#somehow dinner was on time and the kitchen was spotless by then

[rafeandonlyrafe]

perfect wife

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, established relationship, marriage, housewife stuff? cooking and cleaning

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

it’s not that you enjoy cleaning all the time, but you get in certain moods, when your energy level is high and you got enough sleep the night before, that you absolutely love to clean, especially satisfying deep cleans.

today happens to be one of those days, and ever since you woke up, smiling at the note that rafe left you on his pillow, wishing you a good morning and saying he regretted not being there with you upon waking up, but also couldn’t bear rousing you from your sleep when he had to leave for work. it makes your heart flutter to see it signed not by his name but rather ‘from, your husband.’

you’ve been married to rafe for two whole months now, and it feels like a fairytale, somehow even better than being his girlfriend. you feel like a truly good wife as you already scrubbed all the bathrooms spotless before 10 am, and are now working on the common areas before hopefully cleaning the bedroom before rafe gets home from work.

you hum along to the music you have playing throughout the house wide sound system as you wipe down dusty surfaces, taking care to clean all the little crevices that normally get missed. 

time flies and before you realize, your stomach starts to grumble as noon rolls by. you take a pause from your work, having just finished the living room, and move into the kitchen, deciding to make yourself some food before getting to cleaning.

you love to bake, but cooking is not your favorite thing, so you make yourself something simple before you get a spark of creativity, making a stew to simmer so it would be ready by the time rafe got home around dinner. you finish your meal, having disregarded it halfway through to make the stew. 

you clean the kitchen while stirring occasionally before it gets to the point that you can lower the temperature and walk away, now off to clean the bedroom. you grab rafes hamper, filled with clean clothes that he didn’t have time to put away last night, too busy kissing and cuddling with you in bed.

you dump them onto the freshly washed bedsheets, taking the time and care to crisply fold everything or hang up what went on hangers. you even spend some time organizing rafes closet. he kept it pretty clean already, but you wanted to make everything perfect.

you run downstairs to check your stew before continuing onto your closet, it being a much bigger mess than rafes. you have a terrible habit of trying on clothes, deciding its not want you want to wear for the day, and tossing it onto the floor instead of putting it properly away.

“baby!” you hear rafe shout just as you finish up. you quickly flatten your hands over the comforter on the bed, smoothing out any creases to make the room truly flawless before you rush down the stairs, greeting your husband with a kiss as your arms loop around his shoulders.

“something smells good.” rafe says, taking a sniff of the entryway, the smell of the stew having radiated throughout the whole house.

“i made you food.” you tell him, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, keeping your body close to his having missed him all day. “it should be ready in about 30 minutes, just enough time for you to shower.” you know rafes routine well enough, he liked to shower right when he got home from work, to wash the day away.

“you’re the most perfect wife ever.” rafe bends his head to press kisses to your neck, making you giggle when he focuses on your ticklish spot.

“go shower!” you shoo him away, wanting him to have the soup when it is nice and hot.

“love you, honey.” rafe kisses your cheek before heading up the stairs. you echo the words back to him before heading towards the kitchen to check on the stew, but pause when you hear rafe calling your name from your bedroom.

you rush up the stairs, worried that you maybe accidentally threw something out that was important or moved something and he didn’t know where it was.

“what is it rafey?” you question, eyes wide as you see him looking around the room.

“you cleaned all this while i was at work? and put away my laundry?” rafe questions, seeing that even the baseboards have been cleaned of the bit of dust that always collects on them.

you give a shrug. “i like cleaning for you.” “you know you don’t have to do all this baby.” rafe moves to wrap his arms around your waist. “i mean i appreciate it, but don’t feel like you’re required to now that we are married.” “i know.” you smile, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i seriously just wanted to.” “okay.” rafe nods, satisfied with your answer. he knows you get little bursts of cleaning, but doesn’t want you to get the wrong impression about your role, even if you do stay home while he is at work.

“go shower.” you press a kiss to rafes lips before leaving him in the bedroom, smirking to yourself knowing that he’s about to see that you cleaned the bathroom as well.

you return to the stovetop, stirring everything together before preparing the final touches, even setting out the perfect silverware for the occasion, choosing the dining room for such a meal rather than the island where you and rafe usually eat.

you jump when rafe enters the kitchen. he always moves so quietly through the house that it catches you off guard.

“god, if we weren’t already married i would propose to you all over again right now.” rafe wraps his arms around your waist as you work on ladling the stew into individual bowls, deciding to keep the rest in the pot on the stove for easy splitting up into tupperware later.

“i like making food for you.” you hum. “don’t expect it all the time though, i also love getting take out.”

rafe laughs and nods his head in agreement, you have a habit of ordering food at least two times a week, making it a tradition on fridays to watch an episode of tv while you eat in the living room.

“let me carry them in.” rafe stops you before you can carry the bowls yourself, picking them up and following you into the dining room.

you blow on your spoon to cool the stew as rafe begins to eat, commentating over and over how delicious it is, even going so far as to moan and roll his eyes back into his head, but when you take a bite you can’t help but admit that it’s very good.

“when we finish eating-” rafe says after a few minutes of silence, too engrossed in your meal. “i’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you.” “rafe!” you giggle at the sudden lewdness.

“i’m serious, baby. i need to after you did all this cleaning, put away my laundry and made me food? i need to put a baby in you immediately.” 

“well… hurry up and get back to eating.” you gesture to rafe. you talked about having kids after marriage, but this was the first time since your wedding that rafe brought up actually bringing them into the world.

you both rush through the rest of your meals, leaving the dishes on the table to be taken care of tomorrow as rafe sweeps you into his arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease. he sets you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours as he works on taking off his pants, throwing them in the general direction of his hamper before pulling away to pull your shirt off over your head.

“i can’t fucking wait to see you all filled up with my kid.” rafe says, massaging your breasts through your bra, unable to keep his hands off of them, even to take off the fabric covering them.

“need that so bad, rafey.” you whimper. you’ve always wanted to be a mom, and it feels like the perfect time to make that dream a reality.

“gotta fuck you now, princess.” rafe says, quickly taking his shirt off, his cock already completely hard as he pulls his underwear down, clearly excited to put a baby into you.

you reach behind your back to take your bra off before sliding your leggings and underwear down in one go, needing rafe just as desperately as he needs you. you move up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as rafe moves to hover over you. 

“i would eat you out or finger you but i need this right now.” rafe says, reaching down to rub at your clit as his tip presses against your entrance.

“i need you right now too.” you tell him, letting out a moan as he pushes in, moving slowly to let you adjust. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, rafes chest heaving with deep breaths, trying to control himself.

“you can move.” you tell rafe after a minute. he doesn’t give even a second for your comment to sit before he is thrusting in and out, making your joint moans echo throughout the room.

rafe presses sloppy kisses against yours, lips vibrating together when you’re both unable to hold back your noises of pleasure. “feels so good.” you whimper, his thumb still rubbing against your clit, never stopping making you feel good.

“i know it does, princess.” rafe says. “you’re doing so good for me. gonna fill you up real good.” “you’re gonna be the best daddy.” you tell rafe, and its true, you know just from the way he treats you, how he straightened out and takes care of you, that he’s going to be an amazing dad.

“fuck-” rafe curses, somehow able to move faster, slamming in and out of you, annihilating your cunt with the ferocity he is thrusting into you at. rafe is grunting with the effort he is giving as you grip his shoulders tightly, sure to leave red marks from your nails come morning.

“gonna go fucking crazy, your pussy is so good.” rafe says, as if he hasn’t already gone crazy with the way he’s fucking into you.

“keep rubbing rafe, i’m close.” you moan, back arching off the bed as his thumb rubs over your clit easily due to your slick.

“cum for me princess.” rafe begs you, needing to feel your cunt squeeze around him. you’d never deny your husband as he rubs you to orgasm, entire body shaking as your high hits you, moaning wildly as rafes cock maintains its blistering pace.

as soon as your clit pulses underneath his finger and your back settles back against the bed, rafe moves, pulling out briefly to reposition you, slotting his hands underneath your knees and pushing your legs up and open, spreading your cunt wide for him before his cock reenters you.

he begins to thrust immediately, keeping up the aggressive, feral pace. you’re so sensitive from your orgasm but you can’t complain when you know he’s working to get his cum inside of you, to fill you up, to grow your family.

“gonna cum.” rafe warns briefly, his words slurred out, his eyes half lidded from the ecstasy of your cunt as he pushes in for a final time, shooting his cum as deep as he can, leaning forward and pressing you into the mattress, not even caring as your thighs burn from the stretch.

rafe grinds himself into you until there is nothing more to release, moving your legs back to a more comfortable position but keeping his dick buried deep inside of you.

rafe looks at you with a smile, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “gotta make sure it takes.”

[kingofpopmj]

you could do a story with Michael Jackson where he is married to Y/N just to please the media and he doesn't really love her that much. However, he respects her even though he gives her a few arrows with nasty words, making her disappointed. Also, if possible, at some point in the bedroom while Y/N is sleeping, Michael appears slightly nervous and when he sees her, he starts kissing her because he misses her touches.... and... maybe a passionate ending smut????please…. thank u😩😙💓

~This is my first smut imagine, so don’t be too hard on me.🙈 I hope you enjoy it! Michael is spicy in this one so read at your own risk. Thank you to the hunni that requested this!

I'll Change The Rules For You

*Michael’s POV*

The heaviness in my heart grew unbearable as I unlocked the front door. The shine of my wedding ring ever so bright as I slowly pushed the door open. I quietly entered the house. It was spotless. The house filled with the smell of a homemade meal. My favorite meal. The distant sound of Y/N humming made me feel everything and nothing all at once. She was- she’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.

I stood in the doorway unable to shut the door behind me just yet. I wanted to be home. It’s just home doesn’t feel much like home lately. I let out a deep sigh before closing the door. There’s no running. I can’t run away. Making my way to the kitchen with small steps I’m greeted with Y/N’s backside. She was bent over putting something in the oven. A normal husband would happily announce his arrival or greet his wife with a kiss, but me- I have no idea what to do.

“Oh my goodness!” Y/N jumped when she finally turned around. “You scared me.”

“I do live here.” I scoffed.

“Of course you live here. I just wasn’t sure what time you’d be home.” She smiled hopefully. “I’m happy to see you.” She moved towards me wrapping her arms around me. When I didn’t reciprocate the gesture her arms fell to her sides. The look of defeat plastered across her face.

“I’m gonna go take care of some things.”

“Wait.” She gently held my arm stopping my abrupt exit. “I made dinner. I thought we could eat together. Maybe have a movie night?” Again, she smiled. It was full of love and optimism. I couldn’t stand the feeling in my chest, but still I held my ground.

“I’ll pass.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being this way.” It came out as a whisper, but I heard it. I heard her sadness. I felt her despair.

“You don’t understand a lot.” I snapped.

“We used to be friends.” She looked up at me with watery eyes and in that moment I hated myself.

“We are what we are. That’s it.”

“What are we?”

“We are legally bound to one another.” I said with a shrug. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.

“You make it sound so-“

“I make it sound like what it is!” Y/N jumped back at my sudden outburst. She looked terrified- terrified of me.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Her voice laced with pain. “You asked me to do this for you and I did because you promised me nothing would change.”

“I’m not being mean! It’s not my fault you’re a dimwit that can’t understand simple concepts! You keep acting like this perfect little housewife. It’s too much! You are too much! We did this to get the world off my back, yet somehow you’ve managed to screw that up! It’s exhausting being your husband- your fake husband!”

“I gave up my whole life because my friend asked me- no begged me to help him. I couldn’t be anything else but Michael Jackson’s wife. You knew that. I had to abandon my family, my friends, my job. Everything. I know this isn’t real, I know we aren’t real, but I still thought you were worth it. I tried to make this strange situation as comfortable as possible, but you are determined to hurt me. To break me.”

“Y/N-” I stopped when she put her hand up shaking her head slowly. She untied the apron from around her waist placing it on the counter.

“Dinner is on the table. I made the cake you like. It’s in the oven- just take it out when the timer goes off.” She spoke softly before leaving the kitchen forcing me to watch her walk away- walk away from me. It seemed inevitable.

She doesn’t deserve this.

I don’t deserve her.

I took my seat at the table unable to eat anything. After how I treated Y/N, I deserved the loss of appetite and more. I stared at the spread in front of me, which only made me feel worse. She did so much for me. She does so much for me. The kitchen timer went off reminding me of the cake in the oven. I walked over to take it out. She really did all of this for me. She’s the best person in my life. The only one I can truly trust and I’m going to lose her.

Two hours have gone by since Y/N left. I knew she fell apart after how I spoke to her. She felt safe in our bedroom, so I knew that were she was. I desperately wanted to see her- hold her- be with her. I knew the shame would become insufferable the moment I looked into her eyes. Even with that understanding, I couldn’t stay away from her. The effect she has on me is something I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend.

Another forty-five minutes went by before I mustered up the courage to leave the kitchen. I found myself struggling to proceed when I reached the bottom of the staircase. I need to make this right. I need to fix this. I need Y/N.

As I reached to top of the staircase I see the bedroom door is closed, but as I twisted the knob I was thankful it wasn’t locked. My eyes scanned the room unable to find Y/N. The bed was made without a crease in sight. The only source of light illuminating from the bathroom. I rushed over hoping to find her braiding her hair in front of the mirror or massaging her face with that lotion she loved so much. It smelled like peonies, her favorite flower. The more time that passed without any trace of Y/N the more empty I felt. I was starting to feel worried, but mostly confused.

The closet was the last place to check. Nothing could prepare me for how broken I’d feel once I pushed that door open. The hangers were empty on Y/N’s side of the closet. Her suitcases littered the floor half full of her belongings. She was curled up into a ball on the tiny couch I got her for our first anniversary. It’s from France. She fell in love with the soft velvet fabric and I knew I had to surprise her with it. I still remember the smile on her face. She was so touched. She was so happy. Ironic, how easily- how quickly I tarnished that happiness. When I realized she was asleep I moved closer. Her tear stained cheeks broke my heart further. The pain in my chest growing by the second.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered kneeling down to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead. Unable to take my eyes off of her I gently took her hand in mine- her left hand. I admired the ring on her finger remembering the proposal, the smile on her face, the joy that filled my heart and the love between us. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered again leaving kisses on her hand.

“Y/N?” I said softly trying to wake her up without scaring her. Her eyes remained shut as she instinctively snuggled into my hand that rested against her cheek. I couldn’t help myself. I cupped her face in my hands as I left tender kisses all over face.

“Michael?” Y/N sat up looking at me bewildered.

“I’m so sorry.” She avoided looking into my eyes. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

“You act like you hate me.” She murmured staring down at our entangled hands.

“I don’t.” I began kissing her hand slowly traveling up her arm, shoulder and neck.

“Michael.” Y/N pulled away finally meeting my eyes. “You can’t bombard me with kisses and think that erases all the bad.”

“I know. I know. Y/N, I love you.”

“You can’t just say that and not mean it or act like it.”

“When I asked you to marry me as a favor I didn’t necessarily think it through.”

“What do you mean?”

“We loved each other as friends. I thought it would stay that way. It didn’t. Not for me. You promised me five years of marriage. On our third anniversary, I asked you for an extra five more and you obliged. You agreed to ten whole years as my wife.”

“I knew it would help you, so of course I said yes.”

“We’re just about to hit the five year mark and the thought of eventually having to let you go terrifies me. I asked for five more years because I don’t want to be without you.” I leaned in before she could respond and kissed her. I kissed her like I meant it. I kissed her like how I’ve been desperately wanting to for so long. Desperately, I pulled her to sit on top of me guiding her hips as I brought her down to my lap.

“What about the rules? No sex.”

“Those were impossible rules to follow. An idiot created those rules.” I say brushing her hair behind her shoulder and sinking my face into her neck. Her perfume filled my nostrils and I mentally kicked myself for denying myself of this pleasure sooner.

“Calling yourself an idiot there rule maker?” She questioned rolling her eyes and giggling. Oh, that sound. I love that sound.

“I think I deserve it, don’t you?” She shrugged in response. I pulled her closer, so close her body moulded to mine. “You’re my wife. I want to do this the right way. I want to do it all with you. I want this to be real.”

“Real?”

“I don’t want to push you away anymore. I want to bury myself in you.” I whispered in her ear as she took a deep breath. “Let me bury myself inside of you.” I purred against her sweet lips. My hands slowly traveled from her hips to her waist taking in every curve. I dragged my fingers just below her breasts to unbutton her shirt. I slid it down her arms leaving trails of goosebumps on her skin. I knew by the uneven rise and fall of her beautiful chest she wanted me just as badly.

“Please.” She said breathlessly tearing my shirt off and throwing it across the room.

Y/N’s head fell back as I kissed her neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin. Her fingers laced in between the strands of my hair as she kept me close. She rolled her hips against mine painfully slow as she met my gaze. The look in her eyes was more than enough to send me over the edge. She continued and I was could feel myself lose control. Y/N stopped without warning sensing my predicament. I held her hips with such force I’m certain she’d be covered with bruises. I want her. I need her to move- to move faster, but she refused to give me what I wanted. She was going to make me beg- and I would- I will. A seductive smirk covered her face. She enjoyed teasing me.

