#yeah he’s not stupid but i could see him being so in love……

[dazed--xx]

SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Hyung Line)

Part 1 Maknae Line Masterlist

A/N: I put this out as like a little birthday present for myself lol but yeah, i hope you guys enjoy. a lot of you have requested this and have been waiting on the edge of your seat for this so here it is. i hope it lives up to you guys expectations.

Chan:

A series of rapid knocks slammed against your door; you roll your eyes from your position on the couch not moving a single inch to open the door. Turning up the volume on your t.v you hear your phone ring, seeing Chan’s contact name on your screen you snort to yourself. Another round of knock’s bang against your door. “Y/N, I know you’re home! Please just talk to me!” Chan pleads on the other side of the door. You shake your head to yourself, continuing to ignore him. You turn the volume up on your t.v. again drowning Chan out as you try to ignore the ache in your chest. The betrayal you felt beyond measure as you remember the way he laughed as he jeered at his friends about his win almost being guaranteed. How could he? You thought he loved you. You believed him every time he kissed you and held you close. The nights you spent wrapped in each other’s arms felt real, you couldn’t describe the pain you felt as he uttered those devastating words. It had been 4 days since you heard it, you couldn’t handle opening that door and seeing him after he took your heart and smashed it to a million pieces. You sniffle as you wipe a stray tear flowing down your cheek.

“No…Don’t cry over him…you’re not some weak heroine….” You tell yourself as the calls and knocks come to a stop. The sound of your door opening makes you jump in a panic, your eyes widen as you turn to see Chan entering your apartment. You shake your head as he slowly enters, his head hung low as he closes the door behind him. His eyes meet yours and you notice all the tension in him leave his body he reaches toward you, a desperate look on his face as he strides across the room toward you. “Babe--No.” you cut him off monotonously as you look away from him.

“Get out.” You demand.

A look of horror spreads across his features as he stares at you. A painfilled gasp is released from his throat “Y-You wont even let me explain?” His voice cracks as his eyes fill with tears. “There’s nothing to explain…. everything we had was based on a lie” You counter coldly. He shakes his head as he steps toward you, his heart cracking as you take a step back “N-No..you really misunderstood. Please…. please let me explain…l-let’s just sit, a-and talk. I promise its not what you think” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter…. —I asked you out before the bet was made” He cuts you off desperately. “I-Im an ass for making the bet but, I never asked you out because of a bet I promise you that.” He continues nervously. Your head whips toward him, your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he explains “The bet was about the length of our relationship. I swear. Im not saying I was right to make the bet, but the guys kept saying that we wouldn’t last three months. My schedule is hectic and unpredictable so they kept saying that you’d feel forgotten about and that we wouldn’t even be able to make three months. So, I just made the bet and yes, I was stupid, but I love you. You know that I love you and I would never do something so terrible. I made a mistake a huge mistake, but I promise you that I love you and I won’t let my mistake ruin what we have…” He states as his right hand caresses your cheek as his left encases your waist pulling you into his lean frame, you turn your face away from his as he leans in closer to you.

“How long did you give us then?”

“What?”

“How long did you bet we’d be together?”

Chan smirks at you flirtatiously as he leans in close to your face brushing his lips over yours “I tried to say for the rest of our lives, but Minho talked me down to a year” You blush as he presses his lips against yours softly. “I’m so sorry, I was an ass, and I was so wrong but please…. don’t break up with me, okay? I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I felt like I was losing you. I love you” He pouts as he pulls you into his chest his arms wrapping around you firmly. “You’re still on thin ice…. but I love you too” You scold as out look up at him, pecking his lips softly.

Minho:

You stared out the window watching Minho pace in front of your job for the nth time while he contemplated coming inside. You watch him as he lifts his phone from his side as he begins to type out a message before deciding not to and running his hand through his hair. Your heart ached for him as you noticed the distressed look on his face, but you were much too frustrated with him to have sympathy for him. With a heavy annoyed sigh, you make your way from behind the counter and stride toward your ex. Pushing the front door open you glare at him “At this point, this could be considered stalking….” You scold. Minho’s head perks up as his movement’s halts, the moment he notices you he rushes toward you; his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you against him his legs giving way as he holds onto your waist. His body trembles as you feel your shirt growing wet as loud desperate sobs erupt through his chest as he buries his face in your shirt. “Im sorry, don’t break up with me. Im so sorry” He pleads. You try to shove him off softly.

“No! Please! Im sorry! Im so sorry please”

“Lee Minho, get ahold of yourself.”

 He shakes his head, “No. ill beg and plead and do anything I have to so that you can forgive me, and we can be together. I’ll explain, you’ll be mad for a while but—but…” He stares up at you with a pleading pitiful look “…we can figure it out. We can talk about this; we can work this out. I can fix this; I’ll do anything to fix this s-so please don’t break up with me. Please at least give me a chance to fix this…. I need one chance” You stare at him in disbelief “Why so you can finish your year?” A look of heartbreak forms on his features. “I don’t care about that…Y/N…h-how could you say that? How could you ask me that?” His voice cracks, as more tears form in his eyes as he stares down at his lap. “Y-You must think I’m this disgusting person now…. Fuck!” he cries. “Minho, this is my job. This isn’t the place for this.”

“Where else could I do this? You refused to see me this past week. You won’t answer my calls—you don’t have time for this. Where did you suddenly pull all this free time out your ass? Move on Minho. I found out about your bet to date me” You cut him off harshly. He finally brings himself to his feet, his hands encasing your shoulders. “Does that matter? Like truly?” He asks “Why does it matter? We are together, we care about each other, it doesn’t change the things we’ve been through this year. So why does it matter how we started?”

“Because its all a lie!”

“I have never lied to you!”

“Our entire relationship is a lie!”

Minho freezes as he stares at you with a painful expression “Y-You don’t believe that I care about you? Y/N…. I—you said I was tolerable, and that this year was a breeze because of it” You cut him off. He winces at the mention of his message. “I-I said the wrong thing. T-the guys would know what I meant. I didn’t mean to send you that message, and when I realized I did…. Y/N I promise you I never wanted you to find out this way. I was going to tell you, in person and beg you to understand and forgive me. But my feelings for you are real. I love you and I care about you, and this is fucking breaking me right now. so please, j-just give me another chance to show you that you mean more than anything else in this world to me.” You stand there for a moment as you contemplate, you notice your boss staring at you with a disapproving look from inside. You give a sigh, “This really isn’t the time…. I get out at 8. We can do dinner or something and talk I guess” you state. Minho’s eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically pressing his lips to your cheek. “T-thank you…You wont regret this.”

Changbin:

“Do you not know how to read or something?” You growl as Changbin stood in your private studio. Changbin stared at you with a pout on his lips. “It’s been two weeks Y/N…” You shrug “Wish it had been longer” You state as you shove past him and sit at your desk. “How much longer are you going to punish me? I already apologized. I’ve been calling, texting you. What can I do to get you to talk to me again?” He whimpers as he stares at you sadly. “I don’t want to talk to you. Its that simple, Seo Sunbae-nim.” You state professionally. A look of horror and disbelief paint Changbin’s expression “Don’t—Don’t do that… don’t put distance between us like that.” He pleads. You shake your head “If you’re not here to discuss your next project I’d suggest you leave” You state as you focus on your computer.

“I-Im not leaving. Not until we talk about this.”

“Oomph, seems like you’re going to be moving in here. How fun….”

“Why are you being like this? Why can’t we just talk about this? I already said I’m sorry—yeah, right before you begged me to pretend, I don’t know about the bet so you could win.” You cut him off with a look of disgust on your face. Changbin freezes in his place as he stares at the ground as guilt fills his stomach. “That wasn’t the reason…. I know that I said I needed the money and that it would be doing me a favor but, I was panicking, and I just said whatever came to my mind that I thought would get you to stay with me.” He confesses nervously. “Well, that’s just stupid…” You state as you continue to stare at the computer pulling up a file for a new rookie group you’ve been working with. “If that’s all, can you leave? Im going to be having a session soon.” You state monotonously. Changbin’s eyes well up with tears as he turns your chair around, dropping to his knees he stares up at you with pleading eyes. “Please, please forgive me. I was wrong to make a bet to date you. I would never do anything that terrible again, I would never betray your trust again. I’m so sorry and I really regret making the bet, but I don’t regret dating you. The only good thing to come out of something this stupid is our relationship and how you make me feel. I will do anything to make this better, I can give you time, I can give you space so you can be mad at me all you need. If you want to curse at me in the middle of the night because of the pain I’ve caused you, I’ll answer the call every time. I’ll be your friend if that’s what you want for now, but I need to know that I will have a chance one day to fix this. I can do that; I will do that. I care about you, and yes, this relationship started without me truly feeling for you the way you did for me, but it is the same now. we love each other and I know I can fix this, please give me a chance to. Please, I can be better—I will be better for you. Im so sorry” He begs, a heartbroken expression painted on his features as tears stream down his face. His voice cracked as he spoke, causing the walls you placed around the section of your heart that was filled with Changbin to come crashing down. You stare at him feeling a pitiful guilt at the pain you caused to the man you love.

“B-Binnie…” You whisper naturally. His head perks up as he stares at you hopefully. His hand caresses your cheek. “You don’t understand how sorry I am” he whispers as he leans in slowly, and hesitant. “Sorry can’t fix this…:

“No, but I can’t force you to forgive me and just say yes to staying together when I hurt you. I need you to know how terrible I feel, and I want to turn back time, so I didn’t make the stupid bet.”

“We would have never been together if you didn’t...” You state, Changbin shakes his head in denial “No, we are meant to be together. Even if you don’t forgive me now…. I’ll wait for you because there’s no one else meant for me. Even if I didn’t make that stupid bet, we would have ended up together eventually. You’re meant for me, and I’m meant for you….”

Hyunjin:

You roll your eyes, unamused as you exit your apartment and see Hyunjin standing on your porch as you make your way to your classes. He smiles at you brightly “Hey Babe” choosing to ignore him you brush past him, a monotonous look on your face as you make your way to your car. You resist the urge to look back and see his reaction. HA! Take that ‘Male Lead’ You snort to yourself mentally. Unlocking your car your eyes widen when Hyunjin pulls open the passenger door and takes a seat before you could enter the car. “The audacity…” You whisper under your breath. With a sigh, you open the back door pulling out your bag and opting to walk to the university instead. Shrugging the bag over your shoulder you begin making your way down your driveway. “Y/N, Are you serious right now?” Hyunjin groans in annoyance as he exits the car closing the passenger door behind him before he walks around the car pressing the lock button before closing the door. You continue walking as he rushes from behind you taking a hold of your forearm and halting your movements. “Fuck, don’t do this to me….” He whimpers “Talk to me, look at me, something please…” His voice cracks. You shake your head as you try to pull your arm out of his grasp. His grip grows a little tighter. “I’ll explain. We can talk about this.” He pleads.

You continue staring forward and bite your lip, so you don’t respond. “You’re killing me here…you know that?” He whimpers. “I told you, its just better for you to leave well enough alone….” You state coldly. “And I told you that I’m not giving up on you” Hyunjin counters. You shake your head “I’d rather you did. I won’t be helping you win your bet.” A pained scoff erupts from his throat “Is that why you think I’m here? That stupid fucking bet?!” He growls angrily. You nod, knowing that the bet probably wasn’t the reason, but you allowed the pettiness you felt in the pit in your stomach take over. “You don’t even know what the fucking bet was about!” He shouts angrily.

“Excuse me?”

“You. Don’t. Even. Know. What. The. Bet. Was. About.” He grits. Your eyebrows furrow as anger boils in your stomach “Do I need to? I heard enough. I know you made some bet to date me and would get 500 dollars after a year” You argue. “No. The bet was I would confess to you and prove that I was actually serious about you within a year because I had a habit of developing feelings for any girl that treated me like a fucking person instead of Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Im not some disgusting prick that would date a girl I have no interest in for fucking pocket change Y/N. it’s not like I need 500 dollars, if you didn’t know Im kinda doing well in my career.” He snaps. “I made the bet to prove to myself and the guys that I was actually serious about you. Was it stupid? Yes, but I won’t let you just sit there and say that I was fucking playing around with you when you’re the first girl I want to be serious with in a very long time.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Words not coming to you as you replay his explanation over and over in your mind. It felt like an eternity before you said anything. “That’s a stupid ass bet if I’m being honest” You state with an annoyed pout. “Oh, you thought I was smart?” Hyunjin jokes as he leans into you pulling you into a back hug as he rests his chin on your shoulder “Can you please give me another chance? I wont ruin this again. I won’t do anything that stupid again.” He pleads softly, you sigh “Please just give me sometime to think about it?” Hyunjin groans “Please? Baby, this is torture…if you weren’t going to forgive me, you wouldn’t be letting me anywhere near you right now.”

“So, you should have your answer then….” You state sarcastically.

“But I’m not sure if you forgave me if you don’t say you do….” He pouts.

You shrug as you pull yourself out of his arms and make your way to your car. “I got a test and I’ll be late, so I have to go.” Hyunjin follows behind you with a kicked puppy expression as you unlock your car once again. “Will I see you after your classes?” He questions sadly. You pull open the driver’s door taking a seat and rolling down the window as the engine roars to life. You wave Hyunjin to lean into your window, he complies with a sad pout. You press your lips to his cheek as you whisper “Depends on your schedule…” His cheeks heat up turning a bright crimson as his hand caresses the cheek you kissed. You wink at him as you reverse out of the driveway.

