i know some of the them a lot shorter than i expected. and i also took long i’m so sorry)

[writing-freestyle]

model!irene

i haven’t updated in so long, i’m so sorry!

when she first became a model, people were like… that face can't be real. it's photoshop or smth, it's so perfect

BUT NOPE

irene is literally just that beautiful

models for cosmetics, not really clothes too much

but when she does model for clothing lines, whatever she wore sold out in under five minutes

no one believes she’s a day over 20 when they first see her, they're always like…. ur either drinking straight outta the fountain of youth or ur really just that young

but they stop saying that when they see her with newbie model!yeri, because….. she's a whole mom

babies the hell outta yeri, and even though yeri is like… irene, pls…. i’m an adult

she still eats the crust-free, dinosaur shaped sandwhiches irene brings her with the biggest smile on her face

and that smile is the reason irene babies her so much

irene lives to make other people happy, and it's this trait that makes you fall super hard for her

ur an employ at the company irene is signed with, and it's not like ur in her immediate team or anything like that

u just recieve requests from people that want to work with the agency’s models, and it's ur job to sort out the request and either assign them a model if they haven't specified, or make sure the requests reach the desk of the specific model’s team

and it's a really good job! u like it, especially since an organized environment is what you love most in the world, and that's basically what ur doing for a living

but sometimes it gets stressful

bc the agency is so huge, it requires everyone to be on their a game at all times, and since it's basically just you doing the sorting, it can be…. overwhelming

and especially in the few months or so before spring is when it gets real hectic

because everyone wants models for photoshoots with blooming flowers and falling cherry blossoms

which you’ve handled before, it should be no big deal, and this year should be no different

but for some reason

when you go to work one day

you just….. can't

it's not like you sit at your desk and do nothing, but it's more like you're trying to do things, but keep making mistakes you’ve never made before

when it's an hour before your lunch break, you send out two stacks of requests, one for irene’s team, and one for seulgi’s team, because those two usually are more opinionated on which jobs they take on, and they'll probably need more time than yeri, joy, and wendy combined to decide

and ur like ‘cool, the requests are on their way, i need to stop stressing and chill a little, i got this.’

but right as you say this, an intern walks into ur office and looks kinda…. concerned?

and u know it's the intern from seulgi’s team, so ur like…. what happened with the requests, is something wrong?

and the intern kinda mumbles at first cause they don't want you to be upset, but eventually you make out that they're trying to tell you that…. irene and seulgi’s request still haven't been recieved

wat

“what do you mean they weren't recieved?”

“like… we got the message that we’d be recieving them today at 11:00 am, but….. we never got it.”

and you just snap because

oh my god

this is a major mistake, and you're going to be the one to take the blame

you tell the intern that you're going to fix it, and to go tell both seulgi’s and irene’s teams that it’ll be there soon

they nod and leave, and you begin to scavenge through all the scrunched up and tossed away notes to try and decipher which brand wanted who and what day and time and the benefits they offer with each job

and it's literal hell, because all your notes are so vague, because you immediately wrote them down on the official request forms for irene and seulgi so you wouldn't have to rewrite it later and waste time

without even realizing, lunch is long gone and it's nearing time for you to get off work

but there are at least ¼ of the requests missing from each girls’ pile and you're full on sobbing bc….. this sucks

and you're so stressed that you don't even realize someone entered your office until they timidly knock on the surface of your desk

you're somewhere between shocked and scared when you see it's irene, because a) you didn't even know she knew where your office was? and b) was she there to yell at you or fire you? because you will cry even harder if that's the case

but nah

before you can do anything, irene sets down a plastic container on your desk and pulls out a fork and a bottle of water from her purse and puts those in front of you as well

and that's when she really gets on ur fucking uwus, because she opens the container to reveal some crust-less, dinosaur shaped sandwiches with a fruit cup in the shape of stars on the side

“you didn't come out of your office all day, and the delivery guy didn't have your usual order when he stopped by the office earlier, so i….”

she kinda motions to the food, and looks down sheepishly, and ur all sorts of “wat” on the inside bc????

is irene a literal angel? probably

you thank her profusely and tell her she didn't have to do this, but she just gives you the softest smile and goes:

“i heard about what happened today. it's not your fault, but you're probably kicking yourself like it is. i just wanted to make sure you're not beating yourself up over this, because it makes me sad when you're stressed like that.”

irene has to leave shortly after that because she has a night shoot for this brand that came out with a new line of evening gown’s and irene was begged to model for it

but she makes sure to leave her number on your desk and tells you to text her if you're ever stressed and need someone to talk to

or if you wanna go on a taco date with her, but she says that part in her head bc she's like…. it's too soon for me to be this forward with them

sure enough, you do text irene a few days later, but it's not cause you're stressed

you actually ask her out to dinner to repay her for her kindness earlier

irene, in a meeting with her team, recieving ur text asking her out on saturday

manager: “what about this quick photoshoot for armani on saturday bc they're a top brand, and we really shouldn't say no to that??”

irene, feeling her heart ready to burst out of her chest: “no, i’m going to be living my dreams on saturday, k, bye :)”

you let irene pick the restaurant, and you thought it was gonna be fancy and expensive, bc, hello, super famous model??

but instead she goes “i know this taco truck”

if you weren't already in love with her at that point, YOU SURE AS HELL ARE NOW

so, you guys are sitting on this park bench at 11 pm

with four plates of tacos between the two of you

and you guys are telling stories and cracking jokes, and it’s honestly the best date either of you have ever been on

and at the end, irene just kinda lays her head on your shoulder and sighs so happily

“thank you for this, it’s been awhile since i’ve had this much fun.”

“maybe we could do this again sometime, then?”

irene suddenly snaps her head up to look at you with wide eyes, and is like “SERIOUSLY? OMG, CAUSE I HAD SUCH A GREAT TIME BUT I DIDN’T KNOW IF YOU HAD FUN TOO!”

“irene.... ur literally the human embodiment of happiness, i can’t be anything but in a good mood when i’m around u.”

something in irene just melts, and she’s like so happy that she pulls you in this giant hug and just starts to ramble about how happy she is and

and then she’s just like “i’m so happy you had fun, because i really like you, like a lot, and i would’ve been real sad if you didn’t have fun”

you just giggle and go “i like you too, okay? you can stop being so nervous now.”

and she relaxes and smiles, grabs your hand, entwine it with hers, and the two of you continue to talk and get to know each other even more

and that’s how you two start dating

y’all are the mom couple, y’all already knew this was coming

cutting fun shapes into yeri’s food so she thinks it's more exciting to ear her fruits and vegetables? check.

making sure joy doesn't break that vvv expensive vase while y’all are visiting locations for potential photoshoot’s? check.

helping wendy translate her thoughts properly when she’s too flustered to do so? check.

putting bandaids onto seulgi’s scrapes when she attempts to do some sport and takes it a little too seriously? check.

you two are just the resident angels, and everyone looks up to you two?? aspiring to be as great as you and irene are?

you two are really making the world a better place, bless

and you two take really good care of each other too! always making sure the other is eating properly and if the other is stressed that they have a shoulder to cry on or a person to love them unconditionally

it's gr8, and the rv members are so happy that irene has found someone with just as much love in their heart as she does, and isn't afraid to tell irene she's the love of their life every day

concept: irene has now taken a habit to eating lunch in your office. occasionally, the other rv members join too, but irene comes every day at noon with two sets of food and the biggest smile on her face. she always says that you're the best part about coming to work now.