“I need you.” I panted trying to compose myself.

“I know.” She whispered in my ear unaware of just how much I worshipped her. She left wet kisses down my neck and chest as she pushed me until my back met the rug. I gawked at her unable to form any words. Unable to do anything but follow her every move.

She made me so weak.

I watched as she unzipped my pants sliding them down my legs.

She looked deep into my eyes as she removed my boxers.

I was so lost in her eyes that being completely naked in front of her didn’t register. The only thing on my mind was her.

The immense feeling of emptiness took over me as Y/N stood letting her panties fall to the ground.

I extended my arms folding them behind my head as I admired the view. She smiled bashfully before returning to her place- on top of me. Oh how I loved this view.

I reached out touching her anywhere-everywhere. I never thought anything would feel so good. Look so good. Taste so good.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, holding onto my shoulders lowering herself onto me.

I could feel everything.

I love the way she feels. I never want to go without her again. I’m hooked.

Her warmth tightened around me as she took me in deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut adjusting to me. The sound of my name falling from her lips only fueled my neediness.

My eyes rolling back at the sensation of her. I’ve missed out on this for too long. I glanced down at our connected bodies before quickly flipping us over. I settled in between her legs. I needed to be on top of her. I needed more. My hand traveled up her outer thighs and I took the opportunity to wrap her legs around me.

“You feel so- so good.” I lowered myself to meet her lips once again as I began to thrust into her. She interlocked her ankles behind my back pulling me in deeper each time.

“Faster!” Her voice was full of lust and it drove me wild. “Michael! Please!”

“Y/N!”

The room filled with the overwhelming sound of us satisfying one another. She brought something out in me I couldn’t explain. I licked and sucked on every part of her glorious body. Each moment better than the last.

She kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before. Her lips so soft. Her tongue so sweet. Kissing her came natural to me. Kissing her made me feel alive. Kissing her was like breathing. I needed it to live. I needed her to live.

“I’m going to-“ I felt myself release inside of her. The sting of Y/N’s fingernails dragging down the length of my back adding to my pleasure. We were both panting, but insistent on staying connected. Insistent on burying myself inside of her over and over again.

“Please!” Her lustful cries echoed off the walls as she clenched around me. Watching her come undone made me want to do this- do her all night- every night.

“Michael!” I collapsed on top of her resting my head on her voluminous chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” She began laughing uncontrollably. I looked up at her seeing a genuine smile gracing her face.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe we just did that.” She sheepishly covered her face and I immediately pulled her hands into mine. Forcing her to look at me.

“I wish we had done it sooner.” I smiled kissing her deeply.

“The floor was fun.. Can we maybe try a couch or a mattress next time?”

“Next time?” I moved sliding my arms under her neck and legs lifting her up and walking out of the closet into our bedroom. I laid her on the bed gently spreading her legs with the tips of my fingers. “Who said I was done with you?” I chuckled leaning down kissing her inner thighs.

“Michael! Oh my-”

“Relax, I’ve got you baby.”

[blueberrygiggles]

"Hey, cheer up!" (Squealing Santa 2k23)

fandom: TUA

ler!allison, lee!five

prompt: "hey, cheer up!"

hello @atlascozynook !! i was your secret santa this year! hope you enjoy! this would've been done much earlier but i am a horrible procrastinator lol.

fun fact, this is 1500 words exactly! anyways. merry christmas and happy holidays!

warnings: bad coping mechanisms (drinking), but nothing super crazy. five only gets slightly drunk.

The smell of chicken filled the first floor of the house and Mom’s humming lilted softly from the kitchen. For a family as dysfunctional as the Hargreeves, it was peaceful.

Sort of.

Just through the door, in the main living room, Klaus tackled Diego from a bar stool for no clear reason, and Allison was seconds away from pulling out a camera to watch Diego get beaten by a skinny hippie.

Klaus grabbed Diego’s side and squeezed his ribs, Diego yelped and tried to roll away from him. Allison hadn’t seen Diego, or any of them laugh like that in years, it had been even longer since they had all gotten semi-along. It was nice to see them act more like a family unit, even if it was loud.

Luther leaned into her side from where she was sitting on the couch, “Should we… stop them?”

Allison almost snorted and took a sip from her wine glass, “No, let them wrestle it out. It’s good for them.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Mom poked her head out from the door and called them in for dinner. Klaus climbed off a giggling Diego and ran towards the kitchen. Allison huffed a laugh and downed the last of her wine before following.

Before she could sit at the table next to Klaus, Mom’s cold hand touched her shoulder, she jumped and Mom gave her an apologetic smile, “Do you know where Five is, dear?”

She shook her head, “No, but I can go find him.”

Mom nodded and wiped her spotless hands on her apron, “Would you?” When Allison nodded her head and pushed her chair back in, Mom gave her a small but warm feeling smile, the one that meant she was showing appreciation, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

~

Five felt shitty.

He felt shitty quite a bit, less than he did before he found his way home, but somehow days like this still managed to worm their way into his life.

The apocalypse was over, the world was saved, his family was safe, everything was good. Even his fucking siblings, who have historically disliked each other and have gone out of their way to avoid each other, were getting along. Logically, everything was as good as it could be.

So, why did Five feel so awful all the time? He had no fucking idea, but he also didn’t want to spend his time trying to figure out why, he just wanted to not feel like shit. And he, just as any man who feels shitty does, grabbed a bottle of vodka and brought it to his room to drink himself into oblivion.

However, he forgot that his fourteen-year-old body was not meant to hold this much alcohol.

The bottle was only a fifth gone, but he was already very decently drunk. His vision was slightly blurry, and everything moved just a little too fast for his eyes to keep up. He wasn’t sleepy yet, but enough time and he’d be passed out on the floor.

Overall, he felt better than he had in days.

Five looked up towards the door to see Allison leaning in the doorway. Her flowery dress caught his eye, the leftover swaying from her walking was enamoring. The colors flowed into each other and yet were so far apart. Allison bent down at the knee to his level.

“You alright there, Five?”

He inhaled sharply, being pulled out of his color fueled haze, “What?”

Allison furrowed her brows in concern, “I asked if you were okay? You were staring off into space and you look drunk.”

He snorted without meaning to and Allison’s concerned look turned into one of amusement. Five waved his hand, “I’m fine. Drunk… but that’s probably why I’m fine.”

She moved to sit next to him, she picked up the bottle and examined the leftover contents, she downed back a small gulp of the bottle and winced. Dad’s old alcohol always had a bit more of a bite, “Mom wanted me to find you for dinner.”

Five barely held back his complaint, “I’m not hungry.” He slurred slightly.

“Just come downstairs for a few minutes, eat something, and then you can come back up here and drink.”

Allison put the bottle down and it clanked against the ground, Five leaned against her shoulder and his head fell back against the bed, “Just tell her I’m… fucking… sleeping or something.”

He could feel her roll her eyes, “Come on, cheer up a bit, Five. Come sit with us just for a bit?”

“I’m drunk. I’m not going to be very fun to be around.” Five said with a slur to his words. In all honesty, he’d probably be quite pleasant compared to his normal demeanor, the alcohol took an edge off and having Allison to talk to was fun; talking to his siblings in general sounded fun. He missed being able to talk to people when he was in the apocalypse.

Allison smiled and pinched his side, “Come o- What was that?”

Five giggled when she pinched his side, he curled into himself slightly, suddenly feeling a bit more sober, “Fuck you, it was nothing.”

Her smile grew into something more playfully sinister, “Are you sure? Sounded like something?” She punctuated her words with more pinches to his side. Five tried to ignore her, but the alcohol loosened his senses. He snorted and covered his mouth with his hand.

Five glanced over towards the door and tried to beeline for it, but he stumbled over his foot and Allison followed him as he landed in the doorway. She straddled his hips, and her hands went for his waist. Five tried and failed to grab her hands, a giggle rising in his throat, he glared.

“I will hurt you, I swear to God, Alihihisohon!”

She wormed her fingers into Five's ribs, squeezing along his sides. Five bucked against her hands and tried to grab her wrists. A snort broke from his throat as Allison went for his underarms. Five slammed his arms down, effectively trapping her hands there.

Five screeched, "Ouhuhuht! Ouhuhuhut!!!"

His voice went up an octave when she reached back to squeeze his left knee. His hands moved from trying to grab hers and went to cover his face. If he was a bit less drunk, he would've been better at hiding the childish laughter, but he hadn't had the forethought.

Not that he fully minded this, he thought. It felt... nice to laugh like this.

It was probably the vodka.

Who knows, really.

Ticklish shocks shot through his system, Allison was plenty strong enough to hold him down, especially at his current size, so he bucked, he snorted into his hands and a small flush flooded his face.

Allison grinned, "You okay there, Five?" She asked through his laughing.

If he were able to glare, he would have given her the sharpest glare he could muster, but all he could do was respond with more laughter.

"Just come downstairs and eat, Five." She added.

"ShuhuUHUT UHUP-!"

She squeezed a particularly bad spot on his knee, and he kicked his legs up and-

"...Ow."

-and hit Allison square in the back.

Her face was one of shock, but not pain. She gasped as if offended, "Well, that was just rude, Five."

The alcohol in his system stopped him from having any kind of filter whatsoever, so he did about the dumbest thing one could do in his situation.

He laughed at her.

Allison's playful grin returned and before Five could blink her hands were back on his knees. He squealed.

Legitimately squealed.

She fluttered over his kneecaps to try and give him a slight break, "Now will you come downstairs?"

Five didn't respond, he was too stuck in his giggle fit to even think of giving an answer that wasn't a laugh. Allison raised an eyebrow and went back to his knees with vigor. He started going after her hands again.

"YEHEHES YEHES! JUHUHUST STOAOAHAP!"

Allison removed her hands and climbed off him, allowing him several minutes to catch his breath. She stood up and offered him her hand. He pulled himself up and refused to look her directly in the eye. She snorted.

"You okay?"

He wiped off the dust on his shorts, he felt a bit more sober than he did before and scoffed, "Never mention... any of that, to anyone ever."

He could hear her eye roll but didn't feel the need to call her out on it, to be fair, he felt much better than he did before, and this time it wasn't because of the alcohol. She grabbed the vodka bottle to return to Dad's old stash.

"Or...?"

He glared at her, a small smile he hoped she couldn't see tugging at his lips, "Or I'll kill you, obviously."

He walked out the door and down the stairs with Allison and pretended he didn't hear her sarcastic affirmation.

God, he really was glad to be back.

[brightoakgame]

If a friend somehow roped each LI into babysitting their kid for a night... How would that pan out??? 👀 Who's a 10/10 babysitter and who's setting the kitchen on fire?

Bahahahahahaha!

John: The house is a disaster: the kitchen's a welter of dirty dishes, the couch flipped over to make a fort, toys everywhere, and there is inexplicably peanut butter on all surfaces child-height and lower. That said, the kiddo is in bed asleep, worn out from playing, and did at least eat something-- probably cookies-- for dinner. John is snoring in an armchair, also worn out. Everyone had a good time, and kid would like Sheriff John to be the go-to sitter from here on.

Marybeth: The house is in much the same state it started in, because Marybeth would not allow the child to make a mess or deviate from a set area for play. They had well-balanced dinner, and she sent them to bed half an hour early. The child would really prefer you didn't ask Doctor Forster to babysit again; she gets mad a lot.

Patti: 10/10, objectively the best of the bunch. The house is spotless, the kid is in bed asleep, dinner was delicious (with leftovers in the fridge, even), there were two cookies for dessert, they played the clean-up game together, bathed, brushed teeth, the works. The child adores Tía Patti. Strangely, though, it seems Patti is busy anytime she's asked to babysit in the future.

Sparrow: The child is still wide awake, because they have found that Sparrow is an inexhaustible reader. They have been reading the whole time, and all storybooks are pulled off the shelves and scattered around the house. Dinner was cereal or granola bars. The child will not sleep for several hours more, because Sparrow also let them drink black tea with honey. In the coming days, it will be discovered the child has suddenly acquired a wealth of new opinions concerning the patriarchy and authority figures.

Jasper: Uh, well... Jasper meets you at the door with a lightbulb. It belongs to the child's lamp. They wouldn't go to sleep and kept turning on the light, so he removed it. He then sat down in front of the open door as a sentry, keeping the child in and undefined (but feared) potential bad guys out. He remained sitting in the gloom for forty-three minutes. They're asleep now. Dinner was a catastrophe, in his opinion, as the child could not be left to their own devices, so he set them to work writing down all the steps that went into preparing the meal. They drew pictures of unidentifiable monsters instead, which annoyed him, but at least he was able to finish cooking. Unsure what else to do with the child, they built a science-fair volcano on the dining room table, where it remains, faintly smoking. Jasper will not say it, but he was an anxious wreck the entire time. Surprisingly, child thinks Mister Doctor Jasper is the bees' knees (✨VOLCANOS✨), and begs to have him back next time, too.

[mountttmase]

HIII I MISSED SENDING THOSE SOOOO MUCH😌

You weren’t expecting anything much, but a simple ‘welcome home’ or ‘hello’ would of been enough to suffice. But clearly that was too much for him now. THE LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT IS HERE

He was quiet, never seeming to want to come out of his shell too much anymore and no matter how much you tried, he didn’t want to budge. MEAN BOY

You left him at first since it was just him being quiet, but when he started to pull back from you physically then you started to get worried. Mason was a cuddle monster and always loved to have his hands on you so in the beginning when this was still the case you were fine but as the weeks passed he was beginning to keep to himself. No longer wanting to hold you or keep your hand in his. You knew something was really wrong when he pushed you off gently as you tried to give him head scratches in hopes of getting him to relax into you but if anything he moved further away. OH MY GOD THAT HURT, I COUL FEEL IT IN MY BELLY

You tried not to take offence to it though, telling yourself he was like it with everyone not just you however when you got back from work one night to find a house full of boys and Mason looking happier than you’d seen him it weeks you couldn’t deny it stung a little bit. Especially when Mason didn’t even acknowledge your existence. You kept yourself out of the way, eating dinner in the cinema room and by the time you went to bed Mason was already fast asleep. GIRL JUST GO AWAY AND LEAVE THE PIECE OF SHIT ALONE

I WOULD HAVE LEFT THE HOUSE EVEN MORE DIRTIER THAN HE DID HONESTY

That’s how it went for the next week or so, you coming home to a house full of people and Mason not so much as batting an eye in your direction. You were eating alone in the kitchen one night when he came in and your heart stopped, wondering if he would say anything but he simply got a glass from the cupboard and left again. Leaving you to tidy up all the take away wrappers and bottles that littered the room. THIS MADE ME HATE HIM IN THE TEASER AND IT'S NOT FAILING IN DOING IT AGAIN

HI BEN😌 NOW I LOVE YOU TOO, LET'S THANK CARLOTTA, LOZ AND SID🤭

‘Not officially’ you winked and he looked at you sympathetically. ‘It’s fine, honestly. He clearly prefers your company to mine right now’ GIRL GO AT YOURS LIVE LITTLE GRUMPY ALONE AND SEE WHAT HE WILL DO

‘I’ll have a word with him’ I LOVE HOW HE IS THE WISE FRIEND ALWAYS

The next day felt even worse somehow. It was one in the afternoon before he messaged you, letting you know he’d slept in and he would text you later as he had some stuff to do. You didn’t bother replying, knowing you’d see him soon enough and you couldn’t think of anything nice to say to him right now. AT LEAST HE ADVISED HER

It was dark inside, the only light you could see was coming from the living room and once your coat and bag were tidied away, you followed it to find Mason sat on the sofa, with his face glued to his phone. He didn’t so much as look up at you as you walked in and you bit your lip before clearing your throat. I HOPE HE HAS A GOOD IDEA AND PLAN TO MAKE IT UP TO MY GIRL

‘Hi Mason’ I WOULDN’T SAY HI, HONESTLY

The kitchen was spotless for once and you lost your appetite immediately at the fact there was nothing for you to eat. Usually he would at least leave you something when you got back this late but clearly he’d forgotten how to do that too. Right now all you wanted was your bed so you that’s exactly where you went, walking passed Mason without a word and up the stairs. THAT'S BECOMING EVEN WORSE

‘Why are you up here?’ He whispered and you just shrugged your shoulders no wanting to lie to him that you were asleep but not in the mood to speak to him either. ‘You feeling okay?’ He asked and you nodded to let him know you weren’t sick. ‘Do you want me to get you anything to eat?’ He mumbled but you shook your head to let him know you didn’t before you heard him let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t say anything else just placed a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving the room. It was probably the most intimate he’d been with you in a while and you had to use all you’re nerve to keep your emotions inside. WHY IS SHE NOT SCREAMING HER LUNGS OUT AT HIM??