Taglist: @corrodedthorn n @lovesunshinefelix @lailac13 @moonchildlv @neyangi @hello-stranger24 @tamlinsfiddle @allyrarara @yangbbokari

[cherrylovelycherry]

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your writing, I spent hours binge reading without even noticing! I also love how creative your "menu" is. I wanted to ask if you take requests? If so, could I request a Boothill x Fem reader souffle? It can be any kind of plot or without plot at all. I just really like your writing and would like to see one of Boothill. Thank you so much for your time -anon

.note. hihi anon! aww it's nice that you like my writing, thanks! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) this took me a while, uni is being hard on me. sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language. anyway, i'm kicking my feet as i write this. i have the hc that boothill is sweet and gentle when it comes to intimacy, the complete opposite of his appearance, so yeah. hope you like it! ദ്ദി (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)~✧

𓂅new order. "soufflé and a éclair au chocolat."

You know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboy!

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. nsfw, fluff, cunnilingus, blowjob, some praise kink, first time, mdni synopsis. you ended up fucking a cowboy full menu

You're were with Boothill this afternoon, as he was willing to give you lessons on horse riding after he realised how incredibly inexperienced you were.

You were lucky he taught you, though you assumed it would be his way of repaying the favors you did him, fixing and improving his robotic body countless times.

The countryside is just outside of the busy city, so, as somone who lived in the city, being with Boothill in the countryside was very different.

After an hour or two, you started to grow tired and Boothill noticed it. He offered for you to come to his house, or so you thought, since that was where he was staying for a while, instead of walking all the way back home in such a tired state. You nodded, exhuasted, just wanting to lay your head on a pillow.

As Boothill walks with you check your phone, and there's a message from your roommate asking where you were. You quickly text that you're staying at Boothill's for the night.

Another message appears, and when you open it, it says;

"You're staying with Boothill for the night?? OMG, you know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboyyy!"

You felt the heat rise to your face almost instantly as you read the message. Which caused curiosity in him, approaching where you were.

"Hey, you ok? You're turning red, darlin'."

As if trying to see what the message was about, you moved your head to the side. Which ended up being for the fun of it as you quickly put your phone away.

The evening sun was already peeking out, being chased by the darkness of the night.

With somewhat quick steps, it managed to set before you, curiosity etched across his features, Boothill reached out to touch your cheek. "Seriously, you look like a ripe tomato. Did somethin' happen?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his fingers slowly touched your cheek. You took a shaky breath as his hand continued to touch your face.

You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I'm fine, just tired. That's all," you said quietly, trying to sound convincing.

The feeling of his hand on your skin sent chills down your spine, reminding you of the message your roommate sent.

You let go of his grip, as you both continued walking.

Was it possible that…he was thinking the same thing?

You shook your head slightly at the thought.

"Just my stupid roommate making a dumb joke." You tried to laugh it off, but even you could hear how forced it sounded.

Boothill continued to watch you intently, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Darlin', I can tell when you're lyin'. You're makin' it kinda obvious," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Hah, right, whatever you say." You scratched your cheek with your hand, hurrying your pace.

He merely laughed lightly at your response.

You both walked towards where Boothill was staying, it was a somewhat remote house, but it was in the city.

The house was somewhat large, the owner of which was a grandmother, who Boothill had once saved. She was extremely sweet to let him stay there if he needed it.

As you arrived at the house, you noticed how the sky had darkened even more, the stars slowly appearing as the night settled in.

As you both reached the house, Boothill unlocked the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped back to let you walk in first.

With a muttered "thank you", you entered the house. It was cozy and comfortable, a warm place that seemed to radiate with a hint of nostalgia.

Boothill closed the door behind him and led you into the living room.

"Make yourself at home darlin' I'll go and let her know I've brought you with me," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

You took a seat on the couch in the living room, and as soon as your butt met the cushion, you felt your phone vibrate.

Another message… probably from your roommate.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and quickly unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sure enough, it was another message from your roommate, still riding the horse/cowboy joke.

This time, she sent a gif of a cowboy riding a horse, with the message; "Yee-haw! Ride that cowboy, babe! 😉"

You couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. And even some amusement at the gif she sent. Your roommate was way too invested in your supposed "crush" on Boothill.

You groaned inwardly Great. It was never going to end. Your roommate was going to make this into a running joke for months, maybe even until the end of time.

Your irritation was interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Boothill appeared a moment later, walking back into the living room. He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, still maintaining a respectable distance from you.

"She's just glad I'm finally bringin' someone here," he chuckled, referring to the house's owner.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes still fixed on your form. There was a small smile on his face.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at his words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she's had to deal with your antics for a while now," you quipped, trying to sound lighthearted.

Boothill let out a mocking gasp, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? Are you implyin' that I'm a troublesome guest? Me? A perfect gentleman?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman," you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He feigned an expression of innocence.

"I'll have you know, I am a model guest. I make sure to clean up after myself, respect the property, and always ask for permission before snackin' on somethin'."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to defend himself.

"Right, because asking for permission to raid the fridge is the epitome of good manners," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And let's not forget the time you accidentally broke a vase and tried to mend it with duct tape."

He fakely frowned a little.

"Hey, I still stand by that duct tape solution. It looked pretty darn good once I was done with it," he chuckled, a hint of guilt in his voice.

You shook your head, still amused.

"You're lucky the house's owner has a soft spot for you. Otherwise she wouldn't let you stay here any longer."

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"What can I say? I'm irresistibly charmin'."

He stretched lazily, his metal arms extending with a soft whir.

"But seriously, she knows I ain't cause no real trouble. And besides, I keep the spiders away for her," he added with a wink.

You snickered. "Ah, yes, the dutiful bodyguard against the eight-legged critters. She must be so thankful for your bravery."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You laugh now, but when you have a spider the size of your hand crawlin' up your leg, you'll be beggin' for my services," he teased.

"Please, like I'd ever let it come to that," you retorted. "I'd fight that spider off with a rolled-up newspaper if I had to."

He chuckled again. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second darlin'. You ain't afraid of much, are you?"

The lighthearted atmosphere was refreshing, and you found yourself enjoying the exchange.

"Heh, I guess not."

You put a lock of your hair behind your ear, while Boothill turned on the medium-sized television in the room. The fireplace made the cold outside not felt at all.

The soft glow of the television filled the room, casting shadows on the walls.

Boothill grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch.

"Anythin' ya want to watch?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a moment before answering.

"How about a cowboy movie?" you suggested, a teasing tone in your voice.

"Hah! A good one then."

As you glanced at Boothill, you noticed the way the light reflected in his eyes, their artificial luminescence dancing with the flicker of the screen.

"You hungry? I can whip somethin' up for ya in the kitchen," he offered, his voice still carrying a hint of humor.

You considered his offer.

"Nah, I'm alright," you replied, your attention half-focused on the TV.

The more time passed, the more interesting the movie became. You both let out one or another comment about this. Until you and him were silent.

He leaned back against the couch, his metal arm resting along the back. Despite his mechanical parts, he still managed to exude a sense of comfortable familiarity.

His gaze flicked away from the television, locking onto yours.

"You okay, darlin'? You're a little quieter than usual."

You were caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his perceptive question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered, a little too quickly. Lie, you were falling asleep.

The truth was, you were fighting the urge to yawn.

"I'm just a lil tired ," you added, trying to sound nonchalant. Another lie, your whole body hurt from the physical exercise you were doing earlier in the field with Boothill.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"Uh-huh, 'a little tired,' ya say," he said, clearly not buying your act.

He leaned forward a bit, studying your face.

"Your eyes are heavy, and you're yawnin' more than a kitten."

He thought for a second before placing a cushion from the couch, which they were sitting on, over his legs.

"Here." He said, patting the cushion a few times, so you could lay your head there.

"Are you calling me a tired kitten?" you protested, unable to stop a small yawn from escaping your lips as you spoke, proving his point.

Your eyes widened slightly as he patted the cushion on his lap, offering it to you like some kind of makeshift pillow.

Your heart skipped a beat, the situation feeling suddenly more intimate.

But your body yearned for rest, your tired muscles calling out for a moment of peace.

He smirked, clearly amused by your tired protest.

"I dunno, if the shoe fits…" he joked, his gaze still fixed on you.

As you hesitated, hesitating to accept the offer, your tired body won out over your embarrassment.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly leaned down, resting your head on the pillow of the cushion, now laying across his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt the firm but gentle support of his thighs beneath you.

He chuckled softly as he noticed your hesitation, but allowed you to lean down and rest your head on his lap.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmured as you settled into the makeshift pillow.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Boothill remained silent for a moment, observing your tired state.

"Comfy?" he asked finally, his voice a low rumble.

"Mhm." You let out an affirmation towards his words.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at your eyelids.

The sound of the movie in the background faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For a moment, there was a silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Instead, it felt soothing.

He watched you closely as you let your guard down, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

With each breath you took, your body seemed to relax further, almost melting into his lap.

Boothill's metal fingers gently traced the outline of your hair, almost on instinct, as if seeking to provide some kind of comfort.

A soft, almost silent chuckle passed his lips as he noticed your tired state.

You felt your body relax as tension drained from your muscles, the weight of the day's physicality finally catching up to you.

Boothill seemed content to remain silent, allowing you to rest in comfortable respite.

Your mind started to wander, thoughts blending together seamlessly. You felt strangely at peace in this position - head resting on his lap, his metal fingers brushing against your hair, the sounds of the movie like a distant hum.

You felt utterly at ease, your tired body finally getting the rest it desperately craved.

Boothill's presence was both comforting and grounding, his touch a constant reminder of his attentiveness towards you.

Your thoughts gradually faded into weary tiredness, your mind struggling to stay awake longer.

You found yourself drifting on the edge of sleep.

He continued idly running his metal fingers through your hair, a soothing rhythm that seemed almost designed to lull you deeper into relaxation.

As your breathing slowed, growing more rhythmic and steady, he could tell that you were moments away from drifting off to sleep.

His eyes never left your face, taking in your relaxed expression and the soft curves of your features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing you at peace, especially after a long day.

You felt his fingers running through your hair once more before you fell completely asleep.

Your mind slowly slipped away from consciousness, and the world around you faded into a drowsy haze.

You don't know how much time passed, but you slowly opened your eyes, keeping them half-lidded.

You weren't touching the couch and you felt like they were grabbing you.

Oh, you were being carried.

Keeping your eyes the same way, you looked up, watching as he was carrying you up the stairs.

You felt like in those princess stories in which the prince carefully carries the princess.

As he carried you up the stairs, his grip firm and gentle around you, he took note of your half-lidded eyes slowly fluttering open.

He chuckled softly as he caught your gaze, realizing you were half-awake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He continued up the stairs, navigating carefully to not accidentally hit your head or anything else.

"Go back to sleep, dear"

He was taking you to a spare room so that you could sleep more comfortably.

Even in your semi-asleep state, you heard the soft rumble of his voice, the sound soothing your tired mind.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you heard him call you "sleepyhead." It was a nickname you hadn't heard from him before.

He carried you gently upstairs, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the silence of the house. You kept your eyes half-open, still disoriented and groggy.

"Mmph…" you managed to mumble in response, your drowsy brain struggling to form coherent words.

He chuckled at your sleepy attempt at a response, finding your disoriented state endlessly endearing.

"Shhh," he whispered, his metal fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You're barely awake, darlin'. Just go back to sleep, we're almost in the guest room."

The soft hallway lights cast long shadows ahead of him, dancing softly against the walls as he continued on.

Finally reaching the spare room, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you like he was handling a delicate artifact.

As you were gently lowered onto the bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, your body automatically snuggled into their embrace.

A small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your tired muscles sink against the mattress.

The cool sheets felt soothing against your skin as you slowly settled into the bed, still in a half-asleep state.

You felt his touch once more as he carefully adjusted the blankets, ensuring you were tucked in properly.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing.

As you were laid on the soft mattress, the blankets wrapping around you like a cosy cocoon, you felt the exhaustion fully taking over again.

Your tired mind was too drowsy to think clearly, your eyelids feeling heavy once more.

You vaguely registered his movements around you as he seemed to be adjusting something near the bed.

"…Boothill?" you mumbled his name, your voice still thick with sleepiness.

He paused, looking down at you with a hint of surprise at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, darlin'?" he replied quietly, his voice a gentle rumble.

He finished adjusting the blanket, ensuring you were completely covered and tucked in.

He then leaned closer to the bed, his eyes studying your sleepy face for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You need somethin', or are you just makin' sure I'm still here?" he teased gently.

Your sleepy brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, the drowsiness making it difficult to string words together.

"Mmph… jus' makin' sure…" you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

You felt strangely vulnerable in this half-asleep state, the tiredness leaving you without the usual guard you had up.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustling of the blankets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

You could feel his presence close to the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.

Literally the idea of what you were going to try to say left you. So you frowned, keeping your eyes closed.

Until you managed to remember something, "The girl who is with you will be…very, veeery luckyy,"

He raised an eyebrow at your drowsy mumble, his grin widening slightly.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice soft and amused.

When you mentioned the hypothetical luck of his future girlfriend, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly. "You're still dreamin', darlin'."

He reached out, his metal fingertips lightly running through your hair once more, a soothing gesture.

He stood silently nearby, watching you as you fought against the fog of sleep.

As you mumbled something about the girl he might date, his expression softened even further. He couldn't help but find your sleepy ramblings both amusing and endearing.

You hummed with pleasure as you felt his metal fingertips gently run through your hair once more, the sensation sending a soothing wave through your tired body.

Your eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and yet some part of your tired mind stubbornly held on to consciousness.

"Mm…not dreamin'…jus' sayin'…" you protested, your words slurring together slightly.

Your mouth attempted to form more words, but fatigue weighed heavily on your tongue, making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Lucky…" you mumbled once more, the word sounding more like a sigh than anything else.

He chuckled softly beside you, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"…Darlin', you're not exactly makin' sense," he teased, his tone warm and affectionate.

He continued to run his mechanical fingers through your hair, the soothing motion seemed to melt away any tension still lingering in your body.

As you mumbled about luck and being lucky, he chuckled again, the sound low and gentle.

Your words came out alone, almost like a yawn that couldn't be stopped. "C'mere…" You said, as you looked at him, you opened your eyes a little this time.