[cabinofimagines]

Power of Persuasion

ask : #48 & #51 for some angsty Valdez please ?

prompts :

48. "I made a mistake."

51. "I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking."

shit this left me shook af like I nearly cried

also, I know I put a lot of Y/N and no pronouns because I want it to be as gender neutral as possible, unless requested for otherwise. I'm hERE FOR ALL THE GENDER IDENTITIES YALL DECIDE TO CHOOSE I LOVE YALL FUCKERS OKAY !!

warnings : fuckin Valdez tears, and hopefully angst bc I suck at writing lmaooooo

•

"I made a mistake."

Leo's voice shook, his voice couldn't stay steady, even if he tried. His head hung, dark curls falling into his deep brown eyes. His right leg bounced uncontrollably, and his hands were restless, shaking. He balled up his hands, fists covered in licks of white flame.

Leo has never, he's never-- his thoughts escaped him, as he chewed on his bottom lip, refusing to rise his head in fear of crying. A soft hand found its way into his hair, playing with it to attempt to calm the fiery Latino down. "Leo, you have to explain to Y/N. You can't just-" Piper stopped, racking her brain for the right words.

Leo turned forcefully, glassy eyes shocking Piper, sending a chill down her spine. She's never seen Leo like this, and she didn't know where her usually happy best friend was. This wasn't him. "How am I supposed to-" A soft cry escaped his lips, as he forced his way into Piper's arms, burying his face in Piper's arms. Piper tensed, her kaleidoscope eyes looking at her friend in worry. "Piper, I don't know what to do." He croaked, and Piper's heart broke into millions of pieces.

He loved you. It was, It was purely a mistake, Piper knew that for a fact. She didn't know much about relationships, but she does know a lot about love, and if any two people loved each other unconditionally, it was you and Leo. "Hey-" Piper cooed, picking up her best friend's tear stained face in her hands. Wiping his tears away, Leo sniffled, looking at Piper expectantly. "You're gonna get Y/N back, okay? I'll help you. You don't have to cry-" Leo chewed on his bottom lip, head ducking again. "Valdez- Look at me." Piper, with her index finger, pushed Leo's chin up once more so he looked at her. "You don't have to cry. We're gonna get Y/N back for you, okay?" She nodded, and Leo mimicked her action.

"Okay." He responded softly, and Piper's heart wrenched in her chest. Leo chuckled lightly, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "I probably look like a bitch." Leo joked, but his eyes averted to the ground. Piper grasped his shoulders, the action enough to make him look at her.

"Stop it." Piper warned, and Leo sighed, sitting up, wiping the remaining tears from his red eyes.

"Okay." Leo said quietly, and Piper, unsatisfied with his response, sat back. Eyebrows knit together, she pursed her lips, staring blankly at the opposite wall in Bunker Nine.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Piper finally asked, ripping her gaze away from the wall. Leo furrowed his eyebrows, eyes burning from the crying he just went through. He tugged a calloused hand through his hair, holding the dark curls back and out of his face.

"I, I don't know. I was hoping you'd-" Leo chewed on his bottom lip again, closing his eyes. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked, a hint of concern in his wavering voice. Clueless, Leo leaned back, looking at his best friend.

"Obviously get Y/N back. You guys mean a lot to each other, right?" Leo nodded in response solemnly. Piper tapped her chin, before smiling at Leo. "I know. Go talk to Y/N." She said happily. Leo frowned.

"I could've came up with that." He complained, heart wrenching in his chest. "What would I even say? What if I do something dumb- Piper I can't." He froze, as Piper rested her hand on his shoulder.

"You'll be fine. I have an idea. Just, go-" Piper pulled him up, and shoved him towards the door. Leo purposely skidded to a stop, work boots squeaking on the floor.

"What?! Now?!" Leo squeaked, rubbing his reddened eyes. Piper nodded, leading him towards the door.

"It's more genuine this way. Besides, Y/N is more likely to take you back since you look like a mess." Piper joked, and Leo groaned.

"McLean, are you serious-"

"Go Leo!" With a shove, Leo was out near camp. He frowned, rubbing his arm sheepishly, as he walked towards camp. Head ducked, he chewed on his bottom lip again, avoiding the eyes and whispers of many.

"Leo!" A familiar voice called, and he looked up, to see Percy, talking to you. Leo's heart wrenched in his chest, as he tried to keep it together.

"Um, can I-" Leo's voice cracked, and Percy sensed something was wrong. Leo cleared his throat. "Can I talk to Y/N. Alone please?" Leo asked, and Percy nodded, patting Leo's shoulder before he walked off. You stared at your former boyfriend, arms crossed, as he stood sheepishly.

You told yourself you weren't going to break. Not for another guy. Not again. Leo looked up, the whites of his eyes red, for reasons you knew, but didn't want to picture. "Listen, Y/N-" You stopped him.

"What could you possibly want?" You asked, harsher then you intended to. Your heart broke as he duck his head quickly at the response.

"I made a mistake, okay?" His voice came out as a whimper, and you stood, releasing your crossed arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Leo cursed, not able to find the right words. Your expression softened. That's one thing you love about Leo. He never knew how to express his feelings, so when he did, it was genuine.

"You still care." You muttered, and he looked at you, eyes watery. "I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." You continued, but you stopped.

You forgot why, why you two even broke up.

And for some reason, you didn't want a reminder.

"Of course-" Leo fiddled with his fingers, before sighing. "Of course I still care, Y/N. I-" He stopped again, cursing, this time in Spanish, words you knew all too well. You couldn't help but let a chuckle escape your lips. "Gods-" Leo covered his face. "You're laughing at me!" He exclaimed, and you laughed, genuinely this time.

"I'm not!" You laughed again, and Leo peaked at you through his fingertips, his face red, the ghost of a smile spreading across his face.