You were upset, not just because this had been going on for weeks but the fact you’d let it get to this point was something you never thought you’d do. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed you properly and sex had been off the table for a while making you wonder if he was getting it from somewhere else. OH MY BABY🥺🥺🥺

In your mind, he’d given up on you but didn’t have the heart to let you go yet. You weren’t sure how much longer you could put up with his mood before you said something but you were too afraid about what that would mean for the pair of you. MY EYES ARE WATERING

You tried to forget about all of it, drifting in and out of sleep until Mason eventually joined you. This night was different though, him finally cuddling up to you and placing a soft kiss to your shoulder and you bit you lip hard so you wouldn’t cry. Not realising his touch starved you were until you felt his body heat on you but after five minutes or so he was off of you, rolling over to face the other way. GIRL PUNCH HIM🤭😌

He was gone the next morning when you woke up but there was nothing around to make it look like he’d even been there at all in the first place. You didn’t even bother checking your phone and once you’d left for work you’d made the decision that you weren’t going back their tonight. MY WOMAN FINALLY MADE THE RIGHT DECISION 😌😌😌

You didn’t want to let him know though. As petty as it sounded you wanted him to wonder where you were and message you first just so you could feel like you maybe meant something to him. HERE WE SAY "LA VENDETTA È UN PIATTO CHR VA SERVITO FREDDO" (REVENGE IS A MEAL THAT HAS TO BE SERVED COLD) AND I THINK YOU'RE DOING THAT INCREDIBLY GOOD LOVE

‘Hey, where are you? It’s getting late’ WOW HE WOKE UP EARLY

‘I meant my house’ you told him and you felt his mood shift through the phone. MY WOMAN

‘I just am’ I'M IN LOVE🤭🩷

‘Like you said, it’s getting late and I’m tired so I’m gonna go to sleep’🫠🫠🫠🥹

The same routine happened for the next two nights, you staying at your flat and him texting you at a silly hour to see where you were. On the friday night you’d just got changed into your pyjamas when there were a few loud knocks on the door. You knew it was him immediately before you’d even answered the it but you still felt the shock roll through you at the sight of him when you eventually did. THE PIECE OF SHIT

‘Funny, I’ve been wanting to ask you the same question for days’ he said, walking inside suddenly and you shut the door with a gulp before turning to him. He was perched on the arm of your sofa and you cautiously walked towards him and stopped just out of his reach. ‘Are you gonna tell me why you’re here?’ CAUSE THAT'S MY HOME YOU MEANY

‘You haven’t spoken to me properly in weeks, Mason. This is probably the most you’ve said to me in so long but god forbid I do the same to you. You’ve really hurt me so is it any wonder I don’t want to talk to you?’ you told him, your voice sounding more vulnerable than you wanted it to and your heart broke even more when you realised it hadn’t effected him in any way. JUST SAYING THAT I'M PROUD OF YOU BABY GIRL

‘No I haven’t’ HE DIDN'T HAVE THE NERVE TO SAY THAT

‘I kiss you all the time’ I THINK YOU NEED A MEMORY CHECKUP LOVE

‘Well why didn’t you talk to me? I’m not a mind reader’ he snapped back defensively but it just angered you more. YOU'RE GETTING MY NERVES

‘I shouldn’t have to remind you of those things you should want to do it. The fact that you don’t hurts like hell. Every time I looked at you I just felt more alone and I have no idea what I did to make you act this way’ MY BABY GIRL🥺🥺🥺

‘I’ve been injured, y/n. I’ve had other things on my mind apart from you and what you need all the bloody time!’ He exploded. ‘You know how stupid I looked the other night? it’s my house, and you basically tell Ben you don’t want them there so they all go. That’s not your decision to make. I choose when people are there not you and I choose when i want all the other crap done. I haven’t asked you to do any of that and if you want it done then fine but that’s your call. You can’t make me do it.’ He ranted, your eyes filling with tears as he tore you to shreds. ‘As for the other stuff, maybe if you showed me an ounce of affection sometimes I might show it back’ HE DID NOT, PLEASE ☠️😩

You refused to let him carry on like this or show him how upset you were so you walked over to your front door and held it open, signalling you wanted him to leave and lucky for you he got up and walked out without a word. GOOD JOB BABY, I KNOW YOU'RE HURT NOW BUT HE DESERVED THAT

OH SOPH BABY🩷🩷🩷🩷

You weren’t sure if you were up for company but you hadn’t seen Soph in a while and you figured it would be good to get a second opinion and validate your feelings a little bit so you agreed, telling her you were at your flat and she promised to be there in the next hour or so. MY TWO WOMEN WE MISS JUST FREY NOW

‘I should be honest with you’ she told you shyly and you gulped down a nervous lump. ‘Mason came over last night for like an hour, him and Kai spoke but I wasn’t sure what it was about ’ HE WENT TO HIS BOYFRIEND TO ASK FOR ADVICES

‘Oh’ you breathed, wondering what Mason must of said to Kai and who’s side he would of taken. ‘I just don’t know what’s going on. Or what I did’ you sighed, rubbing your forehead as you shut your eyes. ‘He really blew up at me yesterday. Said I can’t make him do what he doesn’t want to and it’s not my place to say things to his friends. It just made me feel super small and like I don’t mean anything to him’ OH, SHE DOESN'T DESERVE ANY OF THAT, NOT AFTER ALL HER PAST

All the feelings you never wanted to feel again were sitting uncomfortably in your chest. Anger suddenly bubbling up inside you that he’d managed to convince you to let him in and then dropped you like it was nothing. It would be hard to start again on your own, but you told yourself that if this was it then you’d never trust a man again. You’d been on your own before and you could do it again but the voice in the back of your head was screaming just because you could didn’t mean you wanted to. I KNEW THAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN, AND I'M SO ANGRY

‘Why haven’t you been picking up? I thought you were dead’ HAHAHAHAH, I JUST LOVE HER

‘Well wake up, I need to borrow a top for tonight. I’ll be over in a sec’ OH SHIT, THIS GIRL HAS NOT A GOOD TIMING

‘Mothers intuition’ she told you and you rolled your eyes before following her into your room where she proceeded to flick through your wardrobe to find what she wanted. MY WOMEN KNOW EACH OTHER SOOOO WELL

‘I may have a date tonight’ WOODY?????

‘I know I’m sorry’ you breathed, your head falling into your hands as you took in a breath. ‘It’s all just a massive mess’ BABY

‘Listen, I’m so sorry but I need to shoot’ she told you, jumping up and you furrowed your brows at her sudden change of mood. MMM,DOES SHE HAVE SOMETHING IN HER GENIOUS MIND?

The sound of footsteps made you freeze though, thinking maybe she’d forgotten something and was coming back but you weren’t expecting to see Mason stood in your doorway. You carefully stood up, not knowing what to do but you could see his eyes were sad as soon as you looked at him. FREYYYY,AT LEAST TELL HER🤭🤣

‘Oh’ you breathed, looking down to the floor ‘So this was a set up?’ LISTEN FREY, I LOVE YOU BUT YOU DONT HELP THE ENEMY

OH, OK I FORGIVE YOU, YOU MADE YOUR JOB BEFORE🤭😏

‘Cause I think we should talk’ GOOD MORNING

‘Please don’t, Mase. Please don’t do this’ you sobbed, your chest tightening as you finally got some of your emotions out. ‘I can’t-‘ OH MY GOD, I FEEL SICK

‘Please don’t break up with me. I’ll do anything please just don’t leave me’ you sobbed, crying for the first time since this had all happened and it was like two months of pain were coming out at once. OMG I'M CRYING, SHE'S SO SCARED

You felt him shuffle to the side a little bit, rubbing his hand up and down your back gently as he placed his lips to you ear. ‘Lay down with me’ he whispered and you let him move you so you were half draped over him. His hand reached under your hoodie to stroke over you back in attempts to soothe you but it just made you cry harder. You hadn’t felt his skin against yours for so long and the goosebumps erupted almost immediately as you buried yourself into him further, letting him just hold you together. LAYING DOWN TO MAKE THE IMPORTANT TALKS IS THEIR THING

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed placing his lips on your forehead as fresh tears formed in your eyes. ‘I’ve been the prick of all pricks and you deserve so much better than what I’ve been giving you. Everything you said the other night was right and I knew it but I was too far up my own arse to agree with you’ HE WOKE UP, FINALLY

‘You didn’t do a thing, I promise. It was me and I’m so sorry it took me almost loosing you to realise’ he whispered, sadness crashing like a tidal wave in your tummy as your lip wobbled at his words. ‘When things go wrong, I have a tendency to self implode. After the surgery I got really down in the dumps and I couldn’t make it stop. And I knew I was hurting you, of course i did, but all I could focus on was myself. I know it’s not an excuse and it doesn’t suddenly make everything okay. I know it probably makes things worse actually’ he sighed and you felt your bottom lip tremble. OH BABY, YOU SHOULD HSVE WARNED HER BEFORE, DON'T YOU THINK?

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed, kissing your forehead and you gulped down a sob at the feel of his lips. ‘For all of it. For not talking to you and pushing you away, for making you feel like a stranger in your own home. For not helping out and leaving you to do all the work and for not telling you how much I love you every second of the day because I really really do’ he told you, tears spilling down his cheeks as he let you know how sorry he was and you felt the sobs you’d pushed down rise back up. Hiding in his neck again so you could cry the rest of your emotions out. YOUR OWN HOME🥹🥹🥹🥹

‘I thought you’d given up on me’ you said quietly, hearing him let out a shuddery breath at your words. ‘After everything I’d done for you after your injury it just felt like a massive kick in the teeth’ SCREAM THAT BABY

‘I’m so sorry’ he he told you, tears now running down his cheeks as you were spelling out how he made you feel. ‘it was never you I promise. Honestly? Every time you touched me I thought I was gonna break down. I didn’t want you to know how bad I was feeling and I knew if you showed me any affection then I was done for. You’re the only person in the whole world I can’t act around and I didn’t want you to think I was pathetic. But I went the complete other way and took you for granted cause I figured you’d always be around and I didn’t know what to do when you weren’t. I’m so sorry’ he told you, his voice cracking at the end as he started to cry himself so you held him closer to you. ‘This whole years been fucking shit and I let it get on top of me. You’ve been my light in the dark and I’m so ashamed of myself for how I’ve treated you’ MM,I LIKED THESE APOLOGISES

‘Come on’ you whispered, pulling his head into your neck so he could let his emotions out too. Yes you were upset but you hated seeing Mason like this. He was right, he’d had an awful time of it lately and whilst it didn’t give him permission to treat you how he had, you could see how he’d let it get to that point. SHE LOVES HIM SOOOO MUCH

‘You don’t have to answer right now. I know I’ve broken everything we had and it’ll take a while for you to trust me again but will you please come home? Cause it is your home, not just mine’ he told you quietly. ‘Or we can stay here tonight if you’re not ready yet. Or if you want me to go so you can think things through I will’ he added quietly but you knew knew you didn’t want to be without him now. I'VE GOT ELEPHANTS IN MY BELLY

‘I’ll come back’ you whispered with a small nod but you both made no attempt to move for a little while as you just held each other together for a bit, eventually falling asleep as you were both tired from crying. THEY ARE BACK,AND I THINK THEY ARE STRONGER

‘You okay?’ He whispered, nodding into his neck as you squeezed him a little tighter. SHE IS, FINALLY

‘Y/n?’ He whispered after a minute or two and you looked up into his glossy before moving yourself so you could straddle his thighs and cup his jaw. ‘I really am sorry’ OH,CUTIE MEANY BOY

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for’ he breathed ‘and no matter how bad things would of got the last thing is ever want is to be without you’ he confirmed as he squeezed your waist before you leaned forward to pull him into a hug. GOOD JOB

I LOVE YOU TWO TOO😌🩷

‘I wanna ask you something but I feel like the timing is super bad and weird’ he laughed but you looked at him encouragingly, confused about what he would want to ask you but you also curious. OOOO, I THONK I KNOW WHAT IT ISSS

‘Would you move in with me?’ He asked quietly, taking down a nervous gulp and continuing before you had a chance to say anything. ‘Like properly. I know it’s probably the weirdest thing I could ask after everything thats happened but I’ve hated being here without you’ he admitted. ‘Like I hate the way the way you could so easily leave and I know it sounds weird and toxic as fuck but I want you here now more than ever. And I know you like your own space but I’ve had an idea’ he told you, an excited look in his eye and even though you were shocked at what he was saying you were willing to hear him out. HE'S MY MAN, BAD TIMING? PROBABLY. THE CUTEST WAY TO ASK THAT? FOR SURE

‘Would you really give me a room?’ GIRL HE WOULD BUILD IT FROM THE BEGINNING FOR YOU TO SAY YES

‘You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but I just want you to know I’m serious about you. About us, you know? And I’m sorry it took me fucking it all up to actually show you’ OUR LOVELY MASON IS OFFICIALLY BACK😌🩷

‘Mase?’ ‘I’ll move in’ MY BABIES ARE OFFICIALLY STARTING THEIR FAMILYYYY

‘I’m sure. Yeah I love my flat but I love being with you more and it’s too much of a tie to my old life. I’m ready for a new beginning with you’ MY LOVE

‘I love you so much’ he whispered, pulling you in for a soft kiss that knocked the wind out of you. ‘You have my word that this or anything similar will ever happen again, okay? I promise you’ MM,I HOPE THAT

‘Well I have a little headache actually’ he pouted, causing you to pout back in sympathy. DESERVED😉

‘Here’ he smiled, pointing his finger to his lips. ‘It’s really painful’ 🙄🤣

‘If I told you my dick hurt would you kiss it too?’ HE DID NOT🤣🤣🤣

GIRL YOU CANT IMAGINE HOW MUCH I NEEDED THIS ANGST😌

YOU PUTTED ON THE MOVING AND THE FIRST BAD FIGHT, SO MY IDEAS ARE IN🤣

I FELT EVERY LITTLE EMOTION

I HATED HIM SO MUCH BUT WHEN HE TOLD HER THE REASON I UNDERSTOOD HIS BEHAVIOUR

I LOVED HOW YOU WROTE THIS, IT WAS EVERYTHING, HONESTLY? FAVORITES CHAPTER OF THIS 2 SERIES

I CAN'T WAIT FIR THE LAST 4 BUT AT THE SAME TIME I'LL MISS THEM SOOOOO MUCH

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR WRITING THOSE MASTERPIECES AND SHARING THEM WITH US

LOVE UUU🩷🩷🩷😌

These get longer each time and I love them 😌

I hated him too 😭 I really did he was so closed off and unreasonable just because he didn’t want to be seen as weak but they’re stronger now and I love them so much

Four more left I can’t believe it 😭

Thank you so much for all the time you take to write these I love them and you so much 🩷🩷🩷

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. EMT, this one is for you. Hope you enjoy. It is a quick one, but I tried to make it a little humourous…

(PS - as a total aside, I love Léo Ferré, so definitely consider this light persuasion to move him up your list, EMT. “Avec le temps” is one of the best songs ever written, in my humble opinion. Its lyrics are literal poetry. But I confess, I’m probably closer to Brigitte’s taste, based on what we know, than Emmanuel’s. I more of a pop/rock/electronic kinda gal. If people really care so they can judge my taste, I’ll share my favorite French artist with my next story.)

He had disappeared into the kitchen over two hours ago now, and it was the silence that was starting to worry her. Him, silent? That could never be good.

He had come home, carrying six or seven bags completely full of ingredients, struggling to make it through the door into the kitchen, protesting with a gentle - “No! This is supposed to be a treat for you! Go, sit on the couch, drink some wine, and relax.”

“Okay, but I’m right out here if you need me,” she offered, wary of how this would turn out, knowing his track record was full of well intentioned gestures that somehow ended up as messes such that she finds flour behind an upper cabinet’s door three days later.

“I always need you, but not for this. I want to treat you -“

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to! Now. Sit!”

“Yes, sir,” she teased, leaving him to his own devices.

And now, two hours and almost two full glasses of her favorite merlot later, he still was fiddling with something.

She was debating if she should go check on him. The rational part of her knew one, it was probably a disaster zone by now, and two, he would be mad that she would think so little of his skills she’d check up on him; but the irrational, panicky part of her, the one that knows when they leave for the Élysée in the morning if this place isn’t spotless they would be inviting every ant in Touquet into their kitchen, her control freak need to make sure everything was ok won out.

“Chéri,” she said gently, warning him she was encroaching on his space. “What the hell?” she asked when she finally was able to see the kitchen.

He turned around to face her, his sweet face covered in white powder like the rest of the countertop around him, hair sticking up from where he had hurriedly run his hands through it as he is wont to do when he is stressed, and what could only be charitably described as an industrial sized accident on the floor.

“I, uh, ran into some issues.”

“I can see that.”

“I bought the wrong kind of flour, so I substituted what we had for what I bought and that turned out weird, so I decided to scratch that, but then I dropped the first batch on the floor, and the cornstarch I was using as a thickener kinda exploded when I opened it -“

“Chéri, maybe it’s time to call it quits on this.”