His hand paused in your hair, caught off guard by your request.

He looked at you, your half-open eyes peering up at him through the haze of sleep.

A mix of surprise and amusement played across his face. "You want me to come closer?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to decipher your sleepy request, before moving closer to the bed.

“Mhm,” You blurted out, affirming his words.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your half-open eyes and the sleepy smile on your lips.

"You're a bossy little thing, even when you're half-asleep," he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

He leaned over slightly, his metal hand still resting on your hair, gently smoothing out the messy strands.

By the time he got close enough, your body acted on its own.

"Lucky.." You murmured as you grabbed his face with both hands and placed your lips on top of his, quickly but softly.

Caught off guard by your unexpected move, his eyes widened slightly when he felt the softness of your lips against his. For a moment, he froze, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

But it didn't take long for him to respond. His hand on your hair slid down to your cheek, the coolness of his metal fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

He returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted his cybernetic appearance.

After a few seconds, he pulled away slightly, "Darlin', you're gonna be the death of me…" he murmured

As you felt his response, his cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your tired mind was still in a sleepy haze, but the kiss seemed to awaken a different kind of energy within you. You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, your eyes still half-lidded.

“You’re a little too cheeky when you’re sleepy," he admonished, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're gonna give a cowboy a heart attack."

It was a nice way to put it since he physically had no heart.

His eyes tracing the curve of your smile on your lips. Your tiredness seemed to fuel a playful energy within you, making you even more endearing in his eyes.

He shifted his position slightly, his body now facing you fully, one knee on the bed. His metal hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he leaned in slightly.

"And here I am, trying to be all gentlemanly and let you get some sleep," he teased, his voice low and full of mock reproach.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the drowsy state making you even more cheeky than usual. Besides, despite being tired, your consciousness was more exact. You were leaving the state of drowsiness.

"Gentlemanly, huh?" you mumbled, your words still slightly slurred by sleepiness.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, leaning towards him as much as your tired body would allow. "That's cute," You commented, your other hand reaching out to touch his chest.

You chuckled softly, "Besides, whose fault is it for being so irresistibly kissable?" you retorted.

You liked to see how his face turned slightly red, being visible only by the night light that came through the window.

You were enjoying the unexpected turn of events, the boundaries between friendship and something else starting to blur.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, the compliment catching him off guard.

He watched intently as you leaned forward, your touch against his chest igniting a spark under his metal skin.

Thanks to you, who had been able to connect and 'create' new nerves that would be connected to his robotic parts, managing to have at least a slight sensation of touch in his body.

His eyes flicked down to your hand before returning to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite hide.

Your words had found their mark, and he couldn't deny the reaction they provoked. Despite his usual confidence, there was something about your sleepy flirtations that had him uncharacteristically flustered.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but a hint of a blush betrayed his reaction.

He leaned in closer, his body nearly hovering over yours as you leaned up on your elbow. His metal hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Your senses seemed hyper-aware in this exhausted state, and the feeling of his metal fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The way he loomed over you, his body hovering just above yours, made your heartbeat quicken. There was a sudden tension in the air, a subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship.

You looked up at him, your eyes no longer had that flash of tiredness.

He could see the change in your eyes, the drowsiness slowly giving way to a sharper focus. A silent understanding seemed to pass between you both; the tiredness had faded, replaced by a different kind of awareness.

He leaned in even closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed desire, studying your features as if seeing you in a new light.

The air thick with an unspoken tension. Your skin tingled where his metal fingers touched your neck, a mix of cool certainty and unexpected delicacy.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice lower than usual, hinting at the effect you were having on him.

His fingers continued their gentle dance along the back of your neck. He seemed to be wrestling with something, caught between his customary charm and the unfamiliar surge of vulnerability.

Your lips parted slightly, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

His eyes were searching yours, studying every detail as if trying to memorize each inch of your face. His gaze remained fixed on you, watching how your eyes responded to his closeness.

But, oh, he was holding back, there was an evident hunger within him.

A hunger he never thought he wanted, specifically from you.

He saw your reaction, the slight intake of breath, the way your lips parted slightly.

His mind was hazy with a million thoughts, all centered on you and how much he wanted to close the remaining space between you.

His metal fingers moved up from your neck, tracing a path along your jawline before gently brushing against your bottom lip.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched slightly at his touch, the feeling of his metal fingers on your lip setting your nerves alight.

His voice was soft but laced with a barely restrained intensity. He was struggling with his own desires, trying to hold back but also aching for more.

You hesitated for a moment, caught between wanting to give in to the budding intimacy and fearing the consequences.

Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for any hint of insecurity or doubt. But the desire in his eyes made it clear that this was not a whim or a passing fancy for him.

"But I don't want you to stop," You responded also quietly. Your eyes left his for a moment, looking down at his lips.

Your words were like music to his ears, banishing the last remnants of his hesitation.

His breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted to his lips, the silent desire in your gaze mirroring his own.

His hand shifted, moving to cradle your face, his thumb resting just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

And, with just a nod from you, he couldn't help it anymore.

Being careful not to hurt you, he somewhat carelessly brought his lips to yours, pressing them with need.

Your confirmation was all he needed.

The moment your heads met, there was an explosion of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist, drawing you closer to him. His body pressed against yours, the coolness of his metal chest contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

His tongue eagerly explored your lips, seeking access to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for more of you.

There was a certain urgency in his actions, a hunger you could practically taste in the way he held you, the way his tongue moved against yours.

As his tongue sought entry into your mouth, you didn't hesitate to respond in kind.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel more of him against you.

His hands roamed restlessly over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin through your clothes. He needed to feel every part of you, as if the physical contact could quench the hunger burning within him.

The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. His cool metal fingers gripped your waist, holding you tightly as he pressed you further into the mattress.

His tongue danced with yours, a silent battle for control, each movement charged with raw desire. There was a hint of something wild in his demeanor, the usually controlled cowboy succumbing to his most primal instincts.

He groaned softly into the kiss as your hands tangled in his hair, the feeling both pleasurable and arousing.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands explored your body, tracing the contour of your curves, the cool metal of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles along your sensitive skin.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your neck, his voice hoarse with desire.

A gasp escaped your lips as he moved from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in your core, his words and actions igniting a fire within you.

Your fingers gently tugged at his hair, a silent signal urging him on. A soft moan escaped from your throat as he bit down lightly on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You have… no idea," you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating along your sensitive skin.

Your gasps and slight moans only fueled his desire, the sound of your voice shivering with need causing a shiver to run down his system.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, as if mapping out a territory he now desperately wished to claim as his own.

He smirked slightly against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that were slowly moving down to your collarbone.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he retorted, his voice carrying a low, sultry tone.

His hands moved lower, resting on your hips, gently guiding your body against his.

His smirk against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of your desire growing with each passing moment.

His hands roaming over your body and his lips tracing a path down your collarbone added fuel to the flame.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as he continued his assault on your skin.

"Boothill…" you whispered, his name sounding like a prayer tumbling off your lips.

Your whispered plea, his name falling from your lips like a litany, sent a shock through his system.

He paused his ministrations for a moment, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your cheeks flushed, and your hair slightly disheveled. You looked utterly captivating in that moment, your desire for him written all over your face.

His hands left your body, this time heading to your shirt.

I was about to roll it up until his brain made him stop for a moment.

"Do you want…to do it?" He dared to ask you, seeking your consent. His eyes boring into yours gently.

You met his eyes, seeing the mixture of desire and restraint in his gaze.

Your breath still slightly ragged, you nodded slowly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."

As he pulled your shirt off, his hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, partially undressed before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

His words, a simple compliment carrying more weight than usual, caused your heart to skip a beat.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in every detail as if you were a masterpiece hanging in a gallery.

The way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

His eyes were fixed on you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Finding your bra very annoying.

The combination of his touch, his kisses, and his words made you feel like you were slowly unraveling.

His mouth trailing along your skin was driving you insane with need and desire.

His lips trailed down your neck and down your chest until they reached the barrier of your bra. He paused for a moment, his hands gently tracing the edge.

"Can I?" he asked quietly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric.

The way he was handling you, with a mixture of reverence and desire, made you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips returned to your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as he waited for your response.

As his fingertips traced the edge of your bra, your heart pounded in anticipation, your body aching for more of his touch.

His request, whispered in a soft, hoarse voice, set your nerves on fire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes,"

He didn't need further coaxing. His hands quickly unclasped your bra, freeing your chest from its confinement.

His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses down your newly bared skin. He seemed to savor every inch of you, as if unable to get enough.

The feeling of his lips on your bare skin was nothing short of maddening.

His hands, now free from the barrier of your bra, roamed freely over your torso, as if he were mapping a new territory.

His hands instinctively went to your breasts, massaging them slowly and gently, touching the tips of your breasts. Causing you to flinch at the coolness of his fingers.

Without further ado, his mouth moved to one of your breasts, his other hand touching the other.

He sucked and nibbled gently, drawing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth on your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his tongue flicked against one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, your fingers clenching tightly as he continued his ministrations.

You gasped, arching your back towards him, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if trying to memorize every contour.

His fingers traced circles over your hip bone, then moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

This time he didn't ask, he raised his head and looked at you, with those eyes full of pleading.

Oh, that look you never thought you'd see in him.

The look in his eyes was one you never thought you'd notice coming from him.

It was a silent plea, a silent "Let me take care of you."

Hearing your gasps and slight moans, he wondered why it had taken him so long to cross this line with you.

You could feel the desire growing inside you, a burning need for more contact, more of him.

You raised your hips, silently giving him permission to remove your pants, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Slowly, he slid your pants down along with underwear in one go, his hands skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your exposed body.

He ran his hands gently down your thighs.

Now you were completely naked in front of him, your body on display, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you in all your glory.

In his eyes you were the most perfect thing that could exist, a goddess, an angel come down from the heavens.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips against your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses. Then, he pressed light kisses on your legs, moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

Your body was aflame with desire, every touch of his sending your senses into overdrive.

Your legs opened slightly, inviting him closer, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His lips moved over your skin, his kisses growing more insistent as he made his way to the inner part of your thighs.

"Please," you managed to gasp out, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most.

He chuckled softly against your skin, enjoying the fact that he had you completely at his mercy.

His chuckling set your blood boiling, your body arching towards him in a silent plea.

He knew what you wanted, what you needed, and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Patience, darlin'," he drawled, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He was taking his time, teasing you, drawing out the pleasure, and driving you insane in the process.

He continued his assault on your inner thighs, leaving gentle bites and kisses, slowly moving closer to your center.

His hands were now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from bucking up against him in a plea for more contact.

Until after that little torture of his, his lips hovered over your aching center, kissing above your lips, softly and gently.

You were a wreck.

Your body ached for more contact, more of him, and he was purposely taking his time.

Instead, he began to trace small, feather light kisses around your aching core, his lips moving slowly but purposefully, avoiding the place you wanted them most.

You gasped again, barely managing to hold back a whine in protest.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, "Please, Boothill."

He chuckled against your skin again, enjoying the way your body responded to his every touch.

When he finally moved his lips to your center, his tongue lightly flicking against your sensitive bud, you gasped loudly, a shiver running down your spine.

His tongue started to explore your most sensitive parts, flicking and swirling gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the sensations he was creating.

His tongue's teasing touch against your center sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair again, pulling slightly as he continued to explore you. "So beautiful and sweet," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice adding to the sensations he was causing.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, driving you even further into frenzy.

Then, his fingers entered the equation, slowly slipping inside you while his mouth continued to work its magic.

Your body trembled, the combined sensations overwhelming your senses.

You were at his mercy, your body completely under his control, writhing and gasping under his expert ministrations.

His fingers moved inside you, curling and stroking, while his tongue continued to flick against your sensitive bud.

The sensations were quickly building toward a climax, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to hold back.

"Boothill.. I can't.. too much.." you managed to gasp out, your body arching off the bed.

He seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to elicit the most intense reactions from you.

You couldn't think straight, his touch sending you into a state of ecstasy that was almost overwhelming.

Your body was caught in a tempest of pleasure, every touch of his tongue and fingers driving you closer to the brink.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your breathing grow ragged.

It looked like he was licking and eating a candy.

Your fingers gripped in his hair, tugging slightly as the pleasure built within you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your voice a ragged gasp, "Please, I-"

Then, suddenly, he stopped, drawing back just as you were about to reach your climax.

You let out a gasp of frustration, your body aching for release.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh.

At the lack of his lips and tongue on your clitoris, you felt a slight breeze that made you shiver. Not to mention how you felt it pulsating.

His free hand gently massaged your hip, as if trying to reassure you.

Your body was taut like a bowstring, the sudden lack of stimulation leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He slid his fingers out of you, stretching them a little, watching as your juices covered them completely, almost spilling out.

He let out a light chuckle, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, drinking in your delicacy.

Your view, which was clouded with ecstasy, focusing on the scene of him sucking on his fingers, was completely provocative.

It was all too obvious that he was more than needy.

Your breathing grew ragged as you watched him suck on his fingers, your eyes wide.

The sight of him enjoying the taste of you was almost too much to bear.

"You taste so good, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could do this all night."

When his eyes met yours, that's when you realised.

You had been so focused on your release that you hadn't realised how much he wanted this.

His face flushed, his lips moist.

Oh, he looked so damn needy.

He looked completely undone, like he was restraining himself from taking you right there on the spot.

He was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

Your skin thrumed under his hot gaze, and you could see the way his body reacted to the sight of you sprawled out before him.

It was the cutest thing to see him like that.

You rose slightly from the bed, pushing his chest back now, almost to where you were lying before.

You knew it was now your turn to make him feel good. More than he was.

As you gently pushed him back, reversing your positions, he let out a low growl, but he didn't protest.

He leaned against the wall, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

He looked absolutely wrecked.

His hair disheveled from your hands, his face flushed, his body thruming with need.

All that for you.