"You are!" He exclaimed again, and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his torso. Kissing his hands that covered his face, Leo pulled his hands away, looking at you, confused. "You don't, hate me?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"I couldn't remember why I was mad at you. And I don't want a reminder. I want us to be together. Leo and Y/N, like it should be." You spoke, and Leo smiled, wiping his watery eyes with the back of his hand.

"Jeez, Y/N. I cried for no reason?" He laughed, and you frowned, taking his face in your hands.

"Leo, you cried?" You asked, and he looked at you sheepishly.

"Yeah, a lot." He croaked, sniffling afterwords. A laugh escaped his lips again, and he looked at you sincerely. "I love you, Y/N." He chuckled, and you smiled.

"I love you too Leo." You responded, before pulling your boyfriend into a soft, passionate kiss.

Leo wondered how Piper helped him at all, he didn't even see her around when you and him got back together.

But Piper did indeed assist him.

Charmspeak was all she needed to use to convince him to talk to you.

•

// I cried when Leo cried and I fucking wrote this //

- jj

[hrina]

Holy Pt. 2 {Luke Hemmings Smut}

PAIRING: Luke/Y/N RATING: A for angst and S for smut WORD COUNT: 8000+ REQUESTED: yesssss!!! so many ppl wanted a second part so here u go!! 

guess who’s back!!! well not rly bc i have so much work to do but i managed to churn out this monster fic in like....3 days lmao ! just letting u guys know, it deviates from the religious aspects that r mentioned in the first part; this part definitely deals more w their relationship and there’s literally sooooo much angst so y’all can thank me for that later ;-) anyways, hope u enjoy!!!

[part 1] [masterlist] [come yell at me]

~*~

Luke walked up the rickety steps of the familiar porch, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths. It had been two years—two years with no contact, no phone calls, not even a text. The house still looked the same: white stucco and a plain white garage, the cobbled path leading to the door, the cross nailed to the space right underneath the doorbell. Luke gulped, removing his hand from the tight grip it had on the handle of his suitcase. He rang the doorbell and waited anxiously, his hands clasped behind his back.

For a moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: maybe no one was home. A part of him would be disappointed, but a larger part would be relieved. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to face them, endure the awkward silence and the unfilled gaps, the judgemental, hurt eyes and the tension saturating the air. He could leave. He could escape.

But then the door was swinging open, and he knew that he was fucked.

His mother’s eyes narrowed when she cast her gaze upon him, as though she didn’t recognize him. Luke couldn’t blame her—he had changed a lot since he’d left for Oxford. His slacks had been replaced with black, ripped skinny jeans, his loafers by suede boots. His hair—which had been lighter and styled up into a quiff during his teenage years, now swept down across his forehead, the shade having dulled to a sandy blonde. He was no longer clean-shaven—stubble lined his jawline, and—almost reflexively—his hand came up to scratch his chin.

“Hi, Mum,” Luke forced out, his voice hoarse. 

His mother’s eyes connected with his—her irises were the exact same shade of peculiar blue, and he felt like he was being examined, studied, overturned from the inside and exposed.

“Luke?” his mother stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes raked down his body, taking in his appearance. Luke shot her a half-smile, expecting the gesture to be returned, but instead he was met with her horrified expression.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, “What are you wearing? How long has it been since you’ve last shaved?”

Luke blinked. He glanced down at his outfit and then at his suitcase before looking back up at his mother—the woman who was supposed to love him unconditionally and support him. Yet here she stood, staring at him like he was an utter stranger and critiquing him, just as she had always done.

She hadn’t changed. Their encounter had been so brief, but Luke could already tell. His hopes of returning home for the holidays and being greeted normally flickered and went out, quelled by a despairingly strong gust of reality. He knew—just by looking at the betrayed expression on his mother’s face—that he wouldn’t be welcome here. She hadn’t changed.

And she never would.

“I-I’m sorry,” Luke stammered, reaching back blindly for the handle of his suitcase, fumbling. “I have to—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, rushing back down the porch steps with his belongings in tow. The wheels of his luggage clattered noisily along the cobbled path as he sped into the street, hurrying away from his childhood home. He squeezed his eyes shut, chuckling bitterly to himself. How could he have been so stupid? He’d thought that things could go back to how they once were, and he had been so wrong.

She hadn’t tried to stop him.

His mother had let him go.

~*~

He was not going to do this.

There was no way in hell that he was going to do this.

He opened the door, and a faint jingling sound reached his ears.

Holy shit, he was going to do this.

Luke entered the tattoo parlour, dragging his luggage in behind him. His wallet had been shoved back into his pocket, considerably lighter now that he had paid a hefty amount to the taxi driver. The man behind the wheel had warned him that travelling to the next town over wouldn’t be cheap.

The place was brightly lit, with a large waiting room. Several people lounged around—the majority were large men who looked as if they could squash Luke with their thumbs. There was a younger couple sitting in a corner, giggling madly and trading cheek kisses every so often—Luke assumed that they were there to get matching designs. A woman with a shaved head and a septum piercing lifted her head at the bells that had tinkled when Luke entered. She glanced at him once before going back to scrolling through an app on her phone.

Luke tentatively sat down in one of the chairs, gulping as he rubbed his hands together. He rolled his suitcase so that it was situated between his spread knees, and looked around again, his head cocking to the side when he noticed something.

One of the men—the buffest one who wore sunglasses and who looked like he could be the leader of a fucking motorcycle gang—sat across from him, smiling down at a young child who rested on his lap. The baby looked to be no more than two years old—perhaps only a year and a half—and wore a frilly blue frock, with white tights and blue shoes to match. Their wispy blonde hair was secured with a white, sparkly pin, and Luke assumed that the child was a girl. Scary Biker Dude—that’s what Luke would call him—lifted his hands to his eyes, pausing briefly before removing them suddenly. Luke heard a faint “peek-a-boo!”

The child laughed and clapped, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips. Luke smiled slightly, looking down at his lap to hide his face. The interaction continued for the next few minutes, the child giggling happily and bouncing up and down, and Scary Biker Dude chuckling gruffly in return.

And then there was a voice—a voice that Luke hadn’t heard since he’d kissed you at the airport. An action that he’d performed despite the decision you had both made weeks before: to end what you’d both had so that you could avoid the heartbreak that would come with his departure.

Pain flashed through Luke’s chest as he remembered your solemn expression when he had presented you with the extra plane ticket, the sad shake of your head, your watery eyes once he’d turned away from you a month later and the flight attendant had confirmed his ticket. He remembered those first few nights away from you, how lonely he had felt, how his hand couldn’t bring him the same pleasure, how it hurt for him to breathe because fuck, he couldn’t smell the fruity scent of your perfume. Not anymore.

“Clay, don’t get her too excited, or she’ll throw up!”

Luke’s head snapped up, and he was sure that he stopped breathing.