“No! I wanted to treat you to a nice, homemade, romantic dinner. I wanted to make you feel special.”

“Mon cœur, every time you look at me, I feel special. You don’t need to cook for me.”

“Well, what are we going to do, then, because I refuse to have you cook.”

“How about take out? You pick the menu, even order the dishes. But if you really want to treat me -“

“Yes?”

“You’re cleaning up the mess this time.”

Helloooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Léo Férre is on my “to check next” list, don’t worry hahaha And I will check it, whenever the mood sends me to it 🤭

Thank you for writhing my piece 🥰❤️

Oh I’m so melting at the idea of an Emmanuel with his face covered in white powder and hair all over the place... and for now, this is my new fave mental image of him! 😻🤏🏻🥰🤤

Hahahaha having said that, I probably would have a little heart heart if I ever found my guy “destroying” the kitchen 😅🫣 hahahaha but making him clean it all up would also be the only possible way for me 😂

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[jordyn-degas]

Can I request Sasuke x reader first time blowjobing him but reader isn’t the one making the first move but sasuke somehow and how did it happen?

sorry sorry super sorry for the late reply - such a bad toothache you cannot believe it ARGHHH - i couldn't even think 😤😤 Uhhhh, that’s a way to tickle my brain and senses that’s for sure 👀 ANYWAYYYYYY - EXCITED FOR THIS TBH 🤩 it's my first stand alone oral scene - let's see how it goes here we go - enjoyyyyy my horny anonnnn 😈

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x gn!reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Genre: NSWF - characters aged up 21+

Warnings: MDNI! - smut - oral (male receiving) - cumshot

A strong, perfectly capable Shinobi as you were, with a spotless track record that had the ear of the Hokage, you could easily fling around your finger anyone you desired, yet you found yourself wrapped around the finger of none other than Sasuke Uchiha.

Or should you say wrapped around his dick? If truth was to be told, in all honesty, that is how this entire thing between the two of you started. By complete and utter accident, separate tables, separate bottles of sake and barely recognizing each other after all the years that have passed. Who were you kidding? You knew exactly who the brooding man was. Apparently, the alcohol was probably the only thing able to have an Uchiha loosen up enough to strike a conversation. Realizing who you were in the end, after another bottle of sake and too many stories to count, Sasuke dicked you down that night so good you stayed in bed the entire day after.

Apparently, your skills were absolutely stellar since Sasuke started coming back to the village more often, sometimes staying put for weeks, always with you, practically living together. Six months later, there you were, him sprawled on the couch with a book as you grabbed the grocery list from the kitchen.

“Do you need anything in particular?” you asked placing yourself in front of him.

“Yes.” Sasuke replied simply, his fingers latching onto your shorts and pulling your body towards him. “You.”

“Down, boy.” you chuckled taking two steps back where he could not reach. “After you eat me tonight, we still need dinner.”

“Not really.” he replied as his eyes darkened, a small and arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “If you really need your mouth stuffed that badly, I can help you with it.”

Eyes popping wide open, lips parted in shock, your breath hitched as a blush pinched your cheeks. Sasuke knew exactly what he was aiming for, the innuendos starting about a week ago. You brushed past them with grace but could not help yourself from thinking about it. It was not that you did not wanted, it was simply the fact that you have never done it for any man, not really feeling they were deserving of such pleasure. However, Sasuke? Oh, well, that was another conversation, scenes in which he slides his cock down your throat animating your imagination almost daily. The only fear you had was that of disappointment, of failure to pleasure him as he always pleasures you.

“Breathe.” Sasuke chuckled darkly. “You’ll pop a vein.”

Rolling your eyes, flustered beyond recognition, you rushed out of the house feeling the need of a big breath of fresh air. The simple idea of him wanting it and you doing it was sending jolts of pleasure right down your spine . God, he could be infuriating!

﹥﹥﹥

“I’m home.” you announced walking into the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.

“Can you come for a second?” Sasuke asked from the living room, detecting a hint of amusement and surprise in his tone. "Please."

Raising an eyebrow, you sighed and made your way towards the room. To say that your jaw hit the floor in embarrassment was an understatement. There he was in all his glory: Sasuke with his head tilted to the side, an amused expression while holding the book you’ve been hiding from him open to a very specific page you were interested in.

“Someone’s studying hard.” he said flicking a couple of signs you placed in between the pages.

“Sasuke, I ..” you tried to say but the voice betrayed you as he turned another page and hummed.

“You should have simply asked, love.” Sasuke said motioning for you to come to him. “I could’ve answered all of your questions.”

Obediently, you approached the man with a horrid embarrassment as his legs opened more than usual to welcome you in between. He motioned for you to bend over him slightly, his lips latching onto yours, a soft kiss electrifying your senses before his teeth pulled a bit on your lip, wanting, full of desire. When Sasuke was in the mood, the entire air was shifting, able to feel his want all over your body, hairs raising and goosebumps engulfing you from head to toe. His sexual magnetism was so effortless it always had you weak in the knees.

“Reading about how to give a blowjob?” Sasuke hummed pulling slightly back, his gaze meeting yours with undeniable lust. “I’m impressed.”

“Stop ..” you whispered. “It was a curiosity.”

“You’re embarrassed for no reason, love.” he spoke so softly it surprised you deeply, a smile gracing his delicious lips. “Are you still curious?”

“Yes.” you replied a bit too quickly, nodding, stomach flipping with anticipation and he chuckled lightly.

“Are you willing to kneel for me?” Sasuke asked raising an eyebrow knowing very well how you would usually put up a fight before he could fully subdue you.

Before he could even finish the question, you dropped to your knees, the arousal with which you left the house still there, raging. Sasuke smirked, your eyes quickly noticing the outline of his cock through the pants, hardening more by the second.

“Are you so eager to ..” Sasuke asked leaning forward until his nose brushed yours faintly, hand grabbing your chin, fingers squeezing lightly your cheeks and your lips parted with a sigh. “ .. show me how you can suck my cock?”

An innocent, unwilling moan slipped past your lips hearing his words, his chuckle following right after, laced with arousal. Your body trembled as Sasuke’s back hit the backrest of the couch, pants slipping off his body revealing the pair of boxers in which the dick that always drove you over the edge was painfully caged. He enjoyed this image terribly, the way you waited completely clueless, such an innocent face it was unbelievable, even after he knew very well what you could do in bed. Sasuke had an itching feeling that there was not much to teach you, always such a good student when it came to him. The look in your eyes gave it all away. You were more than ready.

Wasn’t he always right? As if the instinct guided you, palms resting on his knees before slowly making their way up, fingers grabbing the waistband of his boxers tightly as if wanting to rip them off, pulling them down while licking your lips. God, he adored how you always looked at his cock as if it was the best thing that has ever happened in your entire life.

When you released his throbbing member out of its material cage, it came out in all its glory, slapping against his pelvis deliciously. You took a moment to admire it. Long and thick before your eyes, knowing it could reach places in which no other man has ever went before, curved slightly upwards just enough, the perfect form to rub your most sweetest spot, protruding, small veins pulsing in arousal, the most obvious one running from the base of the shaft and stopping right at the tip. Lips parted slightly, mouth watery as beads of pre-cum leaked from the tip, length twitching slightly as you came even closer.

“Look at you.” Sasuke let a low growl rip. “You’re already drooling without even a taste.”

The corners of your mouth spilled a bit of saliva but you could not care anymore. You imagined and fantasized about this moment for quite some time, wandering if it could fit, if YOU could make it fit because you wanted it whole. A gentle hum resounded in between the two of you as you bit your lower lip seeing how his hard cock begged for the attention of your mouth. Fingers wrapping softly around the base, lips hovering over the tip causing Sasuke to inhale sharply and clench his teeth. The anticipation was absolutely killing him. Slowly, the tip of your tongue wanted to explore it in its entirety, letting it run up the length of his cock, from the base to the top.

"That's it." Sasuke shuddered at the touch. "Show me what you've been studying so hard for."

Eyes turning darker with lust, your lips kissed the tip, the saltiness of pre-cum tickling your taste buds, before enveloping your teeth, mouth in a perfect "O" shape as your hand started moving up and down. Your gaze snapped up to Sasuke that had his lips slightly parted, half-lidded eyes, chest raising up and down faster as seconds passed by. The moment you lowered your mouth on his throbbing shaft, a groan ruptured from his lungs and you moaned at the sensation, tongue wrapping around it in motions neither of you thought you knew. Saliva being spread along his cock, the hand wrapped at the base pumping into your mouth as you lowered your head more and more by the inch.

"You don't have to .." Sasuke tried to say but his head snapped backwards hitting the backrest as you could feel him deep in your throat. "FUCK!"

Muscles contracting around him, a sinful moan bouncing off the walls as you proudly met his expression, jaw dropped, licking his lips with hunger. Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes and you pulled back, removing him from your mouth with a delicious pop, hand beautifully working him, spreading your saliva and pre-cum from top to bottom. You took him in your mouth again, wanting to feel him as deep as possible, allowing your tongue to caress and explore each ridge and vein. Bobbing your head up and down at an even pace, enjoying every single bit of what his delicious member had to offer. He was squirming under you, cock twitching wanting to feel more of you, hips slowly raising unwillingly. Obliging, mouth swallowing the hardness entirely, your nose brushing his pelvis before pulling back. Not giving yourself time to breathe properly, you went in again finally adjusting to the way Sasuke's long, hard and heavy cock fitted perfectly inside your mouth and down your throat.

"God, you're perfect!" Sasuke said breathless, weak tone betraying the usual confidence, as he watched a string of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to the tip of his cock.

He could not believe how all your usual innocent demeanor flew out the window, a gaze filled with lust even darker than his. What truly impressed and pleasured him was that you didn't needed his help at all. It looked and felt as if it was not your first time at all. When you uttered the next word, he swore he could cum right there and then.

"More." you demanded, finger twirling the saliva string before putting it into your mouth and sucking it clean.

Sasuke knew exactly what you wanted and loved the fact that you knew it yourself without a single push from him. You always wanted more when he fucked you senseless every night and that was the case here as well. It was your life's pleasure to be dominated by him, to let him use you as he saw fit.

"P-please .." you pleased leaning in to lick his cockhead that was spilling pre-cum in anticipation.

Sasuke obliged without a single word, only a vicious grin, sign of planning to ravage you as always. Biting your lower lip, his palm made its way at the back of your head and pulled you closer, fingers grasping softly hair strands. A sneaky grin curved your lips dangerously before licking your lips, opening your mouth and letting your tongue roll out. Wanting to take him, you leaned in but were abruptly stopped as Sasuke held your head in place, teasing your tongue with the tip. A whimper slipped causing him to chuckle.

"So impatient." he clicked his tongue. "Craving my dick so much?"

You nodded with a slight desperation, eyes pleading for it, to taste it again and again.

"So fucking good." Sasuke purred.

At first, Sasuke pushed his cock along your tongue, making his way into your mouth slowly, lifting his hips further to slide down your throat. Not being in control had him go even further than anticipated which caused you to shut your eyes.

"Eyes up here, baby." he commanded. "You're doing so, so good."

Your eyes snapped wide open, boring into his as he pulled back and doing it two more times prepping you in his own way for what was about to come. The next time you felt his cock sliding down your throat was through only one sharp trust that left you to gag and choke. With the sounds and the scene before him, Sasuke almost blacked out. He guided your head up and down his length, twitching every single time it hit the back of your throat before picking up the pace. The intensity of his hips mercilessly thrusting into your mouth and the speed with which he fucked your face had the eyes roll into the back of your head, moans vibrating throughout both of your bodies almost sending him over the edge. Sasuke mercilessly rammed his cock into your mouth, slamming the back of your throat with each thrust, tears gracing your beautiful eyes, spit trickling from the corners of your mouth, down his length and on the carpet.

"Fuck, baby! FUCK!” Sasuke moaned as never before nestling himself into your throat, feeling it contracting as your tongue playfully twirled around. "Your mouth was made to take my cock."

Your muffled moans massaged him all around, the dominance of the moment and the praising making you feel dizzy, not wanting for him to ever pull out. Sasuke brought his other hand to your head, now both holding it as he began fucking himself with the help of your mouth. Everything about it was messy, sloppy, degrading and absolutely dirty as the squelching of your saliva being shoved back into your throat by his cock was mixed with the groans and moans you two allowed to escape. When the constant twitching of his shaft graced your mouth, you knew he was about to cum and your tongue started darting over every single bit of skin.

"F-Fuck!" Sasuke groaned loudly as the way your tongue rolled around his cock while he fucked your pretty, little mouth was bringing him to the edge, stomach clenching and vision tunneling. "I-I'm gonna .."

Feeling as he was about to pull out, you locked your jaw around him, the sudden gesture having Sasuke lose all sense of reality and shoot all of his warm, sticky cum down your throat, filling up every inch of your mouth. Raising your head after he pulled out, Sasuke was eyeing the ceiling, chest raising up and down faster, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he came down from his high. With a satisfied smile, you swallowed his cum with proudness and crawled up into his lap, his fingers trailing up and down your spine.

"Good then?" you asked placing kisses along his jaw.

"Fucking perfect." he sighed deeply. " But .. where did you get that book from?"

"Oh, that?" you chuckled. "Kakashi gave it to me."

Sasuke held back a laugh - That explained it.

[imreallyloveleee]

The Mysterious Disappearance of the Girl No One Knew

Chapter 4: The Captive Dinner Guest

“We’re just throwing a dinner party for an old friend.” Betty grabs a lighter from the kitchen drawer where they keep odds and ends, and begins to light the candles placed around the dining area next to the living room. “What’s weird about that?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Veronica turns the burner to its lowest setting, and removes her apron — somehow, still spotless — which she hangs carefully on a hook beside the stove. “Maybe the fact that he’s not your friend, he never was your friend, and the only reason you want to talk to him now is that you think he murdered his ex-girlfriend.” 

“For the eight millionth time, Veronica, she’s not dead.” Jughead hops up onto the counter, letting his legs dangle. “We just think he might be the reason she’s on the run.”

read chapter 4 on ao3. (or start from the beginning.)

[disastermages]

[read it on ao3]

“Shijie, how do I make soup?” Wei Wuxian wrestles the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he tries and fails to dig through Lan Zhan’s pots and pans quietly. He needs a stock pot, Wei Wuxian knows that much, and carrots and celery and onions. That’s how Jiang Yanli starts most of her soups, he’s seen her cook and pretended to help her enough times to know that.

On the other end, Wei Wuxian hears Jiang Yanli hum laugh softly, “A-Xian, if you’re hungry, you can just come over, I’ll even send you home with leftovers.” It makes Wei Wuxian smile, but he shakes his head, even though his sister can’t see him.

“It’s not for me, Shijie, Lan Zhan is sick, and I want to make something to help him feel better.” Lan Zhan still hadn’t even admitted to being sick by the time Wei Wuxian had convinced him to lay back down. Lan Zhan had been too tired and too uncertain on his feet to argue, not that he could have stopped Wei Wuxian from putting him to bed.

They were supposed to go out for dinner, but Wei Wuxian had canceled that reservation while he sat beside Lan Zhan, running his fingers through sweat-dampened hair.

“Oh! Well that is different, now isn’t it?” Jiang Yanli’s voice only sounds more amused now, and distantly, Wei Wuxian hears clattering on her side of the phone call, “Do you have chicken broth?”

“Lan Zhan has some vegetable broth from Xichen-ge.” There’d been uncertainty on Lan Zhan’s face the first time he’d told Wei Wuxian that Lan Xichen had taken up cooking, but he was getting better at it.

“That will work just fine, A-Xian.”

Slowly, Jiang Yanli walks her younger brother through the process of making a simple soup, her voice gentle and encouraging, even as she reminds Wei Wuxian not to let the onions and garlic scorch in the pan, because it will make the soup bitter.

“My XianXian is growing up.” Jiang Yanli sounds as if she’s speaking to herself, but it makes Wei Wuxian pause, mushrooms in his hands hovering above the stock pot he’d had to climb half way into Lan Zhan’s cabinets for.

“XianXian is three, he can’t even make soup by himself, he needs his Shijie to hold his hand.” Only when he can laugh at himself does Wei Wuxian finally drop the mushrooms into the soup. Carrots and potatoes roll to the top while the stock boils.

He expects Jiang Yanli to play along with him just like she always does, he waits for her to insist that he’s only a year old, but instead she pauses, though not unkindly. “A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli sounds more serious than Wei Wuxian has heard her in a very long time, “you’re making soup for Lan Wangji because you care for him, right? You’re going to want to add some rosemary now, there’s no need to cut it, just make sure you pull out the sprig after the soup has simmered.”

Wei Wuxian dutifully adds the rosemary, the smell of it spreading through his chest and widening like warmth, “Of course I care for him! He’s my… He’s my Lan Zhan.” They hadn’t named whatever it was that they’re doing, but it’s true enough, isn’t it? Lan Zhan is Wei Wuxian’s Lan Zhan. “Do I need to add anything else?”