You straddled his hips, sitting on top of him and relishing the position of power you suddenly found yourself in.

Your hands roamed over his chest and bare torso, feeling the firm metal muscles. You could feel the heat radiating off him. His systems were beginning to overheat.

You leaned down, peppering kisses along his neck and jawline, enjoying the way he responded to your touch.

He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing more of his neck to your touch, a low, guttural groan escaping from his throat as your lips and tongue traced a path along his sensitive skin.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed along his neck and jaw.

He let out a low moan when you nibbled on his earlobe.

He was coming to terms with the new sensation of being underneath you.

He was used to taking charge in many situations, but something about letting you take the lead seemed different.

He liked it.

He needed it.

His moans and groans were music to your ears, showing you how much he was enjoying your touches.

His breath was becoming ragged, and his hands held onto your hips tightly, as if anchoring himself.

"Darlin'," he gasped out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you.

Your hands began to wander lower, tracing the line of his abdomen and feeling the metal muscles twitch under your touch.

As your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you paused and looked up at him.

"Can I?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire.

He was more than willing to let you continue.

His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his body was taut with tension.

"Yes," he managed to say, his voice thick with need, "Please."

You tugged on the waistband of his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help you pull them down.

He was begging you, and he didn't care.

As you slid them down his legs, you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxers.

Oh, you forgot that could happen.

You remember that at his request, you made a modification to his robotic body.

Specifically a synthetic limb.

It was one of your best modifications as it was also connected to the nerves that you also gave him. Not to say that his blue blood would help bring it to life when he had to go into action.

You didn't really think you could test if it really worked.

Would you be the first to see if it worked properly? You didn't know.

You hadn't really thought much about it before. After all, it was just a standard modification that you had done. But now, as you saw the physical evidence of his arousal, you couldn't help but wonder if it would work as intended.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he groaned loudly, drawing your attention back to him.

You had started touching his length over his underwear without even realising it.

With just the touch of you, you were surprised to feel the slight warmth that came from it.

He inhaled sharply at the touch, his body tensing even more.

"Please," he repeated, his voice hoarse, "I need you. I need you so bad."

You smiled at their pleas, apparently it was a very good idea to amplify the sensitivity around the area.

He was already a mess, and you had barely touched him yet.

His gasps and moans filled the room, and his eyes were dark with desire.

You could see how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you.

He was begging you, pleading with you to touch him more.

You looked down at the noticeable bulge in his boxers and then back up at his face.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, "So needy."

He let out another gasp, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch him through the fabric.

After a while of appreciating the good view you had, you pulled down his underwear, revealing his length.

His breath hitched as you pulled his underwear down, exposing him to your view.

He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he didn't care.

"Oh god," you blurted out at the sight of his limb.

At first glance you could tell it was working properly.

You were kind of proud of it.

He shuddered at your words, the sensation of your eyes on him enough to make his body shiver.

He was so sensitive, so receptive to your every touch, and it was all thanks to your modifications.

You moved down towards his arousal, cupping it with your hands and releasing light kisses that went from base to tip.

He let out a guttural moan as you kissed him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Your touch was light and teasing, driving him wild with need.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so good," he gasped out, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch and tease him.

He was putty in your hands, completely at your mercy.

He had never felt this way before, completely surrendered to another person.

And he loved every second of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze full of desire and need.

Without waiting too long, you licked his tip, without taking your eyes off his face.

You were beginning to like the way he was moving beneath you.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your tongue on his tip, his body arching slightly off the bed.

He couldn't believe the feelings you were invoking in him.

He felt like he was on fire.

He needed more your mouth, more of your touch, more of you.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in your hair, trying to hold himself.

To that, you smiled.

And, without further delay, you shoved as much of his length as you could into your mouth.

His entire body trembled as you took him into your mouth.

He could barely believe how good it felt, how good you felt.

"Oh god," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening.

He was completely lost in the sensations you were giving him, unable to think clearly.

He felt like he was on the brink of explosion, barely holding on.

Your mouth felt like heaven against him.

You continued, lowering and raising your head, while also moving your hands up and down his length.

You looked up at him from time to time, just to watch him come completely undone.

His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open and panting.

His breathing was ragged, and he was making little gasps and moans that sounded like a mixture of your name and incoherent praise.

He was a mess, and it was all your doing.

He was completely under your control, and he loved every second of it.

His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and he was clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His body was trembling, his systems threatening to overheat.

"I'm close," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening even more.

He was teetering on the edge, completely at your mercy.

"Please," he panted, "Please don't stop."

You loved the way he was begging you, the way he was completely at your mercy.

You didn't stop, if anything you increased the pace, determined to push him over the edge.

His grip on you grew tighter as he got closer and closer to the brink.

"Oh, swetheart," he groaned, his voice thick with need, "I can't- I'm gonna-"

And, before I reached my limit, your movements stopped, ceasing to suck his length.

You laughed lightly, catching your breath for a moment as you watched him frown in frustration.

He stared at you, his body still shaking with need, his breathing ragged.

He looked completely wrecked, and he was not happy that you had stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" he gasped out, his voice full of frustration and need.

He was so close, so damn close.

He needed you.

But you just smiled at him, enjoying the way he was squirming beneath you.

You smiled as you stood up a little, stretching your back.

"Patience, sweetheart." You somewhat mockingly repeated his words he gave you moments before.

He groaned in frustration, his body still thrumming and begging for release.

He wanted you, he needed you desperately.

How could you be so cruel?

He watched as you stood there in front of him, your smirk making him even more frustrated.

"You're a tease," he grumbled, his voice rough with need.

You positioned yourself on his lap, without sitting down.

With one of your hands you cupped his cheek, as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You were a good boy."

His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, despite his frustration.

Your words made him shiver, the praise stirring something in him.

"I was," he murmured, his voice slightly pouty.

He was still needy, still on edge, but he loved the way you were handling him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, as he nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Can I have my reward now?" he murmured against your skin.

"Heh, of course you do." You said, as with one of your free hands you grabbed his length, positioning the tip at your entrance.

He gasped at the feel of your hand on him, and he held onto you tighter.

He was so sensitive, every touch sending sparks through his senses.

"You're so perfect…," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

As he felt you position him at your entrance, he felt a shiver of anticipation. He needed you, he needed to be inside you.

He was on the brink of losing his mind from desire and need.

"Please," he pleaded, "Please don't make me wait any longer."

You smiled, as you slowly tried to make his length spill inside you.

Which in itself was difficult and painful for you, as this was your first time.

He could feel how tight you were, and he felt a pang of desire mixed with guilt.

As you tried to take him in, he noticed your slight discomfort, and he immediately stopped you.

He looked up at you, concern in his gaze, and he gently lifted you off him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're hurtin'," he asked, his voice filled with worry.

He was still needy and desperate, but he didn't want to hurt you.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, as he watched you intently.

You tried to hide your discomfort, but he saw right through it.

His concern and tenderness made you feel warm all over.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain you were feeling.

"I just need a moment to adjust," you added, a slight tremble in your voice.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for any signs of discomfort.

He gently caressed your leg, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

"We can do it slowly, without pressure, my dear" he said, his voice gentle.

Your body relaxed at his words, grateful for his understanding and patience. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He took his time, gently guiding himself inside you once again, with great care.

He was still sensitive, craving your touch, but his main priority was ensuring that you were comfortable.

He slowly pushed himself in, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

He could see the mixture of pain and pleasure on your face, the way you chewed your lips, trying to hide your discomfort.

He continued to move slowly and gently, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. You took deep breaths, trying to relax and get used to the feeling.

It was slow, and it hurt, but having him be attentive and considerate, made you feel safe.

As he gently slid further in, the pain began to subside, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. He stopped once he was fully inside you, pausing for a moment.

He leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your face, trying to soothe you.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender and worried, his gaze fixed on you.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave him a small nod to let him know it was ok to continue.

His gentle and patient manner was making your heart flutter, and the way he watched you with such care made you feel even more connected to him.

"Y'know, sweetheart? This is my first time too." He said, still not moving.

He tucked one of your hairs behind your ear. As he placed several kisses on your cheeks in an affectionate way.

You blinked in surprise at his words, not expecting that revelation.

You really thought he would have done this many times by now because of the way he behaved, you were wrong apparently.

The realization that this was his first time too, and that he was just as nervous and uncertain, added a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, and gave him a gentle smile.

"I didn't know." you said, your voice soft, "You're being so kind and patient with me."

Then you reached up, running a hand through his hair, feeling its texture and smoothness between your fingers.

He nuzzled into your touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He felt a little vulnerable admitting that it was his first time too, worried you might think less of him. But the way you smiled at him, the warm touch of your hand on his cheek, made any anxiety melt away.

He leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. It was soothing and grounding, helping to steady his racing thoughts and nerves.

He gently began to move again, slowly and carefully, still watchful of your reaction.

He watched as you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna make sure you're enjoying this just as much as I am." He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You shivered as he began to move again, the gentle friction sending small tremors through your body.

The way he was moving inside you was still a bit uncomfortable, but the pain was beginning to fade and be replaced by a different kind of sensation.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensations you were feeling. He was being so considerate, taking his time and making sure you were comfortable.

His words made you smile, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

"I am enjoying it," you replied, "more than I ever imagined it could be."

Your hand continued to run through his hair, and you pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his.

His heart skipped a beat as you pulled him closer, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He was relieved and happy to hear that you were enjoying it. All he wanted was for you to feel good and safe with him.

He continued to move gently, trying to find a pace that was pleasurable for both of you.

He relished in the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he loved the way your body felt against his own.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could lose myself in you forever."

He leaned in, kissing your neck and collarbone. He opened his mouth to bite your neck, leaving a mark much more noticeable than the others he had left on your thighs.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp as he bit down.

You could feel his teeth sinking into your skin, and you knew it would leave a mark, a reminder of this moment.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck, silently encouraging him.

The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but you didn't mind. It felt possessive.

Claiming. You wanted him to claim you, to make sure that everyone knew that you were his.

You arched your back, pressing closer against him, encouraging him to continue.

"Please," you murmured, your voice low and wanton. "Don't stop."

He was sensitive, and the feel of you around him was almost overbearing.

He felt your body arch against his, your voice low and pleading, and it made him shiver with desire.

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you leaned into him and asked for more.

Hearing the words "Don't stop" spill from your lips was like music to his ears.

He continued his assault on your neck, his mouth moving to new spots, nibbling and biting and sucking, marking you as his own.

Instinctively he moved his hand to one of your breasts, pulling the tip and massaging it.

He began to move a little faster, a little deeper, his pleasure increasing. He groaned against your skin.

The feel of his hand on your breast sent ripples of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as he teased and played with your nipple.

The combination of his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast was almost overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, arching your back in response.

As he began to move faster and deeper, you felt a wave of sensations wash over you. The pain had faded, replaced by a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced.

You could feel him beginning to lose himself.

Unconsciously, your hand moved down to your clit, touching yourself as you moved your hips slightly with his every movement.

That increased the pleasure you felt, making your inner walls clench at his length.

He looked down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and awe.

He was lost in you, drowning in your scent, your touch, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made. He couldn't get enough of you.

As he watched you touch yourself, his breath caught in his throat. Seeing you give yourself pleasure while he was inside you was an image he was sure to never forget.

He groaned, unable to keep his own pleasure contained.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, his words interrupted by his ragged breaths.

He kept moving, faster and deeper, his mouth never leaving your neck. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred him on.

Every movement, every touch, every breath felt like a shock to your body.

You were lost in the sensations, your mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

"Please," you panted, "Please, I need you-"

You weren't sure how much more you could take, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

The combination of his words, his touch, and his movements were making it hard for you to think straight.

Your mind was swirling with sensation, and you couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him inside you, and the pleasure he was bringing you.

One of your hands grabbed onto his hair, the other one still rubbing your clit. A constant stream of soft moans and gasps was falling from your lips.

He walked away from your neck, having left countless marks all over the area.

His face could not have been redder at that moment.

The sight of him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and mouth open, trying to formulate sentences and words that would not come out, being replaced with incoherent sounds.

It was simply a delight for you.

He tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words were escaping him. His mind was consumed with desire, his body on the brink of ecstasy.

You knew he was entering his climax, as his movements became somewhat erratic and slightly sloppy.

And, him doing so, hit your g-spot.

He was losing control, his body moving on its own, driven by pure animalistic need. He wanted to hold on, to make this moment last, but he knew he was reaching his limit.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He looked at you, trying to steady his breathing and speak. But all that came out were ragged gasps and incoherent sounds.

"I wanna-" he pleaded.

For that, your eyes were full of tears of pleasure.

You could feel him reaching his limit, the way his breathing was growing more labored and uneven.

The way he was trying to speak, but unable to form words, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were lost in the sensations, your body on fire. Each movement, each gasp from him was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," he pleaded once again, his voice ragged and needy, "can I…?"

His words trailed off, but you knew what he was asking for. And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He wanted, no - needed to release.

He was on the edge, and you were right there with him.

You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more uncoordinated, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

You were so close yourself, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. You could feel it building deep inside, like a coil winding tighter and tighter.

He turned his lips to yours, both of you stifling your moans and groans.

He moved his lips against yours, his tongue tracing your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing him in. The kiss was messy and needy, both of you clinging to each other in search of more contact.

He let out a low moan against your mouth. He tried to hold back, to draw out the moment a little longer, but he was too far gone.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze pleading.

"I'm gonna-" he gasped out, his voice strained.

But he couldn't finish the sentence. He was completely lost in the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming him.

He buried his face into your neck, his body shivering against yours, as he held on to you tightly.

"I'm gonna-" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel him on the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was close, and so were you.

"Me too," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need, "I'm so close. Please-"

You gripped onto him.

He moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

And so, giving a few more deep penetrations, he reached his release. At the same time as you, as he pressed hard on your sweet spot, he made you come without hesitation.