There you were. Right in front of his fucking eyes.

Luke wasn’t sure where to look first. If anything, the few years apart had made you even more beautiful. Your hair was tossed up into a haphazard bun, and you wore a black button-up, your breasts stretching the fabric slightly. Pale blue jeans adorned your legs, the colour cut off abruptly by those same clunky combat boots—a reassuring jolt of pleasure ran through Luke when he saw the familiar shoes.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Scary Biker Dude—Clay—said, though beneath his graying beard, Luke could make out the fragments of a smile.

You just walked over to the biker with your arms held out. Clay reluctantly picked up the child sitting in his lap and passed her over to you. Luke watched in confusion as you placed the girl on your hip, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You like playing with Clay, Jo?”

The toddler giggled.

Luke stood abruptly. Before his mind could catch up with his body, he was crossing over to where you stood. He stopped a few feet away, but you didn’t look up at him, seemingly too distracted by the child in your arms.

“Is she yours?” Luke asked.

Still staring lovingly at the baby, you nodded.

Luke’s stomach plummeted while his heart somersaulted—he didn’t know what to feel, anticipation and dread and shock and anger rolling like waves throughout his body.

“How old is she?” he said, desperately trying to keep his voice level. A suspicion was building in the back of his mind, quickly gaining momentum with each passing second. Luke’s mouth was dry, as was his throat, and he tried swallowing but found that he couldn’t—he was choking on air, on the remnants of what used to be, on the possibilities that could have come true.

“Sixteen months,” you said. Luke calculated in his head, and a loud gasp left his throat. He looked down at the little girl, only to be met with the brightest shade of cobalt—a peculiar blue.

His peculiar blue.

Finally, you looked up at him, having heard his sharp intake of breath. You cocked your head to the side. “Is everything okay?”

And no, everything was not okay, because you didn’t seem to recognize him—at least, not at a first glance. Luke took a step back immediately, inexplicably overwhelmed. His hands came up to rake through his sandy hair, causing some tendrils to stick up—like the old Luke, the straight-laced pastor’s son, the Luke who had loved you, wanted to take you with him, wanted to break down your walls and know you fully.

And goddammit, that part of him was the one thing that hadn’t changed.

~*~

Luke sat at your kitchen table, his hands folded and his head bowed. The apartment was silent apart from the faint shuffling that could be heard from down the hall, the sound of you trying to put your—his—daughter to bed. Luke dragged his hands down his face, attempting to compose himself. His suitcase was leaning up against the wall near the front door.

He could leave right now if he wanted to. He could stand, slip on his boots, and get the hell out. And God, a part of him wanted to do just that.

But he also needed answers. He needed to talk to you, to question you—dammit, he needed to look at you. It was an innate urgency; he had to study your face, your soft lips, your deep eyes, the caring soul within that was trapped and bound by years of shattered trust. He hadn’t see you in two years—and it was as though within those two years, you had started over, made a life for yourself, let go of anything that was holding you back, erased your past completely.

Luke didn’t want to be erased.

His head whipped to the side once he heard footsteps approaching. He watched with tense shoulders as your silhouette entered the small kitchen.

You leaned against the wall, a small, nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

Fuck.

Luke swallowed. Sighing gently, he ran a hand through his hair and turned towards you. “Hey.”

There was silence. Luke could hear you breathing heavily, the steady sound mixed in with the erratic thumping of his heart. It was so loud that he was afraid you would be able to see his chest pulsing. You could always read him—even before he’d left, you seemed to know his desires, his worries. You’d helped him conquer his fears and realize that his dreams could become realities, and for that, he was eternally in your debt.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, your voice tight.

“Water is fine.”

You nodded, and for a moment, Luke saw through a crack in your composure. You were just as nervous, just as afraid. There was a storm brewing behind your guarded eyes, the dim lighting in the kitchen reflecting off of your pupils. Luke was hit with the strongest urge to hold you, to kiss away your worries and make you happy.

Making you happy—that was all he’d ever wanted.

“Here you go,” you snapped him out of his trance. Luke’s hand shot out to catch the glass of water that you had slid across the table. He hunched his shoulders as he cradled the cup with both hands, trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

“You still do that.”

He looked up. “What?”

You smiled wistfully. “That. You always…curl up into yourself. ’S cute.”

Luke didn’t reply.

You looked around the kitchen as you walked over, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. Luke regretted sitting at the head of the table; it suddenly felt like he had picked the perfect spot where you could watch him, study him, scrutinize him. He looked down at the clear liquid in his cup, willing himself to keep his gaze trained downwards, but once you let out a defeated sigh, he couldn’t resist a small peek.

“How’s Oxford?” you asked, but the question was hollow, as though you weren’t expecting him to respond.

Luke cleared his throat. “It’s good,” he grunted.

A small smile found its way to your lips and you ducked your head, trying to hide it. Luke couldn’t help but to smirk as well—your happiness was fucking infectious.

“I bet it’s a lot of work,” you continued, looking hopeful. Luke nodded, finally taking the first sip of his water. The liquid slid down his throat easily, cooling his entire body. It was like that was all he needed, because he set the glass down, looking at you squarely.

“I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about you.”

A beat of silence passed. You looked away, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before your irises were trained back on Luke.

“I—,” you hesitated, body tight from the sudden onslaught of communication, “—what do you want to know?”

Luke seized the opportunity, not knowing when he would ever receive another chance like that. You were blatantly allowing him to ask whatever he wanted, and it seemed like your answers would be sincere. His lips were moving before his brain had a chance to filter through the questions, and words poured from his mouth.

“How did you get into the piercing business? When did you get this apartment? Are you stable—like, financially? Do you need me to lend you some money? Because I have plenty, don’t worry. Why did you move out here? Why didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?”

“Luke!” you stopped him, your voice rising slightly. He clamped his mouth shut, his chest heaving. You sighed, pursing your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “Okay.”

Luke waited, gazing at you expectantly.

You looked up at him, inhaling sharply before beginning, “I figured that my chances of getting a job were shot back in the suburbs. I moved out here—nobody knew me or my reputation, so I figured that I could start over. That’s when I met Ashton—he’s the guy that owns the parlour—and fuck, even though I was five months pregnant, he gave me a job.”

“How old is he?” Luke demanded, “Ashton, I mean.”

You smiled, “He’s twenty-two.”

Luke’s mouth went dry. He looked away, trying to swallow. “Oh,” he mumbled, “And did you—did you guys ever—?”

“No,” you smirked, shaking your head, “We didn’t.”

Luke breathed a sigh of relief, and you continued, looking uneasy, “I was—I was still too hung up on you.”