“You can add some tofu if you like. When you found out he was sick, did you have to think about it, or did you just go right into taking care of him?”

Reluctantly, Wei Wuxian steps away from the stove long enough to look inside Lan Zhan’s fridge for the tofu, jars and bottles clinking in both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli’s ears while Wei Wuxian pulls the tofu out of a stack with one hand. The soup is still on the stove, unscorched and free of ruin when Wei Wuxian comes back to it.

“I just did it, I guess, I wanted to.” He hadn’t been able to find Lan Zhan’s thermometer and Lan Zhan couldn’t stay awake long enough to tell him where it was, so in the end, Wei Wuxian had kissed Lan Zhan’s forehead and found him to be burning with fever. He’d taken off his leather jacket and set to work trying to take care of Lan Zhan after that.

“You’ll need to cut the tofu, but don’t make it too small.” There’s the light, metallic tapping of Jiang Yanli’s tasting spoon against her stockpot, still spotless, but far more used than Lan Zhan’s. Wei Wuxian nods again and picks up the knife he’d pulled out of Lan Zhan’s kitchen drawers, his sister had told him to find one that felt right in his hand. Wei Wuxian cannot see Jiang Yanli, but he knows that she’s thinking hard about something, her nose wrinkling slightly and her mouth pulling into that small, thoughtful frown.

“A-Xian, do you know that I’m proud of you?” The chunks of tofu land in the pot with wet plops, but Jiang Yanli doesn’t give her brother the chance to ask her what she’s proud of, “I know you don’t like cooking, and you say that you don’t know how to care for someone who’s sick, but you’re trying very hard for Lan Wangji. You could have called Lan Xichen, and he would have come running over to take care of him, but you’ve done it without a second thought. You are growing up, and you’re growing up well.”

“Shijie,” Wei Wuxian starts, but he can’t finish, something big is blocking his throat and making his eyes sting, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“You’ll need to let the soup simmer for a while before you can serve it, keep it stirred, and in the meantime, you should do the dishes and clean up any messes you made while you were cooking.” Jiang Yanli’s own voice sounds wobbly and emotional, now, but it doesn’t mask the pride shining like the sun through storm clouds. “You should serve it to Lan Wangji with some crackers, or maybe toast, it’ll settle his stomach a little.”

Finally, Wei Wuxian can speak, a smile spreading slowly across his face, “Should I call you and ask you how to make toast?”

Jiang Yanli laughs at the joke and sets the lid onto her own pot, “Xianxian could blacken the toast completely, and I think Lan Wangji might still eat it, but only because you made it for him.”

They only talk for a while longer before they both hang up and Wei Wuxian starts to clean up his messes, chasing after thin, wispy onion skins with the broom and wiping down spills that have long since hardened while he was too busy to clean them. He looks in on Lan Zhan, still sleeping, and digs through the cabinets again to find the tea Lan Zhan only drinks on special occasions.

There’s nothing left for Wei Wuxian to do after the tea is brewed and steeped, so he sets about gathering up a tray, taking care to slice the toast into crustless triangles, just the way he’d seen Jiang Yanli do for him and Jiang Cheng when they were younger. With his hands full, Wei Wuxian is grateful that he’d left Lan Zhan’s door open just a crack, though he still kicks it closed as gently as he can.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian calls, setting the tray down on the empty side of the bed, his side of the bed, to lean over Lan Zhan and shake him gently, “it’s time to wake up, Lan Zhan.” He knows he shouldn’t, but he still fixes a kiss to Lan Zhan’s temple, and then his cheek. Lan Zhan wakes up slowly, his eyes still heavy and his skin somehow paler, even as he stares up at Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Ying.” The roughness of Lan Zhan’s voice digs itself right into Wei Wuxian’s heart, and for one moment his smile falters.

“I made you something special, Lan Zhan, it’s going to help you feel better.” Wei Wuxian pulls the tray into his own lap, but Lan Zhan looks at it doubtfully, though he still makes the effort to try and smell it.

“Wei Ying made this?” He asks, and Wei Wuxian beams. He hadn’t burned anything or added too much spice, the broth hadn’t even turned red.

“I called Shijie for help, but I did all the work by myself, I even cleaned the kitchen after I was done.” The statement is half meant to brag, and half meant to settle any worries Lan Zhan might have about a mess left behind in the kitchen.The way his eyes widened minutely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Lan Zhan takes the spoonfuls carefully as Wei Wuxian offers them to him, bleary eyes still glancing up at Wei Wuxian, disbelief mixed with something else that Wei Wuxian can’t name, but it fills him with hope.

“Wei Ying should not have gone to so much trouble, I cannot taste it.” Lan Zhan admits once the bowl is finished, his hand drifting towards Wei Wuxian’s knee. There’s guilt building up on Lan Zhan’s face like storm clouds, dark and heavy, before Wei Wuxian covers Lan Zhan’s hand with his own, thumb swiping back and forth in a quiet attempt at comfort.

“I wanted to do it, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian says softly, lifting Lan Zhan’s hand up and kissing it quick, “You know you can’t stop me or change my mind when I decide that I want to do something.” Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop Lan Zhan when he decided he truly wanted to do something either, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t bring that up now, not as he sets his other hand onto Lan Zhan’s back to guide him to lay on his shoulder.

Lan Zhan’s arms wrap around Wei Wuxian’s neck easily, the movements comfortable and automatic.

“Wei Ying will get sick like this.” Lan Zhan insists, his voice stubborn and childish, even as he makes no attempt to pull away, if anything, his arms tighten.

“If I do, will Lan Er-gege take care of me?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan’s answer is automatic and unquestioning. Wei Wuxian buries his face in Lan Zhan’s hair for it, breathing in the scent buried underneath sweat and sick. “Will Wei Ying make more soup later?”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t stop himself from laughing before he gives Lan Zhan another kiss, this time pressed to his jaw. “You don’t know how much soup I made, Lan Zhan, I can warm it up for you as many times as you want.” He’d made too much, really, but Jiang Yanli had said that was normal.

“I want to be able to taste your cooking.” Lan Zhan insists, and Wei Wuxian kisses him again, on his forehead and on both of his cheeks.

“You will, Lan Zhan, you won’t be sick forever.” It was only a cold, or maybe a flu, but Lan Zhan will get better, Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Wei Wuxian knows that he should get up and he should wash the dishes that they’d used, but when he tries, Lan Zhan only holds onto him tighter and refuses to look at Wei Wuxian for a long moment. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

“I will, Lan Zhan, I will.”

Wei Wuxian would stay as long as Lan Zhan would have him.

He would take care of him as long as he was allowed to.

[xbunnybunz]

hiii how r u doing? hopefully, u're doing well! no pressure here, take your time as much as u need! ben park - 🧺💕💧🎁🍽

EMOJI CHARACTER ASKS - BEN PARK

🧺— Random domestic headcanon

🧺When you and Ben live together, you will realize that this man is seriously such a 🥵 hot 🥵 mess. He doesn't organize things by color or size, but functionality. For this reason, you will open the kitchen cabinet and find that his favorite barbeque sauce 🍖 is easier to reach than plates and silverware. 😕😕😕 You could totally drag over a chair to get items, but why do that when you can just ask Ben to put all his 5 feet 11 inches to use? 😏

🧺 Other than this weird method of organizing, Ben has no other form of neatness. 😢😢 His keys are always lost because he throws them left and right when searching for a comfy shirt, his wallet somehow always ends up in the washing machine, and none of his socks match. 🧦 You'll often find him asking "Hey, did you see my grey sock anywhere? Ohhhh, where'd you get that? No, that's not what I'm looking for but I lost that one a few weeks ago, thanks!" 🤔

🧺Even though he's messy, he's always sure to keep your spaces clean. 🥺🥺🥺 Do you like relaxing on the porch? He's sure to sweep the leaves off your favorite chair and set out a refreshing drink. 🥰 Do you just like watching television after getting home? The den will be spotless, pillows fluffed, warm dinner on the table. Do you just want to sleep after a long day at work? No worries, he's already in the bed waiting to be big spoon. 💞

💕— What makes them feel connected to their partner?

💕Ben Park is a relatively simple and straightforward person. When he wants something, he will always vocalize it. If he dislikes something, he'll let you know. 👍 This being said, feeling connected to his partner is also very straightforward: he loves wrapping his arms around you. 🤗🤗

💕He's a big ol' teddy bear. 🐻🐻🐻

💕He will sling his arms around you no matter where you are, what you're doing, or who is around to see. He doesn't care what other people say and will do practically anything for an excuse to hold you. Huh? Your back hurts? 👐 Here, let him put his arms around your waist. What? You have a headache? 👐👐 Oh, okay. Let him put his arm around your shoulders. Say what? That has nothing to do with the pain? Sure, whatever you say. By the way, can he have a hug?👐👐👐👐

💧— Random angst headcanon

💧Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night in a panic, sweating bullets, eyes wide and clutching his injured arm. 🌃🌃 It's been years since the event, but he still has nightmares about it. 💪 Not just about being hurt... But also about being unable to protect those he cares for. 😓😓

💧You've tried to fix him a warm drink ☕ after he was jolted from another nightmare, but he held onto your shirt and refused to let go. "Where are you going? Can you come back here please?" 🥺

💧Ben can usually handle himself and doesn't need you to comfort him after he wakes up, but still appreciates the soothing. He will gladly accept any hugs, kisses, backrubs, or pats on the back while he reorients himself and stretches out his arm. ("yaknow. just in case, haha.") He jokes about it afterwards, but it always breaks your heart to know that although he's so strong and so brave, he's still scared. 🥺🥺

🎁— What kind of gifts do they like to give? What do they like receiving?

🎁Ben is a big fan of practical gifting, partially because he's friends with Alex Go and they have always gifted on a needed basis. One of them kicked the soccer ball too far? ⚽ Here, early birthday present! Shoes are scuffed from shenanigans? 👟👟 Merry Christmas!

🎁Once you're friends with Ben, nearly every other day is a holiday. Somehow, he notices things you might want even if you don't really need it. ("Hey, check this out! New gel pens! I saw you stopped writing with that sparkly purple one and thought maybe you'd want a new one. Wait, where'd that come from? Uh, so you didn't lose it? ...Well, now you have two!") 🖊️🖊️🖊️

🎁When you're dating him, the amount of shit you get from him will be ridiculous. He considers food an "essential" so he will always pack an EXCESSIVE amount of homemade lunches 🍲🍲🍲 for you, which you always struggle to choke down. It doesn't taste bad, his cooking is actually REALLY GOOD. He just makes so much of it. 😭😭 Eventually, you learned to buy a lunchbox and ask him to fill that instead. No more overstuffing for you! 😂

🎁Ben likes receiving physical affection much more than gifts. He's not a materialistic person, and as long as he has all his fingers and toes he won't think gifts are necessary. If you gift him anything though, he'll still act ecstatic. 🤗🤗🤗 ("Wow! Is this shirt really for me? How did you know I wanted something in this material?" "Woah, is this a door-mounted pullup bar? I broke my last door with one of these, but I can always try the kitchen!") (He installed the pullup bar on the kitchen doorframe and promptly that broke too. RIP 😭)

🍽— Do they do a lot of cooking?

🍽I am so glad you asked because yes the fuck he does. Ben is the best person to spend a weekend with, he loves cooking and will absolutely make a seven course meal for you if you spend the night. Bed n' breakfast? More like Ben n' breakfast. (which is, by the way, much better than motel food. 😏😏😏)

🍽Ben is careless and clumsy when it comes to most things, but when he's cooking 🍳 he turns into a completely different person. Any precautions you can think of will be taken to ensure the food is PERFECT. 👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳 He's got food scales, measuring cups, thermometers, canning jars with measurement marks-- everything!

🍽You've once joked with him that the only thing missing from his measuring collection was a pyrex beaker 🧪, but he just stared at you in confusion. "A beaker? What, like the thing on a bird's face?" Forgive him. He's Ben Park. 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️

🍽Beaker or no beaker, his food comes out IMMACULATE. 😗😗 No matter what he's cooking, you better bet your ASS it's coming out with with michelin stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐. You don't know where the fuck the boy learned to cook like this, but you assume it's because he eats anywhere and everywhere he goes. Meats will be tender and juicy, veggies roasted to crisp perfection, soups creamy, and desserts baked to a golden yellow hue. Goddamn. You're lucky. 🤤🤤

[calif0rnia-lovers]

sweet as pie.

a/n: please join me in welcoming sam wilson to the page. first story dedicated to this classic man, surely not the last.

pairing: sam wilson x black!reader

rating: 💙

main masterlist | taglist | divider © @whimsicalrogers

sum: sam is home. although times have changed, his sister’s intentions for him have not. sarah would love for her brother to settle down, and she knows the perfect person to make him do it. but when sam gets caught up with work, he misses the date sarah has set up for him.

words: 2.3K

It’s funny how the human mind works.

How easily certain moments can slip through its cracks. Names, dates, songs, conversations, faces lost to the wind, never to be remembered again. In the same turn, how those same things can be retained, recited down to the last detail in perfection.

Sam Wilson has seen enough in his lifetime--more than most men. No one could condemn him for forgetting the smallest of details from time to time. Sometimes he does. He is human. But, strangely, he can never forget a single detail when it comes to you.

Sam can still remember the first time he saw you.

The coffee-colored, cardboard box you carried in your arms--'living room' written across the front panel in your mother’s flawless penmanship. The dark curls pineappled to rest atop the crown of your head--a last-ditch attempt of fighting the Louisiana heat. The oversized Purple Rain t-shirt faded from too many runs through the wash. The round, black sunglasses sliding down the brim of your nose as you paused to take note of the boy watching you from his front window. Down to the scuffed, worn high tops that could barely pass for white.

He even remembers the soft smile you gave him once he froze--too embarrassed to move from the window after being caught watching you for the third time--before turning to lug the box up the steps of your front porch.

It was the summer of ‘94, and Sam Wilson was running late. He was expected to be at the docks assisting his father. Instead, he was peeping around his mother’s powder blue curtains, attempting to score glimpses of his new neighbors. Primarily their teenage daughter.

It’s not every day that Delacroix welcomes a new resident--let alone an entire family. Later that night, over dinner, his mother shared that you were entering your senior year--same as him.

He still remembers the knotting of his stomach. The strange and unusual experience of being tongue-tied when he’d tripped over his name--his name for god’s sake--that morning, you opened your front door to find him and Sarah on the other side. The kindness of your dark brown eyes as they met his, the soft giggle you released as you ignored his sputtering to accept the chocolate chip cookies his mother sent her children to deliver.

He also remembers the vision of you in your wedding dress. The smile he had to keep plastered on his face the night he learned his skepticism, surrounding death by broken heart, faded. You’ve never felt pain until you’ve seen the woman you love marry another man.

Sam must admit. When he returned, he expected--hoped--that those feelings would have disappeared. That they would have been erased from his life. Only, the moment he returned home, Sam discovered those feelings remained--were stronger even.

Five years later, he found you in the same house. Your parents no lived there. After their return from the blip, they packed up their things. Suddenly, tackling their bucket list was their main priority. You still had your husband’s last name but no husband. He was gone, lost to a younger woman.

Five years later, and Sam Wilson finds himself still frozen by the sight of you.

The long-sleeved maroon shirt he’s tugged on is not his number one choice. It’s all he had in his bag. The time on his watch had forced him into an ultimatum. Either run home, shower, and change into the outfit Sarah helped him pick out and risk being five hours late. Or head straight to your house, and risk being four hours and forty-five minutes late.

Sam opted for the latter.

Flowers in hand, he stands in the gateway of your backyard. His eyes admire the glow of the string lights against your skin. The yard has been transformed. Several tables and chairs, enough to host the entire neighborhood, squeezed into its space. Filled with music and laughter a few hours before the backyard is now quiet. Only the sounds of crickets, and the rustle of the trash bag in your hand, can be heard over the racing of Sam’s heart.

“Hey.” Sam takes a step forward, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Late is an understatement.” You don’t bother looking up from the plates stacked in your hands. Dumping them into the black trash bag, you move towards the next table. “You missed the entire party.”

After dumping the trash, you realize that Sam is no longer in the backyard. You find him in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Sam glances up from the soap-covered glass in his hands. “Helping you clean up.”

You glance around the kitchen, only to find that he’s managed to wash nearly the entire stack of dishes you’ve been dreading the entire night.

“I didn’t realize you still did stuff like this,” you tease. “What with you running off to save the world. Figured you’d just hire someone to do it for you.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I got you to keep me humble,” he winks.

Sam dries his hands with the bumblebee printed hand towel, a satisfied grin on his lips as he takes in the spotless kitchen. He’s too busy admiring his handiwork to realize you’re standing alongside him.

He turns, the snarky comment he’s prepared lost in his throat as he takes you in.

You can’t deny him a smile as you watch his eyes widen, a boyish grin brightening his face as he takes in the plate you’re holding. On it rests a single slice of homemade apple pie, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and perfectly drizzled caramel.

“I think you’ve earned this.”

“You saved me a piece?”