As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he shuddered against you.

He let out a guttural moan, his body tensing up, as he released himself deep inside you.

He held onto you tightly, as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

He tried to speak, to form words, but the only sound that came out were unintelligible gasps and moans.

For a few moments, you both were lost in the intensity of the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of your erratic breaths.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths ragged and heavy.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You both laid there, your bodies tangled together, simply enjoying the afterglow.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxed against yours.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you.

"You're so amazing," he murmured, his voice husky.

He cupped your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His eyes were soft and filled with tenderness.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He let out a low chuckle.

"There are no words to describe how incredible that was."

You let out a shaky breath, a sated smile on your face.

You smiled weakly, still feeling a little boneless from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah," you agreed.

But you couldn't find the words either.

"Intense" was an understatement.

You turned your face into his hand, nuzzling into his palm, enjoying the feel of his cold skin against yours.

"I felt the same way," you replied, your voice soft and gentle.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "Absolutely perfect."

He shifted slightly, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

He gently placed you on the bed as he leaned further back on the bed, no longer sitting up.

He pulled one of the blankets off the bed and placed it over his body, then took you in his arms, placing you on top of him, making it slightly more comfortable for you than just being pressed against his metal body.

He pressed you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

For a few moments, you both lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feel of each other's bodies.

His arms cradled you spectacularly, in an attempt to make your body try to unwind from the previous physical activity. Then he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair.

When he spoke, you could hear the concern in his voice.

You shook your head, lifting your face to look up at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me," you assured him. "You were perfect."

You shifted slightly, snuggling deeper against him.

"Now I'm just very tired.."

He chuckled softly, hearing you say that you were tired.

He continued running his fingers through your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp.

"Exhausted, huh? I take that as a compliment."

He smiled, feeling a sense of pride that he had managed to tire you out so thoroughly.

He gently shifted under you, making himself more comfortable beneath you.

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He covered you with the blanket you were on top of, making sure you didn't get cold.

You melted into his touch, the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing and relaxing.

You let out a soft laugh, a little delirious from the lack of energy.

You snuggled against him, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

His touch was soothing, his fingers in your hair creating tingles on your scalp.

You let out a small sigh, feeling the exhaustion start to wash over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, your eyes drifting shut as you nuzzled against his chest.

He chuckled again as he felt you relax against him, your body sinking into his embrace.

He continued to lightly massage your scalp, knowing that it would help you fall asleep faster.

He felt your breath start to slow, your body growing heavier in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting a little used to the light coming through the window.

Attempting to stretch out, you felt trapped.

You looked up, seeing Boothill lying there. His eyes were closed.

Perhaps he was recharging his battery, you looked down again.

As your eyes cleared, you saw your legs and torso almost uncovered, which caused you to wake up completely.

You felt an incredible heaviness throughout your body, as if every bone and joint ached.

Mentally recoiling in an attempt to remember why, your eyes opened wide.

You'd had sex with him, in someone else's house, out loud. Your face turned red, "what a shame," you thought.

You sighed, leaning your head back on his chest.

Oh, but before you could try to get any more sleep, your hand reached as far as it could to your trousers, which were at one end of the bed.

When you managed to reach them, you pulled out your phone, going straight into the chat with your roommate.

You deleted the incomplete message you didn't get to send yesterday, typed in a new one and then proceeded to send it.

It read; "I rode a cowboy".

The chat almost immediately began to fill up with messages, none of which you read, proceeding to toss your phone to the side, closing your eyes again.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up. 

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is. 

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing. 

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional. 

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—” 

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe. 

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers. 

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way. 

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well. 

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you. 

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind. 

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body. 

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice. 

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all. 

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have. 

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit. 

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away. 

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be. 

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself. 

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums. 

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t. 

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you. 

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color. 

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?” 

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it. 

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.” 

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two. 

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it. 

You want her to really think about what you’re asking. 

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking. 

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie. 

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad. 

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long. 

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up. 

So, you have to move in silence. 

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise. 

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe. 

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change. 

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting. 

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride. 

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses. 

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona. 

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is. 

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway. 

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment. 

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy. 

It makes your heart swell. 

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. 

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters. 

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design. 

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.” 

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.” 

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old. 

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking. 

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?” 

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?” 

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him. 

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?” 

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly. 

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?” 

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words. 

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot. 

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad  because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother. 

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad. 

Mariah can fuck off. 

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway. 

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow. 

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place. 

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos. 

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while. 

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.” 

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play. 

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits. 

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special. 

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night. 

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts. 

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩 

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol 

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah. 

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege. 

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you. 

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life. 

Mariah can fuck off.

[punktactical]

⋆୨୧˚  PERVERT !

sanji ; catches his roommate taking photos of him, proceeds to get turned on.

⋆ " hello!! okay, so, I got OBSESSED with the perverted sanji and perverted reader fic😫😫 I wanted to request kind of the opposite ?? reader getting caught getting off to photos of sanji, and they end up doing it ?? sorry if it's generic ANYWAYS I love your blogggggg <3333 "

WARNINGS ; fem!reader , pervert!reader , virgin!reader, first time , unprotected , dirty talk , dacryphilia , praise , vaginal sex , shower sex , sanji is also a perv lawl ..

A/N ; srry for the hiatus ,, im back tho hehe. thank you for the request !!

⋆

THIS HAD BECOME A ROUTINE.

a very wrong routine.

long story short - you'd sneak photos of sanji in the shower and then go get off to them. simple as that. yeah it was wrong, but you couldn't help it. he was hot but he was also your roommate so it could never be anything more.

today was nothing new, sanji came home from work, exhausted as usual. you'd go 'prepare' dinner as he took a shower.

waiting in the kitchen, you'd listen attentively for the sound of water running, before grabbing your phone and sneaking into the bathroom. you were seriously starting to feel bad, but you were in too deep now. twisting the doorknob ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, not a lot so he couldn't feel the cold from the outside rush in.

through the foggy glass of the shower, you could barely see his lean figure, water running down his shoulders, all the way down to his ankles. you shuddered, shaking your head quickly before opening the camera to your phone. you always made sure to silence the shudder sound on your phone, to avoid being caught, of course. if you ever got caught, you'd probably jump off a building.

climbing onto the toilet seat, you peeked over the shower just enough to catch a glimpse of sanji. god, you almost had a nosebleed. gasping softly at the sight, you turn away quickly, looking away in shame. how could you do this? to your roommate? you had to be some sick pervert to do this.

which is exactly what you are.

with a shaky hand, you hold your phone up over the shower, making sure that sanji's eyes were closed at the time. sucking in a breath, your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in on him. biting your lip, you click the capture button, heart sinking the very next moment.

CLICK ! ⋆

if god existed, he was cruel.

cruel to perverts like you.

scrambling off of the toilet seat, you trip, falling onto the floor quickly. catching your breath, you try to get up, failing at the sound of the shower being turned off. crawling over to the door, you're about to open in until sanji opens the shower door.

you couldn't make out his expression, tears covering your vision. maybe you would've come up with an explanation if it weren't the heat beginning to pool between your legs. "s- sanji, i can explain!!" you squeal, jumping to your feet. you began to blabber about stupid things, excuses that made no sense, all while your phone was still open on the camera app, lying on the toiler seat.

sanji gulped, sniffing back a nosebleed. you're expression, paired with the nervous tears, made his cock stir. he bit his lip, watching as you rambled. he was literally exposing his body to you, why were you apologizing? he knew you were taking photos of him, he just could never bring it up to you.

your blabber died down as the tears finally rolled. you sniffled, your gaze now wracking sanji's whole body. his toned muscles, v-line, and a hardened dick made you red in the face. smacking a hand over your face, you squeak. "fuck- i'm so sorry! i'm such a freak!" turning around, you hand slams onto the doorknob, trying to pull it open. unfortunately, it seemed it was jammed.

"it's fine."

you shriek as you feel sanji's hands land on your shoulders, the water sinking into your shirt. "i like that you were taking photos of me, 'kay? and as you saw, i have a problem." you gulp, his hands moving from your shoulders down your arms, rubbing them lightly. the 'problem' pressed up against you, rubbing against your ass. you both gasp at the contact, sanji bit back a moan while you fight off the urge to whimper. "just fucking help me already." he groaned, already lifting up your shirt.

-

which is how you ended up in the shower with sanji, one leg lifted over his shoulder while the other was held up by his arm.

clothes were scattered on the tile floor, long forgotten. water slid down your back, glistening in the light.

his cock teased your clit, sliding back and forth between your slick folds. fat tears rolled down your cheeks, red from all the crying. "fuck- i forgot you're a virgin.. so fucking hot." he whispered the last part, biting his lip as he slapped his dick on your pussy. you sobbed, head hung low. he nestled his face into your neck, kissing along your jawline. "shh.. i'll go slow, such a pretty little thing .." he muttered, kissing your tears away. his hand gripped his cock, guiding it inside of you.

your breath hitched at the stretch, watching as his cock slowly sunk into your pretty pink pussy. sanji watched your face attentively, adoring the way your round eyes were wide with wonder. he almost felt bad he was your first.

he can't wait any longer. sanji grumbles, finally thrusting all the way into you.

you threw your head back with a sob, crying incoherent things. sanji sighs at the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing him, hiding his face in your neck. "sssanji, it's hurts..." you sniffle, wrapping your arms around his neck. you can feel him smile against your skin, making you shudder in delight. "shhh, you just need time to adjust.. you can take it."

over the course of a few minutes, you have been reduced to a whiny and whimpering mess, pathetic.

sanji sighed, rocking his hips back and forth slowly. he watched your expression of pleasure, teary eyed and drooling, just barely being able to take his cock. he wanted nothing more than to just fuck you deep and good, show you what you've been masturbating to. alas, he knows you've never taken real dick before and you need time.

it seemed you noticed his frustration though. you try to move your hips, but he clicks his tongue at you. your eyes meet and he smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "i don't think you can take it." he chuckles, moving his hips slowly, watching his cock move in and out of you. with a frustrated whine, you move your leg from his shoulder to his backside. you do the same with your other leg, wrapping around his torso and pulling him in closer. "please fuck me, sanji. oh god- please.." hearing your words turned him on. "shit- are you sure?" you nod frantically and that was enough for him.

his pace was steady at first, pumping himself inside of your velvety walls. your choked sobs and cries made him dizzy. he wanted to cum later, to make this experience special for you, but god he could barely hold back with the way you cried, begging him to fuck you deeper. the longer he went, the sloppier his pace got. you felt this funny feeling in your tummy, whining into sanji's neck. "sssanji! i'm gonna- i think i'm gonna cum, oh fuck!" sanji practically busted inside of you right at that moment. his hand quickly traveled to your clit, his thumb rubbing the senstivie bud in swift circles. the pressure against your clit and the way his cock nestled deep inside had you cumming in a matter of seconds. "cum, please cum on my cock, god you're so beautiful-!" he pleaded, pressing himself deeper into you. 

"please cum, gorgeous. i need to feel you cum on my cock- oh fuck!" the funny feeling in your tummy snapped, making you shriek in delight. sanji growled, fucking you through your orgasm. "just like that- shit...!"

he pulls himself out of you quickly, gripping his cock and pumping it swiftly. you watched with teary eyes as he pumped his load out onto your stomach, drizzling down your wet skin. you both huff in silence, trying to regain your breath. "i-i'm so gross, sorry sanji.." you start, sniffling. he shushed you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. mumbling against your lips, he grins.

"i knew you were taking pictures of me, i guess i should've made a move first."

⋆

[lovingache]

—four. sugawara koshi x f!reader smut | 18+

i'm having some thoughts about suga because of things so this is just me being insane about him ahhhh omg i love you suga <33 warnings: post time skip suga, dirty talk, edging, overstim, spanking, neck holding(?) he doesn't choke you but he holds your neck , condescension, marking, breeding, like slight dumbification not proofread!

suga's second favourite sound precedes his first. he loves the whiney, sputtering moans that he's able to pull from you when he makes you cum, of course. he could get off on that noise alone, the almost whimpers that tack onto the last shuddering syllables of his name as you cling to him, the way that you repeat it in hushed whispers as he holds your sweating, shivering body close to him— his cock deep inside your soaking hole.

but he fucking loves when he starts to move again and you do that perfect little cut-off cry. the cry that makes him chuckle as he holds you close again, his chest touching yours as he bullies his cock back into you as if he hasn't just made you cum until your eyes were rolling back. he loves it, perhaps even more, when you start to beg him to slow down, always "s-slow down, suga, please," but never stop because you both know that you could never ask him to stop.

yeah, he loves being able to pull back and look at you. your teary eyes, pout lips, feel the heat of your cheeks against his skin, and grin at you with that sunshine smile as he replies, "why not, baby? thought you wanted to be my slut?" he thrusts back in at the same pace that made you cum the first time, enjoying your whines and chuckling as you start to claw at his arms before moving to his back to drag red angry lines down.

"c'mon, baby, you're the one that asked for this, why you cryin'?" he murmurs into your ear, groaning when you clench around his cock and hissing at the sudden tightness. "aw, i see. my poor baby just wants to be talked down to, is that it? you want me to make this cute little pussy cry and cum all over me again and again like you're a toy, huh?" he smirks when he speaks in that deliciously condescending tone as he rolls his hips against you to grind against your clit.

he laughs as you pout at him, nodding your head as tears well in your eyes. "yeah? so you don't want me to slow down, then, right?" he asks and groans when you shake your head and, fuck, beg him to keep going. "oh, good girl," he groans so sweetly as his hips start to pick up his pace. "such a good slut for me aren't you? you just love my cock so much, don't you, sweetheart?" he says as he holds your legs open, fucking into you in earnest now.