Luke’s head snapped up at that, his eyes wide. You looked away, suddenly seeming to find the walls of your kitchen extremely intriguing. Luke studied your side profile, his fingers twitching around his cup. God, all he wanted to do was take your hand. A single touch, the brush of palms—it was like that would be enough to mend everything that had happened between the two of you. Luke studied the bridge of your nose, the delicious curve of your lips. His eyelids fluttered shut as he remembered how he used to kiss you—how you kissed him back.

“Ashton let me stay at his place until I made enough to move out,” you continued, your gaze still fixated on the wall. Luke felt an ugly knot form in the pit of his stomach, and he grinded his teeth together at the thought of you living with another man.

“So, I bought this apartment,” you said, “It’s nothing special, but it’s got two bedrooms, and that’s more than enough. Believe it or not, piercing bodies actually pays a decent amount.”

“Do you need—?” Luke began, but your head suddenly turned, and you shot him a glare.

“If you offer me even a penny, Luke Hemmings, I will kick you out.”

Luke held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, sorry.”

You blew a wisp of hair away from your face. “It’s fine. It’s just—I’ve managed this far on my own. I don’t need you swooping in to save me or anything like that.”

“I didn’t mean—,” Luke tried, but he broke off once you chuckled.

“It’s fine, pretty boy. Jo and I…we’re okay.”

Jo. Luke had nearly forgotten about the toddler that was asleep just down the hall. His mind flashed back to earlier that day—the girl’s wispy blonde hair, her charming and captivating giggles, her striking blue eyes. She resembled Luke so closely—it made him feel a bit nauseous.

“What’s her full name?” Luke blurted. He couldn’t help it.

“Josephine,” you smiled softly, your eyes growing distant.

Luke gnawed on his bottom lip. There was so much happening, and he was beginning to feel overwhelmed and slightly hysterical. He had so many questions, but he knew that he wouldn’t have enough time to ask all of them—and that terrified him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said quietly, looking down at the water in his glass. He was suddenly overcome with aggravation and frustration, his head feeling like it would explode. “Why didn’t you tell me that we were going to have a fucking baby?”

He looked up at you, feeling betrayed. The shock had come and passed, and now he was angry—he was so goddamn angry.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but Luke just shook his head, growing more and more irritated.

“Sorry isn’t good enough. I want to know why. Why didn’t you tell me that—that I was going to be a dad?”

He knew that he couldn’t start screaming, but that didn’t stop him from raising his voice a fair amount. He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, pushing back against the table—his chair made a loud screeching noise against the floor, but he paid it no mind, standing and turning away from you. Luke heard the soft sigh you let out, and he clenched his jaw, rubbing his hands over his face to regain his composure.

Several long, silent moments passed, the tension in the kitchen unbearably thick. Luke’s shoulders oscillated dramatically with each breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at the hem of his shirt, wishing that it would help ease some of the strain that resided in his body.

And then there was a gentle hand on his arm. He froze, swallowing heavily. “Luke,” you breathed, and the way that his name rolled off of your tongue finally persuaded him to turn around.

He moved slowly, his eyes glued to the floor. It was only when you squeezed his bicep that he finally dragged his gaze upwards—he had to hold in a gasp.

Your bottom lip was quivering, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You inhaled, the breath shaky and difficult. Luke watched as your right hand came up, your thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of your nose. You expelled a long breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. Luke was frozen, unable to move—it had been so long since he’d seen you cry.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry. You have no idea—how many times I wanted to call you and tell you. I was so scared…I didn’t want to do it without you but—”

You broke off, clearing your throat. When you spoke again, your voice was laboured, thick with emotion, “I didn’t want to hold you back. I couldn’t. You—it was your dream to leave, and I couldn’t force you to stay just because we fucked up. It wasn’t fair.”

“Why didn’t you abort?” Luke asked, “Or—there’s always adoption.”

Immediately he cringed—that was the best that he could do? It was obvious that you needed comfort, and he hated how the situation had robbed him of being able to wrap his arms around you and whisper consoling words into your ear.

You shook your head. “I didn’t—I don’t know why. I think I just…didn’t want to be alone.”

Luke’s heart shattered and his brain clicked.

“That’s why you didn’t—you didn’t want to come—fuck!” he exclaimed, smacking his hands against his face. He whirled around again, taking a few steps away from you and leaning his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily. Behind him, he heard you sob.

“I’m sorry,” you said again. Luke exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring.

“When did it—?” he paused, trying to rephrase, “We were always careful. How did it even—?”

He waited for an answer. When you didn’t reply, he turned back around, looking at you expectantly. You crossed your arms over your torso, hugging yourself—Luke couldn’t help but to notice how much you’d changed. You were softer, not only physically (though he found himself eyeing your new curves hungrily, aching to feel your skin underneath his fingertips), but emotionally. He vaguely wondered if that old predicament was true—if motherhood really did make a woman more sentimental.

“I’m not sure,” you said, shrugging your shoulders sadly, “But I think—,” you sighed, “—do you remember that night when we went to your dad’s church? And I—”

“Gave me the best fucking blow job of my life?” Luke supplied, “Yeah, I remember. It’d be pretty hard to forget.”

You froze, your eyes wide. And then you laughed.

Luke’s brow furrowed, and his hands flew up. He couldn’t help his agitation. “What’s so funny?”

You covered your mouth to mute your amusement. “I—I’m sorry, it’s just…I’ve never really heard you talk like that before.”

You broke off into quiet giggles. Luke watched, shocked at how your mood had changed so drastically within seconds. The longer he stared, however, the quicker his anger seemed to seep out of him, and his frown began to lift into a smile. He couldn’t help it—your happiness was contagious. Luke smirked and a moment later, a low laugh slipped past his lips.

And eventually you both stood there, smiling bashfully and chuckling. You wrapped your arms back around your body. Luke stepped closer to you. You looked up at him, your eyes still wet—Luke presumed that they were a mixture of sad and happy tears. He lifted his hand, gripping your wrist and pulling your arms away from your body, effectively dismantling the makeshift shield that you had created.

“You’re always fuckin’ doing that,” he grunted.

“Doing what?” you breathed, looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

“This,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently, “Always hiding away from me. I just want to see you, you know? Like, really see you.”

“I’m right here,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed before they opened once more.

Luke swallowed, taking another step towards you. Your fingers twitched; Luke loosened his grip on your wrist, though you didn’t let him retreat, instead reaching for his hand and brushing your fingertips against his palms. He understood, lacing your digits together and squeezing appreciatively. You glanced up at him, your eyes hooded. Luke watched—completely enraptured—as you licked your lips.

“I really want to kiss you,” he blurted.

You pursed your lips, “I know.”

“So—hypothetically—if I were to kiss you, would you be okay with it?”