“No,” you sigh, allowing your eyes to roll. “I actually saved it for me. But if I have to look at your pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes one more second--”

“You were hoping I’d show up.” The grin on Sam’s face has morphed into a trademark smirk, the sight pulling a giggle from your lips. “You and I both know you don’t save, or share your pie with just anyone.”

Sam’s observation is spot on.

You don’t share your pie--or food, for that matter--with just anyone. In the chaos of hosting the neighborhood, you didn’t have a moment to stop and enjoy your own party. Let alone a slice of the apple pies you’d spent the previous night preparing.

Apple pies--specifically yours--were Sam Wilson’s true weakness.

The moment he sees you lugging home a bag full of granny smith and macintosh apples, he’s on full helicopter mode. You’re not sure how he knows, but he’s got a radar. One that somehow allows him to prophesize the exact moment the pies are out of the oven and set aside to cool.

He’ll show up, stopping by to say hi, or to see if you still need the drainpipe your ex-husband never got around to working on fixed, or to “pass along a message” from Sarah--as though your best friend couldn’t pick up the phone and call. Whatever the excuse Sam Wilson always manages to be the one to get the first slice of your apple pie. He’s smart enough to know that once the children of the neighborhood catch a whiff, they’ll show up on your doorstep. And as much as he loves the kids--Sam isn’t letting them steal his pie.

Sam’s words come out muffled through a mouthful of apples and crust. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Y/N. You should sell these. You'd make a killing.”

“And I’ve already told you, it’s just for fun,” you dismiss his advice, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “Besides, what do you expect me to do? Quit my good paying--although painstakingly boring--job in the hopes that enough people will like my baking to keep me afloat?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Sam nods, a smile growing as he watches your eyes roll.

It’s a conversation the two of you have had for years. Here is the rundown of how it plays out--every single time.

Sam: suggests that you finally open up the bakery you’ve been talking about since your teenage years.

You: dismiss his words of advice, reminding Sam that most teenage dreams are foolish.

Sam: ends the conversation with, “I’d show up every day for a piece.”

You: spend the rest of the night wondering if he’s right, about taking the chance, only to psych yourself out before going to bed.

“I’m just saying,” Sam sighs, sliding the plate to the side. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned. Life is going to pass you by, regardless, no matter what you do. If you give it a shot, and it fails--which is never going to happen--your life isn’t going to end.”

You glance up from the table, a tiny smile on your lips as you take in his soft smile.

“Maybe you’re right,” you shrug. “If all else fails, I’ll just tell everyone it’s the Falcon’s favorite pie--”

“You’ll have people flooding in from across the country.”

“It’s settled,” you giggle. “I’m using you in my business model.”

“Hey,” Sam chuckles. “As long as I get a cut, I’m not complaining.”

A silence falls over the tiny kitchen as your gaze drops from his.

Sam lightly raps his knuckles against the table before pushing his chair back.

“Uh—I should probably head out. You’re probably tired. I just wanted to come by and apologize...again.”

“Wow,” the light laugh you release halts Sam’s act of standing up. “The second you get what you came for you hit the ground running?”

The response is automatic. The chance to tease him is one you never pass up.

Sam’s brow raises as he takes in your smile.

“That’s not what I came for,” he admits.

“What did you come for then?”

“To ask you over to my place for breakfast tomorrow.”

The proposition hangs in the air, Sam nearly squirming in his seat as you take your time studying his gaze. You let out a sigh, your shoulders shrugging lightly, once you finally speak.

“I don’t know, Sam” You shake your head. Picking up the plate, you stand and cross the kitchen to the sink. “You just have so many responsibilities, nowadays, running around trying to save the world--”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he’s quick with the reassurance. “Or any day, until we get through that date you promised me.”

You turn to face him, arms crossing over your chest as he comes to a stop before you.

“Say I show up. You have to promise me something.”

“Whatever you want.”

He knows that promise can end up being a slippery slope, depending on how hard you’re willing to make him work for it.

“If something comes up, in the future, you call me. And you tell me exactly why you can’t be here. Nobody gets to stand me up. Not the Falcon. And sure as hell, not Sam Wilson. Understood?”

Sam’s eyes drop to your interlaced fingers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Standing on your toes, you place a kiss against his cheek. “Now, go get some sleep. You’re making me breakfast in the morning. I’m expecting waffles, bacon, freshly squeezed O.J.--the works.”

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[stolen-pen-name23]

Hi Katie!! Congrats on the one year of writing🥰!! Can I request a number 28 with Padme and Obi-wan? Maybe he ended up on Naboo somehow after an awful mission and she was there to make sure he was okay?

Hello hello, my friend and thank you!! prompt fill from these prompts//prompts now closed

In what I'm sure will be very surprising to you all, what I intended as a 500-word fic turned into 2.6k, so I've posted it on Ao3, but the whole thing can be read below the cut!

Read on Ao3

Here ya go!

---

“I’m really sorry to ask this of you, but I quite literally need a place to crash.”

Padmé took in the blue, glowing form of her husband’s master and sighed. “Well, if you’re going to crash anywhere, Master Kenobi, I suppose I would rather it be here.”

“Thank you, Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan said cordially. “It will be a controlled crash, I assure you. Really more like a bumpy landing than anything. I’ll keep it on the runway. All will be well.”

“Right,” Padmé sighed. “I’ll have firefighter droids on standby.”

“It is good to be cautious I suppose,” Obi-Wan admitted. He turned to the side and coughed into his elbow.

“Are you alright?” Padmé asked, concerned.

“Never better.”

Padmé narrowed her eyes at him, but his face remained impassive as always.

“Well then, I guess I’ll see you sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll see you soon, Senator,” Obi-Wan said before he shut off the line of communication.

Padmé’s lips tightened into a thin line as she worried over the Jedi that was about to fall at her feet.

“See you soon,” Padmé said to an empty room.

He’ll be fine. He’s Obi-Wan. He’s always fine.

***

And he was fine.

The ship crash-landed, but as far as crash landings go, his went pretty smooth.

Padmé met him at the wreckage of his ship.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Senator,” Obi-Wan greeted cordially as he crawled out of the smoldering remains of his starfighter. Grease was streaked on his forehead just over his eye and his cheeks were flushed.

“Are you quite alright, Master Kenobi?”

“Yes, though losing my only means of transportation is not my ideal situation.”

“You are welcome to borrow any of our—”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid Anakin was quite insistent that he pick me up. Funny how he never volunteers for such things when I’m on other planets isn’t it?”

Padmé gave him a nervous laugh.

“No matter. It is easier than having to bring an extra ship back..”

“Yes, of course,” Padmé said quickly. “I suppose you’ll be needing a place to sleep then?”

“I can make do just about anywhere,” Obi-Wan said. “But if you are offering a room, I will gladly accept one.”

“Of course, Obi-Wan. You are always welcome in our halls. Or in this case, the Lake House. I think you will be more comfortable there.”

Obi-Wan glanced at all the onlookers gathering around the fallen ship and the senator and the Jedi standing beside it.

“This Lake House you speak of… Are there fewer people there?”

“Yes.”

“Then, by all means, take me to it.”

They walked side by side, though Obi-Wan followed her lead. She did not miss the way Obi-Wan kept his gaze away from the numerous onlookers.

Padmé laughed to herself.

“Is something funny, senator?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, for a people person, you never seem to really enjoy being around them.”

“Who said I was a people person?”

“Oh please, Master Kenobi,” Padme said. “You cannot tell me you are unaware of your own silver tongue? They don’t call you the Negotiator for nothing.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard as if pondering the thought.

“I don’t know if that necessarily qualifies me as a people person.”

“I’ve seen you at senatorial dinners. You’re good with people. You know how to talk to them.”

Obi-Wan blushed. “I suppose certain diplomatic skills are necessary when you’re a Jedi.”

“Don’t be so modest. The ability to work a room is one that doesn't come naturally to most. You would make a fine politician.”

Obi-Wan’s expression turned sour. “You insult me.”

“All I’m saying is you’re good at getting people to give you what you want. And don’t even get me started on all the flirting you do, I mean—”

“Fine, I won’t,” Obi-Wan said quickly. “Your point has been made.”

“Good, as long as we’re on the same page.”

Obi-Wan smirked but stumbled over his feet. Padmé reached out for him and clutched his elbow. He steadied himself and shook his head.

“Obi-Wan,” Padmé said. “You didn’t hit your head when we landed, did you?”

“No, no of course not.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want a concussed Jedi on my hands. Though it would not be the first time,” she smirked.

“No, it would not be,” Obi-Wan smiled back.

The senator and the Jedi reached a speeder with a driver and a guard in the front. Obi-Wan opened the door and Padmé slid into the back seat easily. Obi-Wan followed right behind her.

“It is not a long drive to the Lake House,” Padmé said. “I’m sure you’re eager to get some rest.”

“Quite,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, Senator. No need to worry over me.”

Padmé did not agree with his sentiments, but she did not argue with them either. Instead, she remained silent the rest of the ride to the Lake House. The cool, evening breeze blew baby hairs out of her tightly pulled-back bun.

Padmé turned back to Obi-Wan, but he was slightly slumped over and fast asleep. She quietly snapped a holo photo of him and sent it to Anakin.

Her message to him read: “I have your Master. He’s my hostage now.”

“Oh, so you’re going to make me pay a ransom? What do I owe you?” Anakin replied.

“Oh, I’ll think of something, love.”

“Looking forward to it. I’ll be there in the morning. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Padmé snapped her comm shut and smiled to herself. She was glad Obi-Wan was not awake to see the stupid grin on her face.

***

“Master Obi-Wan. Wake up,” Padmé said quietly, shaking the Jedi’s shoulder. “We’re here.”

Obi-Wan blinked at her groggily. “Where…?”

“We’re at the Lake House.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said. He yawned and blinked tired eyes at her.

“Come on. You’re exhausted. Let’s go inside.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement and followed Padmé out of the speeder and into the Lake House.

“This is a beautiful home,” Obi-Wan said, casting his gaze across every wall and wooden beam.

“Thank you, I would offer to give you the full tour, but you look dead on your feet.”

Obi-Wan smiled gratefully at her. “Perhaps in the morning, Senator.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Let me show you to your room.”

Padmé led him up the staircase and guided him to the guest suite. She opened the door and motioned for him to come in.

The room was one of the largest in the whole home. Large tapestries with traditional Nubian art adorned the walls and a large bed with a white duvet was centered against the back wall. Bay windows overlooked the lake and had a bench seat for guests to curl up in a quiet place for reading or meditation. In other words, it was the perfect place for Obi-Wan.

“This is more than generous. Thank you, Padmé,” Obi-Wan said, taking in the opulent room before him.

“Anytime,” Padmé said. “Do you need anything else? Do want something to eat before you go to bed?”

Padmé did not miss the way Obi-Wan’s skin seemed to pale at just the suggestion. “No, thank you. I’m not very hungry.”

“All right,” Padmé said suspiciously. “Have a good night, Obi-Wan. Sleep well.”

“You too, Padmé. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

“There is no need to thank me. Naboo owes you a great debt for your actions here all those years ago. And you are my friend. Only my friends are allowed to stay here,” she grinned.

“It’s good to have friends, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, though his tone was more subdued. “Goodnight, Padmé.”

The door clicked softly behind him and Padmé was left alone in the darkened hallway.

***

The Jedi were not the only ones who got bad feelings about things.

Padmé fretted around in her kitchen, unable to go to sleep with the feeling that something was wrong with Obi-Wan. She scrubbed at her counter, the marble already spotless and shining, and tried to think of an excuse she could use to check on him.

Her eyes landed on a red tea kettle and she smiled.

Padmé had her plan.

***

Padmé knocked on the guest suite door and waited for a response. If he didn’t answer, she would simply leave the steaming mug on the nightstand and leave. A simple, innocent plan.

She knocked again and when no response came, she opened the door just a crack.

“Obi-Wan?” Padmé questioned softly as she peeked inside the darkened room “I brought you some tea.”

A quiet murmur is the only response she received. Padmé stepped into the room and turned on a lamp.

“Obi-Wan?”

He shifted, but his eyes remained closed. Discomfort was evident in the set of his jaw, even in sleep.

Setting the mug down, she approached his bed and took note of the sweat dampening his hair and the flush high on his cheekbones. Sighing, she sat down beside him and pushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead. His skin radiated heat.

There was something wrong with him. Her instincts had been right after all.

Obi-Wan tossed his head to the side and let out a soft whimper. A soft, but desperate sound that sent alarm bells ringing in Padmé’s head. “Obi-Wan, wake up.”

His eyes remained firmly shut and the quiet, pained whimpers continued.

“Obi-Wan, please, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.”

Padmé grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him until fever-bright eyes stared into her own.

“Your Highness,” Obi-Wan said. “You have to get out of here, it’s not safe. My Master and I…” Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “My Master and I…”

Padmé’s heart sunk. “Obi-Wan, you’re sick. You’re in the Lake House. Everything is alright, we’re both safe.”

“Your Highness?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. It’s all right. I’ll be right back. I need to get you some medicine. Just wait here.”

“It’s not safe.”

“Yes, it is. Just wait here.”

Padme rushed back down to the kitchen and dug around for some fever reducers. Finding what she was looking for, she raced back up the stairs and returned to the guest suite.

“Here, take these,” Padmé said, handing Obi-Wan the pills and the mug of tea. “You’ll feel better.”

“Padmé?” Obi-Wan asked, confusion still lacing his tired voice.

“Yes, it’s me, Obi-Wan. Just take these.”

Obediently, Obi-Wan swallowed the pills. Padmé took the mug from his hands before he could spill the hot tea on himself and she set it to the side once again.

“There you go,” Padmé said soothingly. “Lay back down. That’s it.”

“Not safe,” Obi-Wan insisted, though his resolve was weakening.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll protect you.”

Her words seemed to soothe Obi-Wan. The fear that left him rigid and tightly coiled seemed to drain from his body as his muscles and jawline relaxed. It was not long before Padmé’s order to sleep was heeded.

True to her word, Padmé watched over him until dawn broke.

***

The morning brought recovery. Obi-Wan’s skin lacked the pallor of the ill and his eyes were clear of the feverish glaze.

“Goodmorning, Master Kenobi,” Padmé said when his gaze landed on her.

He blinked at her in confusion. “Senator Amidala. Why are you...?”

“You’re sick. Or you were. Your fever broke this morning, but I think you should still take it easy.”

“When did you… I thought I was alone?”

“Forgive me for intruding on your privacy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling you were unwell.”

“Did you stay here the whole night?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Senator. I did not mean for you to…”

“Save your apologies Obi-Wan. I am happy to help. I just wish you had told me you were ill sooner,” she said. Her lips tightened in a thin, disapproving line. “I knew something wasn’t right.”

“You sound like Anakin with all of his unhelpful I told you so’s.”

“Still, you should have told me you were sick,” Padmé protested.

“I did not think it was that bad,” Obi-Wan said. After a pause, he added, “until I woke up with you sitting right there.”

“It never starts bad, does it?”

“No, it never does.”

“Obi-Wan?” Padmé asked, her tone changing from teasing to concerned.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan asked, though apprehension filled his answer.

“In your sleep, you… you were having a nightmare. You called me your Highness. You brought up your Master.” If she did not know him, Padmé might not have seen the way his eyes darkened or the subtle clench of his jaw. “Do you want to talk about it?” she added on.

“Not particularly.” The sheets began to twist in his hand.

“It might be good for you, you know? To talk about it with someone who isn’t… well… Anakin.”

“I do have other friends, I’ll have you know,” Obi-Wan said indignantly.

“And do you talk to them?”

The way he looks down at his hands is answer enough. “It’s just… being on this planet, and what you said about Naboo owing me a debt. I guess it just stirred up some memories that I think were compounded by the haze of fever.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It is not your fault.”

Silence rests between them and Padmé searches for a way to fill the void.

“I do have a question for you,” Padmé finally said, lightening her tone once more.

“I’ll do my best to answer it.”

“Do you think that there is a possibility the ship malfunctioned due to… I don’t know… user error?”

“No, not at all.”

“Really? You don’t think that perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you were feeling so under the weather that you failed to notice the hyperdrive overheating? A simple fix if found early?”

“It’s not that simple,” Obi-Wan said defensively. “Anakin just makes it look simple.”

“Uh-huh,” Padme said. “Of course.”

As if the act of speaking his name summoned him, Anakin strode through the door.

“Hello Anakin,” Obi-Wan greeted, sitting up on his elbows.

“Master. Senator,” Anakin said, bowing slightly. “I was looking for you downstairs. I didn’t think you would be here. In the same bedroom. Together.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“I was sick, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, sparing Padmé the burden of explanation. “The good senator over here sacrificed her night of rest to ensure my health, though it was unnecessary and I would have been just fine.”

“He was delirious!” Pamdé said in defense.

The rigid line of Anakin’s shoulders softened. “Are you all right, Master?”

“Perfectly fine and quite ready to go home.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. You seem a little pale. Maybe we should wait a day before travelling back to Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan scoffed.