"you gonna cum for me, my love?" he'll ask as he marks your neck, chest, collarbone, anything that he can get his mouth on. "yeah? you wanna cum for me?" he whispers as he looks at you with those kind hazel eyes. "why don't you ask again, honey, hm? you can do it," he teases as he smiles at your glaring, teary-eyed face. "c'mon sweetheart, ask me. beg me. i know you wanna cum, i can feel that tight little pussy fluttering around me. c'mon baby," he goads you, chuckling as you try to pathetically put the sentence together.

"oh, is my poor girl having trouble thinking? have i fucked you stupid already?" he asks, his hips slowing down and you whine as he keeps you on the edge. you focus on anything, the white ceiling, the dresser that needs organizing, anything but how good he feels on top of you. how soft his hair is, how solid his chest feels against yours, how his mole is so cute and would be so nice to kiss, how his breath fans over you, and, god, how good his cock is stretching you out and hitting that spot that makes you all teary and desperate.

"c'mon, baby, say it one more time," he says as he circles his hand around your throat, knowing how close that makes you, before thrusting in deep, so fucking deep, into you to grind your clit with his hips. "one more time. say it," he says in that gravelly voice that's almost a growl and it makes you shiver. "say it. say, 'koshi, please let me cum,'" he whispers, coaxing you to say the words.

the grin he has as you say it, the way it spreads through his face and crinkles his eyes softly while he keeps his hand on your neck as the other starts to circle your clit deliciously, is like sunlight. you buck and groan as he forces another trembling orgasm from you as he holds you close to him, cooing and praising you. "oh, my good girl. yeah, you love it just like that, don't you? love when my cock fucks you through your orgasm, hm? my sweet slut, so good for me. only me. my baby, my love," he groans into you as he helps you ride it out.

he hums as he you start to come down from the high, smiling at you so sweetly as your panting fills the room that was just echoing with the sound of his balls slapping against you, before he pulls out.

he chuckles as you whine, giving you a deep kiss to shush you as he soothes your hair and you're already shivering as he steps away from you to grab something from your dresser. you whine when he gets back in bed, holding your legs open so gently, as you hear the unmistakeable sound of your favourite vibrator turning on—the one that he bought you when you first started dating.

you stutter as he presses it against you, looking down at you so lovingly as your hips buck and you gasp so prettily. "thought you wanted to be used like a toy, my love?" he says, his hand working his stiff cock as he watches you. "hm? why're you begging me to slow down, we both know you want more," he tsks as he reprimands you, groaning as he watches you with glee dancing behind his eyes as he wrecks you.

he leans in, whispering softly into your neck as he marks you up again, "be good, baby. you'll have my cock again soon. just gotta make sure your insatiable pussy's satisfied before i fuck my cum into you, okay?"

he smiles when you beg him again and shakes his head, caressing your face with his other hand, damp from him fisting his cock with your wetness, and sighs. "i guess you're really getting dumb, aren't you, sweetheart?" he says, circling your clit with the humming vibrator as he watches you crest another orgasm. "it's okay, cum for me, baby. come on, cum for me. 'm not even making you beg anymore, i'm being so nice," he says almost jovially, as if him forcing a third orgasm out of you is a kindness from his heart.

"that's it— oh, good girl. my good girl," he says softly, soothing your hair before he's back inside of you to fuck you through it again. "oh, good girl. yeah? feels good right? what did i tell you, honey? i know your body better than yourself," he chuckles then groans as you start to beg for his cum and he nods at you, his eyes taking a darker shade as he watches you beg desperately.

"oh, my pretty girl. you beg so sweetly, honey. say it again," he commands and the guttural pull he feels at hearing your voice break as you beg for his cum is his undoing.

he cums, hard, thrusting into you and bottoming out as he bullies one final orgasm out of you right as he cums— loving the feeling of you fluttering around him. "fuck, yes, baby," he gasps and shudders, his hands on your hips so tight that you can already feel it bruising. "yes, yes, yes," he chokes out alongside a litany of your name as he keels over you, his hips stuttering as he fucks his cum into you.

he stays like that for a few minutes, soothing and holding you despite his fucked out state. he coos and praises you, "such a good girl. my good girl. love how you came all over me so much, honey," he says as he presses his mouth against yours in a deep kiss.

then, cheerily, he looks at you and makes you shudder with his next words, "next time, i'm getting six out of you, okay?"

[gravehags]

how to adopt and care for your ghouls

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT

Words: 1,966

Tags: established relationship, hijinks, fade to black (mostly) smut, ghouls doing ghoul shit, ghouls imprinting on reader like a bunch of feral kittens, copia going through it, hint at potential future uhhhh ghoulette/reader action maybe?