“Hypothetically?” you cocked an eyebrow, and Luke nodded. You shrugged. “Hypothetically, I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Luke asked, his brow creasing and his heart aching painfully. He was so goddamn close. You were right there, pressed up against him, your breaths intermingling. His pulse was pounding, and his head was foggy as he breathed in the comforting scent of your perfume. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to grab your face and make sure that you knew how much he had missed you.

“Because,” you said softly, “If you kissed me, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from giving you the second best fucking blow job of your life.”

Luke’s breath hitched in his throat. He stared at you in awe, but there was no shame in your expression. Your eyes were wide, tender, sincere. Even before he’d left for university, Luke had only seen that look a handful of times. He knew that it was a look that was reserved for him and only him—proof that he had finally broken down your walls.

And he was determined to make the most of it, before you built them back up.

“Would that be so bad?” Luke questioned, “Hypothetically, I mean.”

You smiled wistfully, your eyes glimmering. Luke watched as you tilted your head up, your lips moving to form words.

“I guess not,” you paused, biting your lip. “Kiss me, pretty boy.”

Yes.

When his lips touched yours, Luke felt like he was going to explode. His heart hammered against his ribcage, and his mouth tingled, the zealous feeling spreading from his lips throughout the rest of his body. He suddenly felt energized, like he could run a fucking marathon, and his fingers twitched against yours. He carefully slipped his hand out of your grip, moving instead to cup your cheeks and keep you close.

“I missed you,” he panted once you’d finally broken apart, “I missed you so fucking much.”

You looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. “I—uh—I haven’t been with anyone. Not since you left.”

Luke tilted his head to the side in confusion. You gripped the collar of his shirt as though you couldn’t bear to be far away from him.

“I mean—,” you said, your voice taking on a hint of desperation, “Fucked. I haven’t fucked anyone since you left. But I—I want…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “God, this is so embarrassing—”

“No!” Luke cut you off, his tone higher than he’d intended. He cringed before sweeping his palms down your neck, across your shoulders so that his fingers were eventually wrapped around your biceps. Luke pressed a hard, fleeting kiss to your lips, “I fucking—I want you too, shit. I just—are you sure?”

Instead of replying with words, you merely leaned up, your fists tightening around the fabric of his shirt as you delivered a bruising kiss to his mouth. Luke’s hands immediately went to your head, his right cupping the back of your neck and his left raking through your hair.

You began moving backwards, and Luke opened his eyes in surprise (one of you had to watch where you were going). His hand shot out to stop your back from colliding harshly with the wall; the abrupt movement made you pull back, and after glancing over your shoulder, you giggled quietly. Luke’s ears were hot, the sound of your laugh ringing like church bells—and God, he wanted to repent.

“C’mon,” you mumbled, gripping his chin between your thumb and forefinger and pressing another short kiss to his lips. You sidestepped, grabbing his hands and pulling him through the doorway that led off into the small (and only) hallway of the apartment. Luke followed you thoughtlessly—he’d follow you straight into hell, if you’d asked.

You led him down to the very end of the hall. Luke couldn’t help but to glance at the closed door of Josephine’s room—his daughter’s room. The thought invaded his mind, and he almost stopped right in his tracks.

“Luke, I—,” you began, and he looked back at you as you pushed open the door of your bedroom. You had used his name; he knew that you meant to say something serious. He followed you inside, waiting for you to finish your thought, but you hesitated and clamped your mouth shut. You leaned up to kiss him, but Luke stepped back, shaking his head.

“No. You’re not allowed to do that now. Tell me what you were going to say.”

“It’s not—”

“Please,” Luke was prepared to drop to his knees and beg. “Don’t hide from me anymore.” He approached you again, pressing your foreheads together and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Open up, angel. Let me see you.”

Your breathing hitched at the pet name, and Luke smiled softly, immediately deciding that he liked it. You looked up at him, your arms winding around his neck, fingers playing with the soft curls at the back of his head. The double bed was so close, but Luke only had eyes for you—everything else could wait.

“I just—,” you said, taking a deep breath, “Tell me what happens after this. With us.”

Luke tensed, his eyebrows knitting together. He would’ve been prepared to answer anything—except for that. Immediately, his mind was travelling a mile a minute, and he was trying to rack his brain for a reply.

He found none.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice quiet and ashamed. You swallowed heavily, nodding and looking away, running your own fingers through your hair. It was easy to see that you were flustered; your eyes were wide, lips swollen, nostrils flaring as you inhaled sharply. Luke just wanted to kiss the worry from your face.

“I don’t—,” you began, shaking your head, “I can’t let you go; I can’t go through that—not again.”

“I can’t either,” Luke was quick to reassure you, gripping your face in his hands and leaning down so that he was staring into your frazzled eyes. “Please, I’m—I’m here for the next two weeks. We can talk about it, we can figure it out, I promise.”

You stared at him, gnawing nervously on your bottom lip. Just when Luke was certain that you’d push him away, you did the opposite, pulling him in close and kissing him harshly. He resisted the urge to chuckle against your lips—he’d never truly be able to figure you out.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, and Luke let out a faint growl, not needing to be told twice. 

He moved forwards until the backs of your thighs hit your mattress, and you pulled him down onto the bed. Immediately, he was on top of you, his knees and palms bracketing your body—you whimpered, reaching for the hem of his white shirt and rucking the material up his torso.

He smiled against your lips, indulging you and pushing himself up. He sat back on his heels, reaching for the collar of his t-shirt and yanking the fabric up over his head. When he tossed it behind him and looked back down at you, he had to restrain himself from grinning. You were staring at him hungrily, your eyes soaking in his broad, bare chest, his smooth shoulders.

“Your turn,” he said.

You sat up, your gazes locking and staying that way as you reached for the top button of your black blouse. Hastily, you undid each clasp, but to Luke, it felt like eons had passed until you were finally slipping the material from your body, baring your blue bra to him. The garment was cute—it was a periwinkle colour, with a small bow resting snugly between the cups, but Luke thought that it would look even cuter standing out against the dark hardwood flooring.

He said just that, and watched how you grinned mischievously before nodding. A moment later, your torso was bare, and Luke couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and giving your breasts all the love and attention that they deserved.

“Fuck,” you breathed, lying back as Luke climbed on top of you once more. He chuckled, and you let out an embarrassed laugh. “It’s just—it’s been a while.”

“Tell me about it,” he groaned, tweaking your nipples gently.

You gasped, seemingly torn between arching your back for more and curling up to avoid the contact. Luke leaned down, kissing you passionately. You tangled your hands in his hand, your fingers tugging at his sandy curls when he moved away, pressing a kiss to your cheek and proceeding down the column of your neck.