“Yes, you are still a little pale,” Padmé said, only looking at Anakin and his conspiratorial grin. “One more day of rest wouldn’t hurt.”

Obi-Wan sighed and flopped back down on the bed. “I’m not winning this one, am I?”

“We care about your health, Master,” Anakin said innocently.

“Mmhmm I’m quite sure that’s what it is. Very well. But we are returning tomorrow.”

“Of course, Master,” Anakin said. “Now get some more rest.”

Obi-Wan made a face at them both as Padmé practically pushed Anakin into the hallway. The door closed softly behind them, but it sounded louder in the quiet of the hall. Anakin grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs. When they made it into the kitchen they erupted into a fit of giggles.

“Well Senator,” Anakin said, grabbing her hips and swaying her around the kitchen. “It looks like I have a little time to pay my ransom.”

“Good,” Padmé said. “I was concerned you weren’t going to pay up.”

“I’m true to my word, my love,” Anakin said, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Padmé smiled. She let Anakin twirl her around the kitchen, knowing full well that it would not, could not, last. She soaked up every fleeting moment with him and refused to think about the inevitable tomorrow where they would once again be parted.

It didn’t matter. This moment was enough.

[pridewon]

@pontevoix​​​​ said:  🤍 + belatedly running by with our ships or any one of them sdfuhg chase your dreams cha (all about that ship) (yamaguchi & tsukishima edition) (in dialogue with this post)

Who cooks meals for the other? their advantage when it comes to food is that neither of them is a very big eater - for their own reasons each, but at the end of the day, it makes them pretty compatible. when yamaguchi lived alone for the first time, he had this weird phase where he promised himself to learn how to cook properly, and to try out plenty of recipes and everything - the resolution didn’t last, but his cooking has become pretty decent and he enjoys preparing dinners and lunch boxes, when he has the brain space for it. he also bakes on occasions - someone’s got to make that strawberry shortcake, right? - and every time the kitchen turns into pure chaos (the result, somehow, is always worth it). 

Who spams the other with memes? 100% agree with your assessment, nothing to add here vbjfdvb. his favourite memes always tend to border on sarcasm and existential turmoil with the occasional political comment. he was pretty big on vines compilations at one point and sent tsukishima countless of those. 

Who likes to tidy around the house? yamaguchi is glad tsukishima schedules in time for chores during the week, because... he’s the opposite: weekends is when he feels he can unplug his mind from work and focus on house management; so when tsukishima doesn’t tidy up, yamaguchi does. yamaguchi absolutely has a habit of shedding/leaving stuff a bit everywhere, mostly because he’ll start doing one thing (like reading a book), think of another thing (watering the plants), think he’ll pick the book up later... and doesn’t really get to it. he’s just a little forgetful - and compensates by going the extra mile before tsukishima complains. fortunately for both of them, he very much dislikes dirt and dust, so while he may have a messy/untidy streak, he always wipes surfaces after using them and leaves the bathroom/kitchen/other places spotless. 

Who likes to play pranks on the other? yamaguchi “pranks” tsukishima by telling him he signed them up for a social occasion, and they stare at each other until yamaguchi laughs and tsukishima never bought the prank because they definitely know better, and anyone who ever witnesses their “pranks” exchange is extremely puzzled because... they literally just see yamaguchi say “oh yeah, that party on friday for [distant colleague’s name]’s promotion? we’re definitely going, aren’t we tsukki?” and them looking at each other and a brief knowing smile - and literally no further comment. literally the definition of a private joke. they’re the only ones who are in on it, and even if they explained it? no one else would find it funny. 

Who asked the other to move in with them? you said it first - yamaguchi started leaving some of his stuff at tsukishima’s, was granted a drawer, understood what tsukishima meant, and six months later his name was added to the lease. reason why yamaguchi spent time over (and vice versa) is 1. it was a natural step in their evolving dynamic, especially if they articulated their relationship sometime before the drawer incident; and 2. yamaguchi doesn’t fare very well with solitude. he didn’t have roommates, which he initially thought he would really enjoy, but he quickly realised he prefers to have someone around. not that they need to spend all their time together or that he doesn’t need his own privacy and alone time, he just feels better knowing there is someone else in the apartment. as far as he’s concerned, they can spend a whole day reading on opposite sides of the living room in complete silence, and he would be happy with it - it’s the absence of a presence that he didn’t like much when he was living alone... hence frequent stays/invitations to stay over. 

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? “pretends to apologise” bfvhdfbv so true, but it’s for their sAFETY so he doesn’t crash the car into a tree so hopefully he’s forgiven. yamaguchi may have to dictate driving music when he’s behind the wheel so he can stay focused, but at home, musical control is relinquished to tsukishima - yamaguchi sometimes walks around with his headset on because he’s learning a new drums piece and he doesn’t want to both tsukishima with it. he doesn’t have a drumkit because those take up too much space, so he sometimes goes to play in a studio - also he knows even electric drumkits are not as silent as they’re advertised to be and he doesn’t want to be a nuisance bvjhb. 

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? his sides and neck and yamaguchi’s weak points when it comes to tickling, and he knows tsukishima knows it, and he knows tsukishima keeps it in mind when he pokes his ribs. the betrayal is real. he still hasn’t mentally recovered from tsukishima yeeting himself out of bed during the knee tickle incident. 

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? they have done the whole laughing at scary games & stupid decisions since they were teenagers and went against akiteru’s interdiction to watch horror films because they weren’t old enough for them. the only time yamaguchi didn’t immediately laugh was when they watched scream and got to the scene where ghostface stands behind ryan while he’s lounging on the sofa watching a horror film and telling the protagonist “the killer’s behind you, dumbass”, while having a killer behind him. yamaguchi turned around on the sofa and squinted just to make sure a serial killer wasn’t about to attack them - and returned to the film. 

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? yamaguchi is very well aware his degree makes him the “tech guy” by default - and tsukishima is the only one to get a free pass when it comes to fixing things because let’s be real it’s tiring when everyone asks you “hey i think this is broken can u fix it”. 90% of the time the fix is “dod you try turning it off and on again?” - tsukishima is the only one who is spared the exasperation (even if yamaguchi does joke “did you try restarting it”, especially since this one time when tsukishima insisted it would do anything... and yamaguchi proved him wrong). 

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? frisky texts in public really are more of a distraction/joke when they’re bored/would rather be home that’s true, just another example of their weird sense of humour that no one gets except them. yamaguchi also prefers privacy for this kind of exchange; although pda is fine, in reasonable fashion. 

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? Not only does yamaguchi wake up later than tsukishima, yamaguchi is also no stranger to falling back asleep if not prompted/encouraged to get up in addition to waking up. tsukishima realised this the day he woke up yamaguchi, went back to the kitchen, came back to check on him because eggs were getting cold, and yamaguchi was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his pillow still in his arms - sleeping. poke in the ribs is an appropriate waking method when this happens.

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? yea of course he’s not sorry my lil menace <3

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? yamaguchi is very sneaky when he wants to be - on top of stealing tsukishima’s wallet to make sure he couldn’t pay, he has also developed strategies like pretending he’s going to the bathroom, but really he’s going to the bar to get the check. tsukishima, somehow, always catches on too late when he does it. sorry tsukki? no, still not :))

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? yamaguchi has woken up because of tsukishima’s snoring before, but has gotten used to it pretty quickly and doesn’t mind - like you said, it’s expected when sharing a bed with someone. he is much more concerned about 1. his drooling (he thinks it’s ridiculous and embarrassing) and 2. his moving/grabbing at things when he’s asleep and doesn’t realise it. he does have a tendency to hold onto and hug the nearest object - usually a pillow, but of course when sharing a bed with someone... it embarrasses him even more than the drooling  (the ‘sorry tsukki’ are genuine when he realises) and he really tries to fall asleep facing the other way, or on his stomach... to no avail. when it happens, tsukishima is faced with two options: accepting his fate as a koala pole (wouldn’t recommend in the summer without a good ac), or shoving a pillow in yamaguchi’s arms while he’s asleep (yamaguchi doesn’t mind if it means poor tsukishima can sLEEP and not migrate to the sofa). 

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? tsukishima claims he let yamaguchi win - and yamaguchi rolls his eyes and decides that’s enough of a commentary. yamaguchi likes to play single player games, and when he’s stuck on a level/puzzle, always calls tsukishima to the rescue. of course he could look up the solution online, but... he knows tsukishima likes to show off a little bit. who is he to deny him that.

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? MORE STARING NVKVNF and to this i will add that yamaguchi doesn’t fare well while half-asleep and groggily trying to find his way to the bathroom at night. tsukishima has told him that if he hadn’t left his karasuno neighbourhood association sports bag on the floor, like he told him, he would not have tripped over it at 3am. yamaguchi was forced to admit he maybe had a point.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Dating Seo Changbin

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long!!! i hope you like it <3 oof its been a while since I've done this style so here we go

Requested: @mrsunshine999

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoee @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @multi-net​

Warnings: cussing, changbin being best boi, 

First of all....reader you are one lucky bitch.

Dating THE changbin

damn

Changbin is definitely one of the more domestic boys

He thriiiives with being a cuddly soft boyfriend

You probably met his parents on like your fourth date

But it was like a surprise thing 

He was like “Stop by my place because I’ve got to take care of somethings before we go out”

and you were like sure whatever so you get there like twenty minutes early and knock on the door

changbin opens and says you can wait in the living room while he is grabbing some things

first of all you notice his house is super fuckin nice

you’re like “mental note to ask who his decorated is” 

so he goes off and you walk in the living room and there are his parents just looking at you with kind expectant smiles

and you’re like “ummmm.........hello........changbin’s parents....”

changbin is like walking in and out of the room completely unaware that you are lowkey shitting your pants because omg his parents are right there and you were not prepared for this you were just promised food

its then you realize this is his parents house and he freaking tricked you into meeting them

by the time he sits down next to you on the couch you’ve practically sweated through your nice outfit and answered a billion questions

“I told you, I pick good ones mom- OW!” 

you pinched him really hard and made a nervous look towards the door. 

He laugh and got the message

the two of you said goodbye and you proceeded to whack him very hard the second the door closed behind you

loves to spoil you

anytime you're mad at him the next day you find a very expensive flower arrangement as well as a nice piece of jewelry on your desk or doorstep

he never lets you pay for anything

in fact the most common argument you have is about him spending too much money on you or not letting you pay

one time after a really big fight he secretly paid your rent for the month (which led to you yelling at him again)

“CHANGBIN YOU PAID FOR MY RENT?!”

“I thought I was doing a nice thing!”

“Yes it was very nice but I want to do things for myself!”

“But you’re so....baby....my baby....I wanna take care of you.”

“I AM NOT BABY!”

he thinks you look really cute when you’re mad so you never really end up getting anywhere with arguments like that

changbin is definitely a huge cuddler

likes being both little and big spoon

his favorite sleeping position is probably you sleeping on top of his chest so he can hug you like a teddy bear (you have replaced Munchlax haha)

probably takes you on the most aesthetic dates

he loves being your personal photographer

he can’t show you off on the skz insta so he probably has like a separate private account just to post really cute pictures of the you and him

changbin is a huge fan of couple clothes 

like any kind

his favorite is finding couple shoes like sneakers. 

he likes knowing that he could wear them onstage and bring a piece of you into the public view but its like his lil secret

changbin is like super no no about scandals so after a few months he probably announces the relationship before the press even think he is in one

changbin is like the pinterest boyfriend 

like he strives to be pinterest worthy

the boys give him so much shit about it but like lowkey he doesn’t care he just steals their coffee or something in revenge

he probably keeps like special products for you in his apartment

he always has the coffee or tea you like stocked in his kitchen

changbin is definitely the type to love hard and love fast so once this boy has you locked down in a relationship he just goes all in

you two probably move in together pretty quickly because this boy is just so anxious to be around you all the time

lowkey whiny once you move in 

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

“changbin you've said my name like 18 times what the hell do you want”

“i wanna hug.”

tries to use aegyo to get out of chores and housework

“I love dark my ass.” you say shoving a laundry basket in his arms and watching him pout 

late night gym dates at like two in the morning

the boys lowkey getting jealous of how much time he spends with you

Felix and Hyunjin basically live at your apartment

you don’t know how they got keys but somehow they are always there 

you’ll wake up one morning and felix will be randomly asleep on your couch for no reason

your dates are often crash by one of the boys but you honestly don’t mind because they are so much fun

changbin is actually the most caring and empathetic boyfriend

he always seems to know when you have a bad day or are just feeling bad about yourself

sometimes you don't even understand how he knows 

you’ll just be laying in bed on your phone after a really rough day and wanting to cry and changbin will just come up and give you the warmest gentlest bear hug 

he won’t say anything but he’ll just hold you until you want to talk or just cry it out

lets be honest changbin hugs would be the best tho

like he hugs with his whole being

in a relationship i feel like he is super affectionate so hugs are pretty common but he probably hugs differently for different circumstances

like he gives really gentle hugs when your sad and strokes your hair, kissing the top of your head

probably a big fan of quick side hugs when you're in public or with the boys

big cuddly hugs when you’re alone where he can rock you side to side or flop onto the couch with you

so ‘i love you’

again changbin falls fast and hard so he would for sure be the first one to fall in love

but he wants you to say it first because he knows sometimes he can move too quickly and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable

the first time you say it changbin is just so happy 

before you can even finish the sentence he’s already saying it back

“I love you-”

“I love you more.”

he never forgets an anniversary even if he is on tour

during one of their breaks he flew you out so you could celebrate together 

he loves traveling with you

even if its just a road trip or the two of you randomly decide to spend the weekend at a hotel that's thirty minutes from your house

changbin definitely knows what he wants in life so the second he decides you are the one for him he starts planning how he wants to spend his life with you

he loves having serious conversations with you about the future

changbin loves when the two of you invite all the boys over for dinner and it turns into a fancy dinner party and he cant help but picture you doing this five or six years from now and you have kids and are throwing dinner parties like this on the weekends

you too throw a HUGE Christmas party every year

like inviting lots of staff from the company and a bunch of family and friends 

so like one second you are talking to changbin’s sister and your mom then the next thing you know you are accidently bumping shoulders with fuckin BamBam from Got7 or Tzuyu from Twice and Jae is singing with Jisung in your living room

its like a huge fancy event that you and changbin throw at your place that you spend like a month planning for

everyone is dressed very nice and your house is spotless and flawlessly decorated with a brightly lit tree that you and changbin spent four hours decorating

by 9pm everyone is drunk on egg nog and opening presents from secret Santa 

changbin also never lets a Christmas go by without kissing you under the mistletoe 

the boys stay the night mostly because no one is sober enough to drag Jisung out of your house. 

So Christmas morning is always spent with the boys 

changbin always puts you first 

he is really considerate and always considers how his decisions will affect you (unless he’s trying to pay for something)

all in all changbin would just be the best boyfriend

congrat reader you landed an angel

Masterlist

[ohheyitsokay]

classic

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: none, tropes on tropes on tropes, weird descriptions of things

summary: good, old fashioned fan fiction chaos

notes: there’s no getting around it - everything I write with Jack is inevitably influenced and inspired by @scribbledghost s version of him, particularly her neighbor!whiskey. I tried not to, but I still feel I should give credit!

>>

It was the kind of razor your grandfather would have used – more of a knife than anything, because of course it was.

Of course this would be edge that your housemate used to slide along his jaw and chin and cheeks to make that perfect mustache before work in the mornings. He was the type to love old fashioned, traditional, dangerous things - it made sense. After all, that was why you were staying in the guestroom of his ranch home while your apartment was being renovated. Old fashioned courtesy between friends, of course.

Dangerous.

Jack had caught you watching him, impressed in spite of yourself as the sharp blade scraped over his neck, neatly slicing the hairs on his throat, and pushing your heart into yours. It was unnecessarily intense, dramatic, the touch of risk for the sake of vanity. It made you swallow, awed that he wasn’t covered in little cuts, and almost aroused at how casually he used something so akin to a weapon. And that alone made him smirk, cocky, as though he had been waiting for you to notice, hoping to impress you.

A few days later he’d coaxed you to him, settled in a chair with his legs spread wide with confidence as he handed you the tool, smug with confidence – almost a challenge. He had gotten wrecked at work – he actually had, and it was the perfect excuse to draw you close, make you bend to his will. Schoolyard tactics, really, but all of this was, and it was worth it to have your eyes on him alone, face a breath away from his.

It was about trust more than anything. Not that you would ever hurt him, but the power of being over him was heightened by the intimacy as you lathered the cream over his skin.

His deep eyes bore into you, not flickering to the blade as you tried to focus on your task. If he had asked you a different time, another day, you maybe could have refused, but somehow his wanting your steady hand felt heavy with implication.

Ignoring the quickening steps of your heart, your fingers grasped his chin, shaving away the stubble he’d let grow just for this. Each slice of smooth skin revealed left a thick line of froth and hairs on the blade, and you got to breathe as your turned away to wipe it off. You could feel his gaze, still, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Hovering over him while he was seated, touching his jaw, leaning close, and meeting those brown eyes would have been too much.