a/n: this is so stupid i'm obsessed with it

~~~

“That’s all the new ghouls settled in the den, then,” you announce, tired but accomplished. You shut the door with your hip and toe off your shoes before launching yourself into the arms of your beloved who is currently seated on the couch.

“Oof! Bene, bene, thank you for taking this on, amore. You know I could have had a sibling do this, si?”

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your way under the blanket and looking at the TV, currently on mute and playing some reality show, “I suppose but I don’t know, this is a huge step you’re taking and I wanted to support you in any way I can. Almost like I love and cherish you and want your success, as wild as that may sound.”

“You…love me?!” he scoffs, reaching to the side and hauling you on top of him as you squeal inelegantly, “I see why you might. I am very handsome, and smart, and successful, and did you know I have a band, bella signorina?”

“No!” you gasp, “A band? You? You never mentioned that to me, not even once, not even a little bit. I just thought you were some hot weird priest and well, I have hierophilia, so naturally–”

He shuts you up by firmly pressing his lips against yours, both of you giggling in between kisses. When you pull away and push yourself off the couch, backing up towards the bedroom he follows, stalking you with a sinister grin.

“Hierophilia, eh?” he purrs as you bump into the doorway and lean against it, “Does this agnellino require penance for her sins?”

You take your lower lip between your teeth and smile.

“Your Eminence, I’ve never seen you without your cassock before,” you murmur, eyes raking over his t-shirt, the red sweatpants, and the lovely, familiar tent in them that has your mouth watering, “It makes this so much easier.”

When you slowly lower yourself to your knees as he approaches, you hear him chuckle before sliding a bare hand into your hair.

“Go on then, ragazza mia,” he groans as you lower the waistband of his pants and take him out, “Show me how that–ah–pretty little mouth can atone.”

Your lips slide off the head only for a moment, your hand wrapped around him and stroking lazily.

“Thank you, Your Eminence.”

By the time the two of you crawl to bed, you’re both ruined and exhausted and entirely satisfied.

–

“Cazzo!”

You hear the curse loud and clear through the door to the rehearsal room and wince, your hand on the doorknob. The shouting continues as you cautiously open the door and eight heads swivel over to look at you. Your beloved looks exhausted and red faced, hair disheveled and midway through gesticulating wildly when he immediately drops his hands and his anger and scuttles over to you.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” you say, watching Copia attempt to push back the strands hanging in his face.

“No, no,” he waves, turning to cast his gaze behind him at the seated ghouls who still watch you intently. “I, eh. Amore can you–can you watch them for a moment? Five minutes, maybe ten? I need to uh…recompose myself. These fucking ghouls will not listen.”

The last part is hissed out as you cup his cheek, nodding.

“Go, take as long as you need.”

He turns his head to press a swift kiss to your palm before stalking out. A silence rings out as you turn to look at the infernal beings staring at you like raccoons caught in the garbage cans.

“Hey…guys,” you begin, slowly walking over to them. “I don’t know if you remember me but–”

“Of course we remember you,” the shorter ghoulette whispers, her tone reverent, “You’re the one who took care of us after we were brought here.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, surprised, “I-I mean I just made sure everyone got settled. You know, made sure everyone was comfortable. I don’t even think we know each other’s names.”

So you tell them yours.

And they tell you theirs.

And from there it’s a blur.

You don’t know who pulled you into a chair first - maybe Swiss? But all of a sudden you’ve got ghouls draped all over you, their tails wagging gleefully as they gaze at you with adoration.

“Are you the Cardinal’s mate?”

“Your eyes are so pretty.”

“Can you tell the Cardinal to stop calling us ‘piccoli stronzi’?”

“Are you single?”

You’re not sure who said what but that last question you definitely know is from Swiss by the way he grins at you and winks before being elbowed sharply in the ribs by Cirrus.

“Ok first,” you say, your heart full as Aether shifts to lay his head in your lap, “Tell me why Copia was shouting. What did you guys do?”

“Ugh,” Cirrus says, crossing her arms and canting her hips, “That. He’s pissed because he was trying to tell us how to do our jobs.”

“Well…” you say, “That’s kind of his job, isn’t it?”

“He’s no Papa,” Dewdrop huffs, slumping in his chair. You eye the scarring on the sides of his neck from his elemental transition and your heart hurts for him. Copia was deeply aggrieved about that particular ritual and though you weren’t present for it like you were for the summonings, hearing about it from him was enough to understand the brutality of it.

“He may not be Papa,” you begin carefully, “But he summoned you. Well, most of you. There is no Ghost project without him but also without any of you. You all have a symbiosis with him and…he just wants everything to go right. To be perfect. Surely you understand the stress on his shoulders to not fuck this up, yeah?”

Aether grunts from your lap.

“Wish you were the head of the Ghost project,” Rain murmurs, while towering Mountain nods in agreement. You laugh.

“None of you want to hear me sing, trust me,” you say, idly dragging your fingers through Aether’s hair as Cumulus and Cirrus watch with poorly concealed jealousy, “but my beloved has so much to give. I just ask that you give him a chance. For me.”

You don’t get a response as you hear the door shut behind you.

“Amore,” Copia says, looking a great deal more relaxed but wary as he beholds your captive audience, “This is an…interesting turn of events.”

When a disheveled Aether lifts his head off your lap and gives Copia a lazy grin, you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing.

“She was giving us a pep talk,” Cumulus chirps, rocking back onto her heels, “Really motivational stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Copia says, still cautious.

“Ok everyone,” Cirrus claps sharply, “Back to your instruments. We got an album to learn. Right, boss?”

The ghouls all look to Copia, but Copia is too busy looking at you to notice. You smile and shrug.

“I’ll uh…leave you all to it,” you say, standing up and walking over to your love to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, “See you later, hon. And…be sweet to them, hmm? For me?”

It’s the last time you hear Copia shout in that practice room.

–

You’re nice and cozy in bed, nestled against the pillows and watching stupid cat videos on your phone when there’s a soft knock at the door. At first you think maybe Copia forgot his keys but surely he would have texted you? You throw the covers back and slide off the mattress to pad over to the door. When you open it you expect to see your beloved, perhaps one of the papas, but instead there are…two ghouls.

“Hi,” the taller of the two says, trademark grin on his face. His companion stands silent, shoulders squared and arms behind his back.

“Hey Swiss, Dewdrop,” you say, smiling at them. “If you’re looking for Copia he’s–”

“We’re not,” Dewdrop says flatly, and his tone makes you laugh against your better judgment.

“Oh! Okay. Are…are you looking for me?”

Swiss nods eagerly.

“We uh,” he starts, rubbing his palms, “don’t feel good.”

Dewdrop shakes his head solemnly.

“Uh-huh,” you say, crossing your arms, “I mean, the infirmary will probably be able to help you better than I can but I’ll try my best. What’s up?”

“We can’t sleep,” Dew pipes up.

“Nope, not a wink,” Swiss confirms.

“I mean I’ve got some sleeping meds - can you guys take sleeping meds? Oh God, I don’t want to kill one of you I–”

“Can we stay with you?” Dew asks quietly.

You smirk.

“This your clever way of getting into my bed?”

Swiss coughs and Dew grins, teeth sharp.

“I mean, you said it, not us,” Swiss laughs, “but since you offered–”

You make a quiet noise of protest as the ghouls sidle into Copia’s living room, looking around. You shut the door, shaking your head.

“No funny business, my loves,” you coo, walking back to the bedroom with them on your heels. 

“Oh we wouldn’t do that to Cumulus and Cirrus. O-or the Cardinal.”

You spin on your heel.

“What was that about Cumulus and Cirrus?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison, faces unreadable.

You eye them both suspiciously before climbing back into your now cold bed, scooting to the middle.

“Well, come on,” you say, waving them over. Swiss climbs in on your right side and Dewdrop on your left, snuggling into you. You’re not sure if it’s just your imagination but you swear Dew is emanating warmth. It makes your eyelids heavy and you yawn so deeply your jaw cracks.

“Alright you two bozos, time for bed.”

“Thank you Lady Copia,” Dew says, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Christ, please don’t call me that,” you sigh, tilting your head to rest on Swiss’. As your companions drift off a steady purr begins to rumble between the two of them, lulling you to sleep.

“What the fuck?!”

Your eyes snap open and you choke on your gasp upon seeing a figure in the dark and a glowing white eye staring down at you. The light comes on not long after, and you blink up at your love.

“Hey, hon,” you say, your voice hoarse. “What’s wr–oh.”

The two ghouls are still in your bed, eyes shut. Swiss has his leg slung between yours and both have their arms wrapped around your waist. 

“At the risk of sounding like a cliche,” you murmur, yawning, “it’s not what it looks like.”

Copia glowers down at the three of you.

“Is that right?”

He’s being so very loud, your beloved.

“Shh bello mio, they’re sleeping.”

“In my fucking bed,” he hisses. You know he’s annoyed but you’re just glad he’s being quieter about it now. He throws his hands up and starts muttering in furious Italian. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell them to move. Guys,” you say, nudging them gently, “guys you gotta get up. Copia thinks we’re having a torrid affair.”

Neither of them stir but Swiss starts snoring loudly and you swear you hear a snicker from Dew.

Copia looks incensed.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t even move let alone make them move.”

“Stronzi,” Copia growls, “get out of my bed and your hands off my love or I will send you back to the fucking pit.”

There’s definitely no mistaking Dew’s laughter this time and you have to bite your lip to muffle your own as you look up at your furious lover. He hovers over the three of you, fuming for a minute before turning on his heel and stomping off to the living room to fling himself onto the couch. As you fall back asleep, arousal stirs in your belly imagining the ways he’s going to make you pay. 

You hope it involves penance.

[daisiescomelate]

Love Spell

Prompt: secret crush + alcohol = disaster. Sukuna believes himself able to hold his liquor but he might quit drinking all together after tonight.

Content: Sukuna/Reader, drunk Sukuna, drunk flirting, sukuna hiding his crush.

masterlist

The music reverberated on his body, pumping his blood and making him feel hot. His vision was a blast of red light and dancing shadows. He struggled with the floor that couldn’t hold steady, the drink on his hand spilled a little from the side. He gulped it down so nothing else would go to waist. A figure in front of him curled their fingers calling him over and he smiled, ready to step forward, when from behind a familiar voice called his name.

“Sukuna”

The ring of that voice was clear to his ear even in the chaos of the club. It shot a run down of electricity down his spine to set all over his skin and on the pit of his stomach with a tingle. He turned around with the intention of focusing his eyes on the ones he wanted to see. Your image separated from the blur of the crowd and took a better shape as you got closer.

“Sukuna, it’s late. Let’s go, I have work tomorrow.” You grabbed his wrist, trying to make him focus on you. The trick was not necessary, his gaze was set on you and your outfit. If his eyes wondered it was to take a better look. “We are the only ones left, and you’re too drunk to stay by yourself, buddy.”

“Yeah, sure”, he said absentmindedly. As if he would offer resistance to the idea of you taking him anywhere. Damn, that outfit looked good on you.

“Alright, chop chop.” You pulled his arm and guided him through the mass of people towards the exit. He followed you from behind and his eyes couldn’t help to wonder somewhere they shouldn’t, but he was relatively quick to catch himself. The place smelled like alcohol and sweat, but tailing behind you he got a trace of that scent of yours, not a perfume… shampoo? What shampoo was it again? He should buy it, it smells so good.

White light broke in the distance. The mess of bodies ended and the night breeze hit his face. A bulk guy in plain black said something to you, making you smile in his direction as you answered back. Sukuna frowned at the dude as he passed him. The man stared in confusion as he held the door open for you both.

“Easy, tiger.” He told him, which only annoyed Sukuna further. He could take down that guy with an arm tied behind his back. Was his height what gave him so much confidence? Sukuna had knocked out people much taller than him.

Sukuna felt his arm being tugged again and he remembered who he was following. He heard the sound of the heavy metal door close behind himself and like that the night fell quiet. His body already missed the vibration and his ears felt clogged, but now the street lights made it easier to see and you looked stunning with the white gleam surrounding you like a halo.

“Can you walk?” you asked, changing the grip you had on his wrist to his shoulder. His brain needed a second to process your words, too focused on the way your hand traveled up his arm. Was it the cold from outside or the path your fingers drew on his skin that gave him goosebumps and made his head give another spin? He finally made sense of the question. It sounded like a stupid question, to be honest.

“Of course– Of course I can walk” he said, but for some reason the words were hard to get out because of the weight of his tongue. Sukuna lifted one hand and touched the tip of his tongue with the tip of his fingers wondering what the hell was wrong with it. The action seemed to move his center of gravity because he tilted to the side and almost fell into the pavement.

You were there immediately, catching his weight with your whole body and pushing him straight back up. At the contact of your sides pressed together a low moan escaped him. His arm seemed to move on its own when he curled it around your waist. If he tilted his head and moved it to the side your lips would be right there for him to catch.

“C’mon big boy, use both feet.” You said while you struggled.

The shape of them was so tempting. He wanted to push closer and trap your lower lip between his teeth, lick to finally get an idea of what they tasted like. A thought flashed at the back of his mind, something he was supposed to remember. Something important.

“Sukuna please, cooperate with me. You’re too heavy.” You catched that lip between your own teeth and then the tip of your tongue flashed out to care for that spot. Sukuna followed every bit and felt his inside flutter. Then, the previous thought sparked through the haze of the whiskies and margaritas and he remembered.

Fuck, too close. He thought, and quickly moved to get on his two feet properly and took his arm away.

The sudden motion made you stumble. You catched yourself by holding his arm again. When you were secure on your feet again you looked up at him.

“Ready now?” You said with a scolding frown.

In the haze of the alcohol Sukuna had almost forgotten how elemental it was for him to keep his hands to himself when you were around. The wave of rationality, unfortunately, quickly reseeded when he felt you hug his waist and place his arm over your shoulder. Suddenly he couldn’t remember the important thing.

“I will help you walk, let's go. There is no one else on the streets at this hour, I want to get home as soon as possible.” You secured his position by holding his hand that was hanging over your shoulder and gave the first step forward.

Sukuna hummed at your perfume again and buried his nose on your head.

“You still feel like flirting?” You laughed, because he had been playing and praying all night as he usually did, setting for anyone that showed him a green light.

“Mmm…” he answered, trying to discern if what he was smelling was some kind of fruit or herb. He felt like there was some vanilla in there.

Something was odd, though.

Ah, yes.

Sukuna moved his hand and catched yours again, intertwining your fingers together.

There.

He felt your body shake slightly and he guessed you were silently laughing but he couldn't figure out what it was. He heard something along the line of ‘so cute’. Maybe there was a puppy somewhere.

Sukuna raised his head to look for the puppy, pushing you to the side with his weight when his balance changed. He felt you push in the opposite direction so as to not be sent out of the sidewalk and into the streets.

The streets were soaked after a light night rain. Water dripped from the leaves of the trees you passed. The fresh air was so different from the smoke heavy air of the club. Sukuna thought back on how fun the night was. He had found a very fun, very pretty redhead as soon as you all got there and followed her without looking back.

He remembered her dancing while staying close to him and how hypnotizing she had become a few rounds into the night. He was sure he knew who he was taking home with him then when he got bored of the party. He tried to remember what she had said her name was. Heather? Haidy? No wait, that was someone else. The name with the H was the blond one. Red hair, red hair… Maybe he never got her name? It was loud. He hadn’t asked either.

Sukuna moved his free arm to pat over his jeans and jacket. Walking with him twisting and moving like that made it hard for you to keep your hold of him.

“Did you forget something? Your phone?”

“Nah. I got someone’s number… I don’t– I don’t remember actually. I’m looking.”

“Can’t you do that when you get home?”

“She was hot. Lincy– Lily– something.”

“Well, looks like she really catched your interest.” So much that he forgot to catch her name. “We’ll look for her next week.”

“Mmm…” Sukuna hummed pleased. “She really knew how to dance.”

“I’m sure, Romeo.”

Sukuna delighted in the memory for a second longer and then frowned. “We were having a good time, but I lost her at some point.” Did someone else call him over? Maybe she got a sight of someone else, or maybe…

“There were a lot of people there and you were very drunk, it wasn’t hard to miss people in that crowd. I was talking with someone too, I left to get a drink and they were gone. I couldn’t find them again. It was a shame, they were cute.”

Ah, right…

Sukuna pressed his jaw at the memory. He had seen you in the crowd with a person standing a little bit too close to you for his own comfort. He was too far gone with the liquor to care to be subtle about it. After a while staring at the person talking you to your ear and looking clearly displeased, Redhead lost interest and left him to pout by himself.

Standing in the middle of the crowd dancing around him, with a glass on hand, he watched you too get all cozy with each other. The person made some stupid joke and you laughed like an idiot with your eyes shining under the dim light. The person was nothing but lacking. Shitty plain cheap clothes, messy hair, too many accessories. Sukuna had a bad feeling about this person and felt like he should walk all the way there to warn you.

When you moved away from them he didn’t waste a second to walk into their direction to say hi. He didn’t do anything to them, he didn’t even mention you, but they must have got the message that Sukuna thought they were annoying because soon they escaped to the darkest corner of the club to hide from him.

It was once the problem was taken care of that the blond winked at him from a distance. Right, Haily. What happened after that is more of a blur, most likely that was the point when he started accepting the flashy cocktails from the bartender.

You walked another block with Sukuna dragging his feet. Sukuna thought back to the sunset peach cocktail he shared with another faceless person. Your steps were heavier on the pavement and you were audibly struggling to breathe.

You both walked another few blocks like that until you called it quits. You stepped away from the streets and carried him to the side. You were passing a wide park with a small pond next to a set of trees just ahead with two benches that had a nice view of the water next to it.

“Okay, I need a break.” He heard you say. He followed you as you walked to the side and next to one of the benches. “Sit down, big boy.”

Sukuna dropped all his weight over the bench. He cursed between his teeth when he noticed the seat was still wet because of the rain. He tried to stand up but you pushed him back down. “If you stand up now and you fall on your ass I won’t be able to pick you back up.” You said rubbing your shoulder. “Jesus, how much do you weigh? Do you really need that much muscle?”

“You don’t like ‘em?” He smiled and stretched his arms over the back of the bench and spread his legs, as if setting himself on full display.

He saw something under the dim lights of the street lights above, something that delighted his drunken brain. You looked slightly embarrassed by looking and he had the sudden urge of seeing if he could make it worse.

He reclined forward, set on not breaking eye contact.

“Why are you standing there? I don’t bite.”