“I missed you,” Luke mumbled—the words were constantly there, pushing against the barrier of his lips. Without waiting for your reply, he took your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and reveling in the quiet squeak that left your lips.

Suddenly, he felt a hand pushing at his shoulder, and he pulled away from your nipple with a low ‘pop!’

“Is everything okay?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, afraid that you would close up on him again. But you merely nodded, your eyes wide and your chest heaving with pleasure. Luke vaguely noted that your lower halves were still covered by black skinny jeans, and he vowed to do something about it.

“Everything’s fine,” you breathed, inhaling, “It’s just—we need to be quiet. And I won’t be able to if you keep doing that.”

Luke let the words sink in. After a moment, he chuckled, raising his hands. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it slide this one time.”

You smiled at him before sitting up, your hands sliding down your stomach, fingers fumbling with the button of your jeans. Luke helped you undo it, hooking his fingers into your waistband and tugging the denim down your legs. When the material was finally bunched up at your ankles, he pulled it off with a dramatic flourish, and you laughed softly at his antics. Luke beamed.

“Your turn,” you prompted, repeating his words from earlier. 

With a quiet groan, Luke stood from the bed, messing with his own jeans and trying to remove them. You laughed yet again as he hopped around on one foot, and he pouted at you when he finally wrestled his pants off.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he moped, “I’m trying to be sexy here.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to you and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his perfect nose. “You’re doing a fine job of it, pretty boy. I just like seeing you—the dumb and clumsy you.”

“The mood’s ruined,” Luke frowned childishly, and you merely cocked an eyebrow. You tilted your head up—pulling him into a heated kiss—while your right hand snaked down his body, your palm eventually pressing into the bulge at the front of his boxers. Luke’s hips bucked forward, and you grinned deviously against his lips.

“Mhm…are you sure about that?”

“F-Fuck,” Luke stuttered, only making your smile widen. He blushed, his eyelashes fluttering down against his cheeks. You didn’t stop, your fingers wrapping around his girth through the cotton of his briefs, and Luke’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head (it had been far too long).

You rubbed your nose against Luke’s jawline, and he was momentarily afraid that he’d come right there on the spot. It wasn’t only your fingers squeezing his dick—it was the intimacy, the closeness, the knowledge that you were right here. Luke’s hips rutted against your hand, and he buried his face into your neck, trying to muffle his groans.

“You’ve got to be quiet,” you whispered against the shell of his ear. Luke nodded fervently, using every drop of willpower to pull away from you and the heavenly sensation that you offered. He sat back on his heels once more, his large hands wrapping around your hips and dragging you closer to him.

You smiled mischievously as his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sheer black panties. Luke returned your expression, reveling in the gasp that you emitted when he yanked your underwear cleanly down your legs. You barked out a laugh.

“Okay, that was sexy.”

Luke bit his lip to suppress a smile.

“’M going to open you up now, okay?” he asked, and then continued on an afterthought. “I just really want to fuck you. I promise I’ll eat you out for, like, an hour later tonight.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

He took his time, his hands running down your sides and his mouth open in awe when he finally felt the impact of your pregnancy. You were so fucking soft, and if it weren’t for his raging erection, Luke probably would have nuzzled each roll of fat, each stretch mark, pressing consistent kisses to your skin.

He cursed when he swiped his index finger along your folds, feeling the moisture at the apex of your thighs. You shivered, breathing out a gentle ‘fuck’ and twisting your fingers into the bedsheets. Luke couldn’t stop himself from popping his finger into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. His shoulders rolled as a shudder passed down his spine, and he brought his hands back down, his left poised carefully on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs spread.

You inhaled sharply as the first finger entered you. Luke watched you, completely enraptured by the creasing of your brow and the flaring of your nostrils. He leaned down, his left hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly as he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your swollen clit. A small ‘oh!’ left your lips, and God, Luke was so fucking hard.

“You okay?” Luke asked, looking up at you with concerned eyes. In response, he received a teasing shrug.

“You don’t have to be so gentle, pretty boy. It’s not like I haven’t done this to myself.”

“Fuck,” Luke swore, pressing his forehead against your pelvic bone. Images of you getting yourself off—your fingers between your legs, your body convulsing as you came—flashed through his head, and he subconsciously rutted against the mattress. God, he was fucking pathetic, reduced once more to a fifteen-year-old virgin with quaking knees and fragmented sentences.

Your smirk grew, and Luke—who was determined to regain the upper hand—pursed his lips, retracting his finger from your pussy only to plunge back in with two. It was his turn to smile smugly as he watched your back arch, your left hand flying to your mouth to stifle a moan.

“Fuck me,” you gasped. Luke thought that it was merely an exclamation, but then you repeated the demand, your voice taking on a conscious and sure tone. He looked up at you and your eyes locked.

“Are you sure?” he asked. You nodded rapidly.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

Luke pouted playfully. “I’m kind of offended—are you implying that I have a small dick?”

You laughed, and he grinned. With a quiet grunt, Luke pushed himself back up, clambering on top of you and pressing a messy kiss to your lips. It was barely a kiss, seeing as you were both smiling like idiots, lips bumping against teeth and low snickers being breathed into the clammy air.

“I love your dick,” you whispered against the corner of Luke’s mouth, “You know that.”

Luke hummed in response, pressing a final kiss to your lips before rolling off of you, his feet connecting to the floor. He stood, tucking his fingers into the elastic waistband of his boxers and hastily yanking the offending material down his legs. He stepped out of them once they pooled around his ankles, climbing back onto the bed and resuming his previous position on top of you.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked. Your eyes widened, and then you clenched them shut angrily.

“Fuck, I—”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, “I can—pull out if you want? I got tested about a month back; I’m clean.”

You looked skeptical but eventually you nodded. Luke returned the gesture, shooting you a reassuring smile.

He bowed his head, kissing you fervidly as he reached down, gripping the base of his cock and lining himself up with your entrance. The kiss deepened—he tried to distract you from the obvious discomfort that you would feel—as he slowly tilted his hips forward, his dick sliding into you with an obscene sound.

“Shit,” Luke said immediately, his shoulders tensing and his vision whiting out for a good few seconds. You were so fucking tight—after months with just his hand to keep him satisfied, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep himself from coming.

“Yeah,” you panted against his mouth, nosing along his cheek. Luke kept his right hand planted firmly onto the mattress next to your head, granting his left hand the luxury of exploring your body, feeling down your torso, squeezing your thigh and hip appreciatively.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pursing his lips. Hurting you was the last thing that he wanted to do.

But you just nodded, closing your eyes briefly before they snapped open once more. Luke immediately felt relief wash over him, and he drew comforting circles against the skin of your hip to soothe you. You shifted underneath him, and he tried to pull out, but you gripped his biceps, shaking your head silently.