Your denial was as a solid as a wall with half sunk into the ground with cement – almost rooted in your fear of rejection.

It was a challenge to ignore the shots of adrenaline that filled you when he’d reach around you to grab something in the fridge, his chest against your back, hand on your hip. Already you had shoved down the butterflies in your stomach when he’d offered you a place to stay, carried your boxes, and called you sweetheart. You had spent far to long ignoring the way he hadn’t brought a single girl home since you’d been there to fold now and admit anything. Because if you did, there was a chance you would lose your friend forever, and that was out of the question.

You kept your eyes down to keep your hands steady.

For his part, Jack’s plan was only half working. He liked your attention, liked the way your breath hitched as you wiped him clean. But you were closer than you had ever been, patting in the aftershave and you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t open the door for him to push the tools and towels aside and kiss you. All he wanted was to grab hold of you and pull you into his lap and make you melt against him but there wasn’t a moment.

You’d been friends for a long time, been there for each other countless times and he had yearned for you almost as long. At first, he tried to deny it too, grabbing at random women and hating himself when he imagined they were you as he pulled them into his room.

Then he’d given that up, stopped pretending anyone could replace you, that anyone else occupied his dreams, anyone else could be as good a fit for him, and went after you full speed. It had honestly been innocent to invite you to stay, instinct instilled in him from his childhood. Still, he had begun to see the opportunities for the two of you to enjoy intimate domesticity right away, when he’d cooked you dinner and you’d talked at his table for hours, finally not worried about having to drive home. He ached for that – not ever really having to leave you, and he spent more nights than he’d like to admit thinking of knocking on your door.

Only… you were still in your denial phase. Not sleeping around just pretending it was normal to sink into his arms after a bad day, to let your friend play with your hair until you fell asleep, to watch his lips as you gently helped him shave.

It was too vulnerable, to high of a risk to go after you with the chance that you weren't ready. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away.

-

“What, really?” you said, genuinely surprised. When you’d accepted to stay, he’d promised you there would be no problems, but now you felt guilty.

His mama was coming to town, and would more than likely be staying with him.

“I’ll find somewhere else!”

Jack was already shaking his head at you, like you were missing the joke, but he looked… almost nervous? You couldn’t tell, it wasn’t something you saw on his face often.

“Actually, sweetheart, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he was asking, but it’s not like you could actually say no you him, when he shot that winning smile your way. It was like not petting a puppy – and you were the opposite of allergic to cowboy secret agents.

“You know Mama Daniels,” he said and you smiled, having spent many a summer helping her in her garden, and being thanked with dinners heavy with butter and love. “She’ll like you here, she’ll be over the damn moon.” And you conceded. It would be more than nice, to spend time with such a wonderful woman, an Jack had invested in a very comfortable couch. For a week you enjoyed a hopeful bliss, that she would help remind you Jack was just your friend.

The sun was shining through the windows, the winding almost singing a quiet, breathy song, and everything was as spotless as you could manage. Well worn quilts were clean, and you had set up a little station for yourself in the living room determined to make it your home for the week.

Then she came with a jacket that matched her slacks and shoes with little buckles and a paisley suitcase full of presents for her son, who she insisted wasn’t really grown. She hugged you and scolded you for being at work instead of coming to pick her up, and finally settled at the kitchen table, her intentions clear. You were to sit and catch up - Jack was already pulling the sweet tea you’d made from the fridge and a reused sewing tin filled with butter cookies appeared out of her purse.

Meekly, you sat, knowing if you didn’t eat the cookies in quantity, she would pout her whole visit. You could feel Jack settle at your side as she talked, warm and solid, a comfort, despite the heat of the day.

The cookies disintegrated on your tongue, melting with a burst of sweet before the bite was gone. They were full of love and maternal affection and things that you hated to spend money on and made all bad thoughts disappear. You were thankful your mouth was full of one when she mentioned, offhandedly, how plum delighted she was when she found out the two of you were finally dating. Abruptly, you remembered just how wrong your previous hope was.

The sweet lady had been hinting for you to marry her son since before he’d mastered his first lasso, and apparently, she was sure that moment was well on its way.

“And living together, no less!” she was beaming with pride, tradition apparently irrelevant as she chatted happily about it.

Turning to the man by your side, you found him choking, trying to breathe through the cookie he’d accidentally inhaled. There was a white ring around his irises as he stared at you, panicking and aptly confused. Sure your face matched his, you jerked your head at his mother, a silent argument ensuing.

Did you do this?

No!

What do we do?

We can’t break her heart!

It went unnoticed. You felt helpless, drinking your tea and trying not to have a small meltdown in front of a very misinformed lady who had brought you cookies.

He was your friend! And sure, you liked the weight of his arm around your shoulders or could get lost in the drawl of his voice but that was normal! It was normal to be so comfortable with him as the beginning, end, and highlight to each of your days.

Sounding weak even to yourself, a crack, solid and formidable, formed in the wall you created to protect yourself and the friendship you had built.

“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment,” you whispered, grabbing your phone as you grasped at air, hoping beyond logic that you could pretend it was an important call.

You didn’t exactly run away, but you walked very quickly outside, mourning the loss of your little guestroom, and the privacy it offered.

Jack would never, ever smack his mama but he did want to say some choice words. Nothing could have prepared him for the last two minutes of his life, first the embarrassment of the misunderstanding and then… the fear in your eyes.

He hated it, hated it so much more than he ever thought he could, hated that it was probably his fault it was there. And he hated that it shrouded the longing he had begun to see there, these past few weeks. Long strides carried him after you, hearing his own voice distantly saying words, explaining maybe, as he left the table.

There was a tree, trunk too wide to wrap your arms around, thicket of leaves creating bean-shaped shadow on the ground, by one corner of his home.

You were behind it, almost like a child, letting the bark press lines into your forehead. The dappled lighting did wonders for you – you looked the perfect picture of a storybook wanderer in distress.

Jack slowed, overwhelmed with the desire to encompass you in his arms, slay your dragons, and whisk you away. Now was not the time.

He kept his voice soft, reaching for you in place of his hands, trying hopelessly to find the root of your panic.

You were just as quiet, telling him it was fine, you would pretend, as long as you’d talk tonight, after she went to sleep. His heart was creating dramatic movie scenes where you would float into his room, declaring your love for him, before settling in his arms, but he shook them away, agreeing.

Smile over-bright, you touched his smooth cheek a moment too long, before pushing past him back towards the house.

He allowed the afterglow of his daydream to wash over him only a moment before he jogged go catch up with you.

-

The quilt on Jack’s bed had chickens on it, of all things. It was one of those that had clearly been homemade, years and years ago, taken care of, but worn at the edges with memories and use. One pillow had a dent for his head, the other was squashed into an unrecognizable shape

You didn’t know that it wasn’t like that, before. That his arms had only started searching for something to hold onto since you had been around.

All of his room was new to you – it made you feel strange, realizing that for weeks you’d been in his home but not this part of his space.

The afternoon his mother came, he’d been called into the field. You had never quite seen the look on his face as he reasoning fell on deaf ears – desperation and frustration like ants ruining honey on a picnic. The flannel across his back bunched as his shoulders had filled with tension before he stripped it off to change into his work clothes. Jack kissed his mothers cheek and spewed instructions for the both of you, some apologies spilling out and others kept just behind his eyes as he grasped your hand.

His final command was for your ears alone -  that you take his room, and you’d been too panicked to refuse. The last three days, the smell of him and the memorabilia  scattered around the space kept you company when his mother went to sleep and you slept in his bed for the first time, alone.

It was surprising how sentimental he was. His hooks had another cowboy hat on them, a little wider, brown, and considerably more worn. There was a stack of printed photos in a little box by his bed – it was open, and some of the photos had oil-worn fingerprints along the edges. You found ones of you, and your heart flipped inside your chest.

You should have realized it was impossible to deny yourself, your feelings, with him surrounding you like this. Each thing you learned, each reminder of him practically reached off of the walls, as if he were there, coaxing your heart into his hands. It felt silly, almost, that you even tried to ignore it - you had missed him the moment his hand left yours. Now you had all the time to process, surrounded by his neatly folded shirts and the line of his favorite boots.

The idealized illusion of your relationship had only lasted half a day of living with his mother. Her warm brown eyes were too much like her son’s – you couldn’t lie to them. It was good though, for her to hold your hand a listen to you talk as the birds gossiped outside the window and steam seeped out of the pie you helped her bake. Miraculously, she wasn’t disappointed with you, commending your honestly, and explaining that if she was patient until now, then she could certainly continue to do so.

The more you talked to her, the more you suspected that she was right, all along. She helped you dig up the walls, her kind determination the shovel you needed for those concrete roots.

You would work and talk and tuck yourself into his chicken-clad blanket at night and finally, finally let yourself think of him, allow yourself to be in love with him.  You didn’t know he had started actually living in his room again, when he’d started letting himself love you. That he thought of your smile when he’d found his old quilt. Still, the more you thought, the more you could admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too.

That was how Jack found you - absorbed in your thoughts - the whiskey in his hand as forgotten as the mission and the agent he’d played for the past seventy eight hours and twenty one minutes.

He watched through the half open door, words failing him as you sat up, startled and the way your eyes searched for injuries made him want to eat you alive. 

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the sight of you in his bed, even though he had told you to be there and three days to daydream about it. It was intensely intoxicating, having someone care for you so intimately. 

With his sheets sliding down around your waist, you looked as good as the pie on the counter, as if a single snapshot could encompass everything he wanted home to be.

You were wearing a shirt he’d given you, years ago, and he swallowed, hard.

“Are you up for that talk?” his voice was rough. It would have been nice, to relish in the feeling of you checking him over, attention on him as he unwound, but he couldn’t wait. This moment was three days overdue.

“I told your mom we aren’t dating,” you blurted and he smiled, having guessed as much. Smoothing the blanket, your hand patted the spot next to you, your legs crossing.

In that, Jack knew something had changed since he left you. The flickering fear had fled your eyes, and you seemed settled into your skin more than ever before.

He sat next to you, having played over how this talk would go a million times, and still not finding the right words. Confidence was easier to find when he was flirting, poking at you, but seemed foreign in the din lights of his bedroom. Instead he shifted trying to lean back with his arm along the headboard, hoping he didn’t seem like a teenager trying to buy himself time.

You began to talk, saving him, and all the things you’d processed with his mama tumbled out of you before you were realizing that you were confessing how much he truly meant you. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been strange how comfortable you felt, but in the moment, you were in awe.

Jack was as handsome as always, if a little roughed up, like he’d worn the same clothes a few days in a row. You wanted to run your fingers over the short, patchy beard he had going, and without a second thought, you did, feeling his cheeks move as he smiled crookedly and leaned into the touch.

There was only a moment of quiet, crickets outside, before he said, “I missed you, too.” And then, “Will you stay, sweetheart?”

When you whispered, “Where else would I go?” he kissed you.

It was late, and there were still words unsaid, questions to be answered, but you both let yourselves get lost, exploring each other. Long moments passed, letting all the pent up yearning overflow like cool water after a long, hot day. Then the next steps came out, whispered between kisses and as he moved over you, shucking the final walls between you, you found yourselves actually dating, and maybe even actually living together. 

Old fairy tales and historic romances played in the back of your mind, inserting their logic into your life like had never quite made sense before.

And you wondered if you had time in the morning, and his mama didn’t give you too much grief, if he would let you help him shave, and eat pie for breakfast. Because for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

<<

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[spookyboywhump]

Zander be nice to your fucking mother

CW: Hand whump, mentions of past whump, Zander is just having a bad day-

***

He’d been worked up all day. A nightmare had him waking up anxious and terrified, and that had quickly turned into anger. He’d been on edge all day but trying his best to hide it- not that he was very good at that. His moms had been giving him his space, he knew that, but that didn’t change the fact he just felt like they were avoiding him. He was dangerous when he got angry, after all.

Still, he tried to pretend nothing was wrong, and since he felt bad for making them worry he insisted he get the dishes after dinner that night. Besides, in a long line of desperate attempts to not cause problems, he’d told himself cleaning something every time he got pissed off was productive and helping. Well, the house was spotless aside from the new hole in his closet door.

He was still dwelling on the nightmare though. It was one of the more nonsensical ones, in fact he likely would’ve been over it by now but Nicholas being involved just made him angrier. Thinking about Nicholas at all made him angry, thinking about every time he put his hands on Wren or Cathal, thinking about what he did to him-

He shouldn’t have been holding a glass. He didn’t realize what he was doing until the glass broke, his hand holding the rag to clean it getting sliced up in the process, soapy water immediately stinging the wound.

“Fuck!” He yelled, jerking his bleeding hand out of the water. The glass hadn’t broken entirely, he was still holding the part that was mostly intact, and he should’ve just let it go but before he could think he’d yanked it out of the water and thrown it across the room as hard as he could. The kitchen sink and the counter were completely open to the dining room, the remainder of the glass ended up shattering on the table.

He stood there with his teeth gritted together, all tense and worked up from anger and frustration. His hand was bleeding a lot, blood running down his forearm and dripping onto the floor as he stared across the room, at the glass shards scattered onto the table. He didn’t realize his mom had come to see what he was yelling about until she spoke up.

“Zander- what the fuck did you do?!” She snapped, storming over to him and grabbing his arm to look at his hand, but he quickly jerked away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Alexander-“ Her tone had taken on that warning edge, like he was a misbehaving child, but he still cut her off.

“Just fucking leave me alone!” He pushed past her and rushed upstairs, ignoring even Georgia when she tried to stop him, he didn’t want to be around anybody when he was this worked up. He went into his room and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure, but he realized he probably needed to do something about his hand. He didn’t want to leave his room, he could hear his mom coming up the stairs and he knew he’d blow up if he tried to face her.

He snatched up a t-shirt from the basket sitting on his desk chair and wrapped it around his hand, hoping he could slow the bleeding. This hurt worse than a normal cut though, he was worried it may require more attention than he cared to give it at the moment. He sat down on the edge of his bed, he wanted to calm down but he couldn’t, his teeth were gritted together so hard his jaw was hurting and he was shaking but he couldn’t calm down, all the anger he’d been trying so hard to push down was coming out at once, and he still didn’t know what to do.

***

Putting pressure on the wound wasn’t helping. He was getting dizzy, but he was still too stubborn to leave his room, to admit he needed help. It wasn’t all stubbornness, he just didn’t want to face his mom after acting like that, yelling and throwing things just because he was angry. He wanted to apologize, he was just too scared to. He jumped when he heard a knock on his door, his heart sinking as he knew he couldn’t really keep avoiding this.

“Not now.” He said, his voice shaking as he tried to keep calm.

“Zander. Open the door.” It wasn’t his mom, and it wasn’t Georgia. Instead, it was Eli, and Zander felt sick to his stomach knowing his mom must’ve called him. He was so bad she had to call him to handle him. Bad dog. He took a moment to think it over before he finally sighed, getting up and crossing the room to open the door, though he nearly fell over, swaying on his feet. When he opened the door Eli looked concerned, Zander expected him to be angry, he knew he certainly deserved it, but instead he just seemed worried. Somehow that made him feel even worse. Despite that feeling, it wasn’t really enough to drastically change his demeanor.

“What do you want?” He asked, leaning on the door frame for balance. Elias looked him over quickly, taking in the angry but exhausted look on his face, the t-shirt wrapped around his hand, the way he clearly couldn’t hold himself up, and he just seemed exasperated.

“Your mom already told me what happened. Let me see your hand.” He said, and at first he refused, but Eli gave him a look. “Now.” He added, in a way a he rarely ever spoke to anyone, much less Zander.

“Yes sir.” He muttered sarcastically, but he finally unwrapped the shirt from around his hand, letting him look at it. It was still bleeding, and Eli made a face as he looked at the cut going down his finger and across his palm.

“Come on.” He said, grabbing his other arm. “You need to go to the hospital, that looks bad and you’re already pale and unsteady. Let’s go.” Zander didn’t have the strength to fight him on this, instead he followed him, gripping the railing of the staircase tightly as they made their way downstairs. Both his moms were waiting, frustration had long since given way to worry, and he hated when they looked at him like that, like the poor pitiful mutt that he was. He didn’t want to worry them, and the guilt was weighing heavily on him now, finally breaking through all his anger.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out. “I-I’m sorry, for this, f-for yelling. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about that now.” Georgia sighed. “You need to get your hand stitched up, then we can talk.”

“I’m sorry…” He said again, unable to stop himself.

“We know…” His mom said softly, “Let’s just get you fixed up, okay?” She said, and he nodded, glancing away as he was unable to look anyone in the eye.

Eli came with him for the trip to the hospital, and though they were all more relaxed now that he had calmed down, he just felt awful. He didn’t deserve to have them worry about him, to have them treat him so well after he snapped like that. He felt he didn’t even deserve proper treatment, in fact, all he could think of was how badly he wished to just lock himself back in his room, so nobody else would have to deal with him.