You sighed heavily and sat next to him, with his arm behind your back. The tip of his fingers brushed the hair at the end of your nape. “Your outfit looks nice today.” You rolled your eyes, which pleased him.

Sukuna knew of his reputation and how so many people saw him as a player –not that he could deny the allegations. If he acted like any other thing around you it would only be suspicious. So he kept a solid act with you, but never let it go out of hand.

But why deny himself something he wanted? Because he came to realize he might want this a little bit too much. No relationship in his life had ever been nothing but flitting. He didn’t know how to make long term things work. And he had the impression if he ever wanted to try something with you it would be a one chance opportunity. So he made a plan. The main problem about his lack of commitment was how fast he got bored of people, but he had a strong feeling that wouldn’t be a problem with you. The second issue that interfered with his relationships was his whole attitude. He was pretty and hot while his mouth was shut or doing some other things, but very few people could truly stand him on a day to day basis.

So he was doing some self improvement work, like a big boy. But it was taking too damn long. His ego had done a great job keeping him blissfully blind to the depths of his bullshit. Even he had a hard time listening to himself speak as of now.

It was taking way too long. He was abashed by how much crap was engraved in his personality and how hard all his stupid patterns run down on his system. He gained self awareness and absolutely nothing else, which was a nightmare because he could now clearly see all the ways the ship would go down if he ever took the first step with you but had no solution to any of his problems. The clock was ticking, monkeys kept crawling your way to lamely flirt with you, and Sukuna had to bite his tongue and hope none of those assholes could convince you of anything.

Fortunately he learned that he could distract you a little bit with his games.

He played with a strand of your hair that had fallen out of place, keeping his eyes fixated on the skin of your neck. He traced a short line from the line of your hair to your upper back over your spine. You shudder and slightly move away by instinct.

“Cold breeze?” He asked, playing you. It gained him a scold but you immediately looked away from him. He smiled to himself and traced the same line for the second time. There was a slight shudder again but you didn’t move and he smiled to himself.

He tilted his head to be closer to you and blew over the shell of your ear. You jumped at the unexpected action, covered your ear and flipped your face only to realize he was close enough for your noses to be close to touching.

“Where are we going anyways?” he asked without moving.

“What?” You asked dumbfounded.

“Where are we walking to, my house or yours?”

You blinked, “Oh.” You cleared your throat and said, “I was going to drop you off at your place and then go back to mine.”

“That sounds so complicated, you should just stay the night.”

“I don’t feel like sleeping on a couch, thank you. My back is going to kill me tomorrow.”

“My bed is big. No need for you to stay on the couch.”

You opened and closed your mouth without a sound like a fish out of the water.

Sukuna moved forward, purposely further infringing into your personal space.

“I’m not gonna do anything to you. No need to worry.” He smiled widely, because he meant it. Sukuna was working so hard to keep his hands to himself, if you wanted to make him change his plans you would have to beg him.

“What’s the deal with you today?”

Sukuna looked down at your lips –which made your eyes grow wide– and took a while to think.

“Too much alcohol, maybe.” Me murmured to himself and straightened his posture. “Argh…” he complained and stretched his arms over his head. Alarms were ringing at the back of his mind again and he felt like he had to back up immediately.

“So, are we staying here all night or are we going home now?” He said as he crossed his arms over his chest looking forward and avoiding the stream of questions in your eyes. “I feel like it’s about to start raining again.” He said looking up at the sky.

You looked up and the grimace on your face told him you agreed with him. “Okay, let’s go.

You stood up and extended a hand to help him out of the bench too. Sukuna placed both hands over his knees and stood from the seat.

“I’m feeling much better, actually.” He said but still placed his arm around your shoulders as he walked forward. He didn’t lay his weight on you again, instead he focused on keeping his stand so no other part of you would actually touch him. “Why don’t we buy something to eat on our way back, love?”

“At three in the morning?”

“There is a convenience store around the block close to my apartment. Did you bring your wallet?”

“Pay for yourself.”

“I never pay for anything when I go out. I don’t have money on me.”

Sukuna heard a quiet ‘idiot’ from you and laughed. You were still the only two people out there so he couldn't care less about how loud he was.

[papaya-twinks]

Hello my dear!!

I have had this idea in my head for a while now... Singer!y/n and oscar were together for a short amount of time(in secret, in his f2 career) and they broke up so he could get back together with his ex, but you did a tattoo of him , something sweet like his initials, and then you meet again after 2 years, you are introduced to each other, and he catches your wrist and sees that your tattoo is in a bad place ( you tried to erase it with scratches ) and he feels so gulity?? And breakes up with his gf before confessing to you?

I need the angst, the feels and the smut afterwards

Thanks, byee

Warnings: Angst, uhhh, idk, self harm?

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

A/N - should I add smut and feels in a part two perhaps 🤔

You’d been struggling for ages, since Oscar left you. No one knew of your relationship, it was private during his F3 days. But still, you loved him do much, so, so much that you even had 81 tattooed small onto your wrist. You remember the day you went to get it done, he’d sat beside you, a proud smile on your face as you watched him, your eyes wide with the pain. “Doing so well, baby,” he’d said. Now? No more of that. 

“Hey Y/N!” a mechanic called, recognising you as a singer. “Hey,” you smiled, walking into the garage. You’d met Lando through a mutual friend, and he’d ended up inviting you to the race, to watch. “Hey,” you smiled, seeing the man himself. He was standing by Oscar, who you didn’t recognise, as you stood beside him. “It’s fucking hot, Jesus,” you groaned, the Singapore heat hitting your body like a ton of bricks. 

“Couldn’t agree more,” Lando tugged at his shirt, as Oscar watched. He didn’t recognise you either, just surprised to see a pretty girl. Probably one of Lando’s little fuck buddies, Oscar thought. “How’s the singing going?” Lando asked, in an attempt to bring a conversation into this. You assumed that HE assumed that Oscar knew who you were, being a singer and all that.

But nope. “It’s alright,” you shrugged, the heat making you kinda tired as you yawned, your hands coming to stretch back instinctively. “That’s when Oscar saw it. The same tattoo he’d watched his girlfriend get fro him. But it was different now, covered in scratches, bloodied, cut up. Not like before. You saw Oscar staring, making you blink and frown. A bit nosy. 

“Show me that ,” he demanded, not a flicker of the nice, polite man people spoke of on TV. You frowned, but did what he said, sticking your wrist out. “Y/N?” he stared at the cut up arm, the nail marks along it, as if you’d tried to pry the ink out of you. “Hi?” you said, confused, as Lando watched, equally as bemused. “Why’d you do this?” and held out your own wrist. 

“Dude, I don’t see why it’s your issue,” you said, immediately becoming defensive, “Oscar, mate, drop it, it’s her stuff,” Lando said coolly, prising your hand softly out of Oscar’s. That’s when it hit you. Oscar. “You,” was all you could muster, your eyes wide. He looked the same…but different, so very different. You stumbled back, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not thinking about how stupid of a question was.

“I race here,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke. You said nothing, still staring. “Okay,” was all you said, turning back Lando. “Why are you here?” Oscar asked, eyes narrowed. “Lando invited me,” you blinked. “Oscar. Mate, calm down, the second you see a remotely pretty girl, you don’t gotta-,” Lando started but Oscar cut him off. “A remotely pretty girl? You mean my ex?” Oscar snapped, rolling his eyes. 

“Sorry, what am I missing?” Lando asked, his euds wide at Oscar’s snap. He’d never seen his teammate raise his tone, even in a joking manner, so he was surprised. “Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged it off. “Yeah alright, then,” Oscar snapped, “if it doesn’t matter, I’m going,”. 

You didn’t say anything as he spoke. “Oh, and, please don’t go round fucking the whole grid like you’re collecting Pokémon,” he rolled his eyes, “I was enough, don’t start with Lando,”. You didn’t say anything again, his words stinging as Lando watched you sympathetically, watching Oscar walk away, cursing to himself. Wow. 

[claiestve]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 ꨄ Zaros

˜”* ❝𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱɪᴅᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

“Zaros!” You called out to your ‘rival’ with a joyful spirit. He decided to have a get-together after the trials. Being this happy to see him after you won the throne was strange. If it were a few months ago, you’d be terrified and not looking forward to seeing him. However, your relationship has changed since then. He was less of a rival and more of a friend. 

He swore he was happy for you and as much as you believed him, you couldn’t erase the past. You knew that he'd be bitter if this had happened before you decided to work on your relationship. 

But it wasn’t time to think about that. You were ready to have the good time you were promised without stress. 

“How do I greet you now? ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Your Highness’?” He teased. 

“Those sound stupid, Zaros. Especially coming from you.”

“I see you haven’t changed, even with your new status.” 

Zaros positioned your arm into his, linking them together. 

“I brought you here because I have some things I want to address to you. Before that though,” He guided you to the garden which had a new addition to it, “I set this spot up for us. I thought you’d like it.”

“It’s beautiful, Zar– Is that for me?”

Your eyes lit up seeing a flower crown made for you. It was made of your favorite flowers. Zaros knew all of your favorite flowers and why. He used to tell you that they fit your personality well but you never understood what that meant. However, seeing them all together and designed for you, you get it now. 

“Zaros! You made me a flower crown?” You unlinked your arms and faced him with heart-eyes. 

He picked up the flower crown and placed it on your head, “It matches the one I have on.”

“Is that–?” You stopped. 

The flower crown that was on his head was small, a bit too small for him now. Could it be? You didn’t know he would keep it, especially for this long. 

“It’s the one you made me.” He smiled.

“From years ago. Zaros, this is adorable.”

“I still remember when you made me this. It quickly became one of my prized possessions, you know?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Why do I have to close my eyes?”

“Because I have a surprise for you!”

“Ah,” Zaros tried to reach his hand out to find you,” I don’t like surprises.”

You shooed his hand away and placed something on his head. 

“Okay, open!”

He opened his eyes and reached for the top of his head. 

“What is this? Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah? It’s a crown– a flower crown. I made it for you.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I always wondered where you found the time to make that for me. We were really busy at the time.”

You reminisced in the past, holding both of your flower crowns together. You haven’t thought about that day since it came. How could you? It was so long ago and you were normally too occupied to think about the past. 

“But um,” He picked his flow back up, “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Right. You said you needed to tell me something?”

“Yeah… let’s sit down.”

Before you could let the sweet, nostalgic moment go, it was already taken over by a new uneasy atmosphere. 

“I recognize how we’ve become closer over time. The trials helped with that and now that they’re over, we won’t spend as much time together.”

“Is that what this is about? Zaros, we don’t have to drift apart–”

“That’s not exactly what I’m worried about. I’m worried that if I wait, it’ll be too late. I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way around when we first met. The feeling only grew stronger with time and even for the 8 years we didn’t speak, I still felt it.”

“Felt what?”

He looked around, trying to find something to focus on other than your gaze. 

“Love. I’ve fallen in love with you. I couldn’t go on much longer hiding this truth from you. It felt dishonest and that’s the last thing I want to be.”

“You’re… Zaros, you’re in love with me?”

He nodded, still not looking at you. He didn’t want to see your pitiful expression because he knew it was there. 

“Zaros,” You started, “I’m so sorry. I don’t feel what you feel for me. I didn’t know you felt that way and I wish I would’ve seen it.”

“It’s not your fault…”

Zaros’ voice had a different tone. Now, it was accompanied by the sounds of him holding back tears. You could hear and see him fighting back the faucet in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Zaros!”

You tried to keep him from leaving but he was gone. So much for building your relationship.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

okokokoko i'll stop making earis such a cutie

ALSO OMG I FOUND THE ALEX FIC SO I CAN POST PART 3 (the last partttt) LIKE IN 2 DAYS SO HANG IN THERE YALLL

so basically this fic, alex fic in 2 days, n sometime after kayson fic!

[sigmalonso]

untitled strollonso drabble

tags: alternate universe - non-drivers, tattoo artist! fernando alonso

notes: i love strollonso? kinda? i'm very normal about them? i hope?

"Done. I get this wrapped up and⸺Lance, you okay?"

Lance blinked owlishly at the mention of his name. The steady buzz of the tattoo machine had ceased, but he could still feel the vibration all the way to his teeth. His head felt light but in an odd way and he couldn't feel the tip of his fingers. He should have taken the offer for a break.

"Lance? Oh, poor boy." There was a rustle before a warm palm gently cupped his face. Lance nudged back against the touch pitifully. "How are you doing, chico? Do you need time?"

Yes, time is good, Lance nodded his head, squinting his eyes to fight against the haze in his vision, what he needs is some time alone with his ultra-attractive tattoo artist. Nothing else matters in this world.

He heard a choked-out laugh before the touch withdrew. "Nooo," Lance whined, long limbs flailing to get that hand on him again. "Where're you goin'?"

The owner of the hand didn't return, which left Lance extremely dejected. He sat slumped in his chair and, through his woozy head, he wondered where went wrong. Perhaps he was being too much. But it wasn't his fault that he found his tattoo artist attractive. He was an adult man, a bisexual man, with fully functioning eyes. And his tattoo artist kept calling him 'baby', which did nothing to appease said attraction.

He was so not getting another tattoo, lest he would do something stupid like fall in love with his tattoo artist.

"Fernandooo," Lance called out, half-whining again. His chest ached, but that was probably because he just had needles poking his skin.

"Lance," Fernando said from somewhere nearby, and Lance perked up at the sound of his voice, "I'm wrapping your tattoo up, baby. I don't want this to get infected."

At the explanation, Lance let out a sigh before leaning back against the chair. Fernando probably gives amazing aftercare, if this is how he treats his customers, Lance thought dreamily.

"Oh, Dios⸺adrenaline got you badly, eh," Fernando murmured from above his head and Lance felt himself go crosseyed in his attempt to stare at Fernando. "Here, drink this." Something was poking his lips before Lance dutifully latched on it. "Can you do it, baby?"

Lance nodded his head despite the odd way his neck was bent in an odd way. Fernando had given him juice. It was something that came in a tiny box children had but clearly, Fernando didn't trust him to hold it properly because he put the box on the table next to his chair.

Surprisingly, the juice seemed to clear his head.

His vision was no longer hazy and, to his joy, he could now see Fernando's beautiful hazel eyes. Lance smiled at him, a little goofy around the edge

Thank you, Fernando, Lance said inside his head, but what came out was, "You're so hot."

"Yeah," Fernando said through a laugh, "adrenaline really got you badly, baby." He pat Lance's cheek, whose eyes widened in a mix of surprise and terror. "Don't act so surprised. You said a lot of things when I worked on your tattoo. It was very flattering."

"What else did I say, Fernando?" Lance called out, but Fernando only flashed him a cheeky grin and a wink before he disappeared into the backroom. "Fernando!"

Lance fell back into his chair with a groan. He was so not getting another tattoo, lest he embarrassed himself like this again.

[rainswept]

saving u all from the asshole fuckboy aventurine agenda half of this fandom is so hellbent on portraying

[welcometogrouchland]

Disgustingly messy and crusty sketch dump but I couldn't get my own terrible theory out of my head and ended up making a bunch of sketches about it. Also at the end a bonus dickbats and Damian doodle bc I was reading an issue of their Batman and Robin run (IDs in Alt)

[moeblob]

Someone sent me a message on Discord like "why is everyone obsessed with the Random Guy" in regards to the tags on my previous post. SO. I definitely rambled there but also I love this plot a whole lot and it's very dear to me so:

Tolliver is the "Just a Guy" who Kronos wants dead for stealing all of the Devil's focus. The thing is, Tolliver doesn't WANT the focus but not much he can do! He was born and his parents opted to sell /his/ soul to the succubi in exchange for wealth and fame. So while they retained souls (and then promptly died after ticking off the wrong people with their money and habits, coincidental deaths of course) he doesn't have that leniency. He can do whatever he wants and he'll still be dragged to Hell when he dies even if he's a saint. His soul is already waiting for him down there.

So the Devil is like "well, time to send low ranking demons after my living toy but I distinctly do not wish him dead yet" and that's not really a thing Tolliver knows. So he thinks if he doesn't really fight back he's just gonna die early and while he doesn't think it's nice on earth, he'd rather not start his eternal burning quite yet. So he uses a magic marker (literally) to ward off and banish the demons. That's why the Devil is invested in him - it's entertainment on earth with his future property!

Kronos going up to kill him and then failing and then becoming his roommate is actually the reason why other demons kinda track Tolliver. They're tracking Kronos. They need Kronos back in Hell come on stop loitering on earth buddy. (he continues to loiter on earth)

The siren is purely coincidental in that Tolliver sees her when it's cold and gives her his jacket completely unaware she isn't even human. Then we have one of the bad guys, The Boogeyman. He feeds off of nightmares and that means Tolliver is a delight since all he HAS is nightmares. Man's never had a good dream in his life. So it's a nice little "promised" meal but he ropes the Sandman into luring others to sleep for him to feed off of. Eventually Lady Luck gets involved with Boogie and she's a bit arrogant and childish (there's lore there) and then she sees Tolliver. Fighting against Boogie's grasp despite having nothing to fight for. And she decides he deserves one win in his life since it's clear that the hand he's been dealt sucks. And stops helping Boogie which ends up being his demise.

All the demons that directly interact with Tolliver aren't there for the random guy, honestly. They're there for Kronos. Who unfortunately is obsessed with Tolliver (and he's got such a weird gay crush on the guy and gets so emotionally distraught when Tolliver doesn't feel the same cause he doesn't feel anything for anyone because he doesn't have a soul and feels zero attachment.)

[faunandfloraas]

inadvertently stopped using my freckle fade cream without thinking.... right around the time i started making gifs of felix.... coincidence?

[dashiellqvverty]

my opinion on season 11 is that ian and mickey were all over the place from episode to episode and i ultimately wasn’t very happy with where it ended for them

[gu6chan]

Sometimes I think about my very short-lived experience watching Happy Sugar Life and how the only real potent "message" i got from it was through the fanbase with the realisation "wow okay so we are NOT past the 'women can't be paedophiles' narrative huh" because i remember so gleefully checking the comments only to be hit with shit like "they didn't have sex so i don't think it's paedophilia" or "given her past i don't think she INTENDED paedophilia" or the time i saw an rp blog for the mc like "I interpret it as platonic :)))" like mc wasn't dressing an 8 year old up in a wedding dress, grooming her, doing vows, kissing her on the mouth and making plans for how they'd elope and marry each other

Like okay, you're entitled to your interpretations ofc but at what point does it stop being an interpretation and start turning into cope because this is NOT the topic you want to do that with!!!!!!