You both stayed like that for the next minute, Luke watching as you closed your eyes, tuning him out and trying to grow accustomed to the foreign (though it used to be familiar) feeling. Finally, just when Luke was sure that his head was going to explode if he didn’t move soon, you opened your eyes, squeezing his arms and nodding your head.

“Go.”

Luke groaned gratefully before pulling out slowly, watching your facial expression change from anticipatory to blissful. That was the only confirmation that he required, the last push that he needed to plunge back into you, coaxing forth a surprised gasp from your lips. He smiled lightly, biting his lip to stop the corners of his mouth from curving up into a radical grin.

“Shit,” you whimpered, biting your fist to keep your moans quiet. Luke set a quick rhythm, leaning back slightly and placing both of his hands underneath the skin of your thighs. He pushed your legs upwards, practically folding you in half and thrusting back into you. You threw your head back into the pillows at the top of the bed, covering your mouth—though your pleading, helpless whimpers still managed to escape.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “You feel—so fucking good. I…”

“I know,” you mumbled, a soft moan tumbling from your lips. You reached out and Luke understood, leaning into you so that he could kiss you deeply. His lips proved to be no more useful at muffling your noises, so he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

“God, I missed this,” Luke choked out, “My fucking hand—I could never…never even—”

And goddammit, he wasn’t making any sense. You felt too good, too tight for him to form even a single coherent sentence. His thrusts were already faltering, growing sloppy and sporadic, and he chalked it up to the fact that he hadn’t fucked anyone in so long—he hadn’t fucked you in so long. And he had missed it. Fuck, he had missed it so much.

His hips stuttered when you subconsciously clenched around him, and a shudder raced down his spine. He fell forward, his elbows digging into the mattress beside your shoulders.

“Kiss me,” you gasped, and Luke obliged happily. The kiss was so fucking messy, tongues and teeth and whimpers and groans and God, Luke thought, it was perfect.

“I—I can’t,” Luke stuttered out, driving into you with more force and speed, determined to make you come so that he wouldn’t look so utterly pathetic. “I can’t hold it, ’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed.

You rubbed your palms along the vast expanse of his shoulders, and Luke wanted to cry because wow, here you were, looking more beautiful than ever, and he had been able to provide only mediocre sex (at best). Yet you didn’t appear to care, seemingly happy merely because he was with you, and Luke felt his heart somersault in his chest at the realization.

His sudden awareness pushed him to do it: he managed to snake a hand down your body, his thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit. Luke’s chest panged victoriously when he angled himself perfectly, the head of his cock spearing directly into that special spot inside of you. That—coupled with the stimulation of your clit—was enough to push you over the edge, and you shook in Luke’s arms, your orgasm overtaking you.

Luke swore when the silky walls of your pussy locked down on his dick, and he knew that he had to pull out. He steadied himself, sliding out of you in one fluid motion. As soon as he made a fist around his dick, he was coming, the first spurt of come streaking against your hip.

“Fuck,” Luke babbled, his head becoming foggy, “I love you. I fucking love you so goddamn much.”

Somewhere, deep down in the cobwebbed corners of his mind, his brain panicked, realizing what he’d said and screaming out a steady chorus of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck!’

But a larger part of him was drunk on pleasure, unable to register even the most obvious of movements, too high on bliss to remember anything. Luke shuddered, the last bit of his come kicking out and lacing onto the skin of your thigh. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking lethargically and trying to take in his surroundings. In a way, it was sort of like being reborn.

And then he slumped on top of you, not caring that his own come was being smeared between you. You let out a surprised groan, but Luke silence you by pressing his lips against yours, the kiss chaste yet passionate.

“You just—,” you began, and Luke nodded solemnly, sighing. Here it was—the part where you pulled away from him, built up your walls and withdrew once more. He was used to it, but it still stung.

“I know.”

He was waiting for the blow: the tensing of your shoulders, the angry smouldering of your eyes. You would most likely roll over, sit up and mumble about how the whole thing had been a mistake, how you had both let it go too far. Luke’s jaw clenched as you opened your mouth.

“I love you too.”

~*~

“You’re going to call, right? And we’ll Skype?”

“Yes, pretty boy,” you blew a strand of your hair away from your forehead in exasperation, securing your arms around the toddler who sat on your hip. Luke watched you with fond eyes, his gaze flitting over to his daughter.

“Goodbye, Jo,” he mumbled sadly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the girl’s hair. “Daddy loves you very much.”

“It’s been two weeks,” you teased, “Don’t you think you’re rushing into things?”

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Shut up. You know you’re going to miss me.”

It was like—with those words—a dam had broken inside of you. Luke watched, utterly horrified, as your eyes filled with tears. His lips parted in surprise, and then he was pulling you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Oh, shit. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you tried for a sad laugh, “Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Luke said earnestly, trying to sear the words into your brain. He pulled back, stroking your cheek while the toddler in your arms gnawed on the skin of your shoulder. Luke heaved out a tired sigh, trying to take in all the details of your face before boarding the plane. He was painfully aware of the suitcase resting only a foot behind him, the handle gleaming in the bright lights of the airport.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Luke assured you, though his own voice was thick. “Five months, okay? And then I’m coming back. For, like, two months. Two full months.”

You gave him a watery smile, and Luke returned it. He leaned down, kissing your lips softly. A grainy voice came onto the intercom, informing him that other passengers of his flight were beginning to board. Luke pulled away from your lips (quite reluctantly, if he was being honest) and looked at you helplessly. You pursed your lips and tried for an encouraging smile, nodding for him to go.

“I love you,” he reminded you.

“I love you more,” you replied softly. Luke pressed another kiss to the top of his daughter’s head—grinning widely when she giggled—before turning around, gripping the handle of his suitcase and heading off to the gate of his flight.

He forced himself to stare straight ahead; he watched where the other passengers were lined up, their tickets in their hands as they waited for the slips to be confirmed by the flight attendant at the door. Luke closed his eyes for a moment, counting down the days until he’d see you again.

Five months in England. And then two months spent with you. Another four months, gone, separated by thousands of kilometres. And then three months, back. The cycle would repeat once more, and then he would finally be through with his studies.

And that meant coming back to you—and to his daughter. To several job opportunities that he would happily consider. Luke found himself smiling at the ground—once upon a time, he had hated how predictable his life had been; you had been able to offer that deviation, the rebellion that he secretly craved. And now, he just wanted certainty—you provided that sense of support, that promise of stability.

It didn’t matter what Luke needed; you were always there, and with you, things always had a funny way of working out.

He boarded the plane.

 ~*~

damn....if u got thru this....thank u lmao!! and i rly hope u liked it!! [feedback] is much appreciated, tbh the comments fuel me to keep writing lmao 💞💞