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#I know next to nothing about her and still she is my everything
jo-com · 3 days
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˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy
Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux
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Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable
Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!
Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread
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Yn.cult just posted!
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Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋
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Bellahadid No invites??
Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE
Bellahadid You better🤨
Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille
Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭
Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!
Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐
User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭
User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl
Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!
Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.
Charles_Leclerc Agreed.
User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭
Yn.cult just posted!
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Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋
Tagged; Vougemagazine
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User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time
User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨
User6 Faxx☝🏻
User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨
Vougemagazine lovely having you!
♥️ liked by the author
Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢
Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.
But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.
With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.
Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.
The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.
“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.
“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.
Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.
Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?
Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.
“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.
She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.
“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.
So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.
They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.
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Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋
Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!
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suashii · 2 days
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— 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ injuries ノ pet names ( darlin', sweetheart, doll :3 ) ノ mentions of food
so i wrote about horse riding but. . . know very little about horse riding! i did my best to research but there may be some details i got wrong so apologies in advance!
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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“that’s it, pretty girl, nice and easy.”
the horse beneath you sighs and you do the same, relaxation and contentment in the breath you let go of. it’s been a while since you’ve gone riding, a few years at least, but being sat on a saddle with reins in your hands feels as natural as it used to when you’d ride nearly every day of the summer. you’re lucky that your favorite mare—clover—is still healthy enough to take out.
you gently squeeze your legs into clover’s sides in a silent signal for her to move from a trot to a canter. the sequence of her hoof beats effortlessly switches from the two-beat gait to one of three beats and her pace quickens. the wind against your face is stronger now but you welcome the sensation, a small smile making its way to your face.
as a kid, riding was fun and exciting more than anything else but as you’ve grown into an adult, the activity has become something more cathartic—a release of sorts. your stress slips away when you’re on the saddle, lost in the summery breeze. you don’t allow a second for the thoughts that constantly nag at you to linger. all of your focus is granted to clover and the field ahead, to how you feel here and now and how you wish you could feel like this all the time.
unfortunately for you, nothing lasts forever.
you hear the dog before you see her, barking discernible in the distance. clover must, too, her ears pointing back to listen more closely to the sound approaching from behind. as the barking grows louder, the horse’s neck tenses, and it only takes a second more for her to decide that the noise is worth investigating. you’re in alert mode now, too—no, it’s probably closer to panic mode. it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about the horse getting spooked and even then you had your grandpa or parents to rely on to make sure nothing got out of hand.
you don’t have time to even think about what the right thing to do in this situation is before clover spots the dog bounding towards the both of you.
“clove—!” you try to calm her down, to let her know that the dog isn’t a threat that she should be scared of, but it’s far too late. before you can comprehend what’s happening, clover is rearing. the motion combined with your loose hold on the reins is enough to send you flying off the horse’s saddle. a scream is ripped from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut at being in the air, destined to fall.
you hit the ground with an audible thud.
pain courses through your body—your back, your shoulders, your head. everything hurts and hot tears spring to the corners of your eyes but they pool there, refusing to stream down your cheeks. despite all the pain, the growing soreness, you find your mind wandering. where did clover run off to? what was the dog doing out here alone? she rarely leaves the house by herself. someone is yelling, they’re calling your name. is it boothill?
“shit, little lady,” he shakily breathes, “you okay?”
relief washes over you and for a short second, you think that you’ve never been happier to hear the farmhand’s voice. it’s tinged with concern, a characteristic you have yet to see him display—especially for you. it doesn’t stop in his voice either, you can feel it in how he takes a hold of your shoulders, his grip firm but not tight enough to cause you any unnecessary pain.
you take the risk of finally opening your eyes and instead of being met with the sun’s blinding rays, boothill’s face crowds your vision. his eyebrows are pulled together and for once, there’s no smirk or grin playing at his lips. upon seeing that you’re conscious, the tension in boothill’s forehead lessens. “there she is.”
his voice is soft, like if he speaks too loud he’ll break you. though it’s unlike him to be so mindful, you appreciate what you imagine is the temporary change. he opens his mouth to continue but before he can get another word out, the border collie, missy, nudges between the two of you as if she senses something is wrong. boothill shoos her away before turning his attention back to you. “you okay? what happened?”
you think back on the moments that led to this—you laid out on your back in the grass. “missy… i think she scared clover. she threw me off.”
that’s right, you have no idea where she went after being so startled or if she’s okay, at that.
“where is clover?” you dart up into a sitting position, palms against the grass. it’s a bad idea and you face the consequences of it immediately, head throbbing and the dull pain throughout your limbs becoming all the more noticeable. you suck in a sharp breath in response to the discomfort but realize that the pain you’re in doesn’t top your concern for the horse. “is she still around here? i need to go find her.”
“woah, woah, woah, hold your horses.” boothill frowns. he stands up and holds both of his hands out to help you do the same. for once, you don’t think about the underlying meaning of having your hands touch his, you just grab a hold and let him pull you up. you turn your head in every direction you can in search of clover, readying to pick any of them to start walking in. though, you can’t, not with the way boothill is holding your hands hostage. his gray eyes bore into yours. “you aren’t going anywhere but to the hospital.”
“what? no.” you shake your head and try to pull away but boothill doesn’t budge. the longer he holds onto you, the more aware you become of his touch—how warm his hands are and how, even though they’re rough and calloused, his palms are more comforting than you care to admit. “i don’t need a hospital. i’m fine.”
“listen darlin’, people who have just been thrown off horses ain’t known for their good judgment.” he squeezes your hands but then seems to think better of it, loosening his grip but continuing to hold them. he gets his message across though, with the hand squeeze and the almost desperate look in his eyes. you’ve never seen him so uneasy, heard him speak so seriously. his new demeanor has your feet glued to their spot on the ground and your gaze glued to his. “you’re going to the hospital.”
you’re rarely one to jump at the opportunity to agree with boothill but maybe he’s right. you’re running on adrenaline right now and your mind isn’t in the best place—you’re worried about the wrong things. and if the topic is important enough to have boothill practically pleading with you, you should take it just as seriously as he is.
“fine, i’ll go, but you need to find clover before we do.” that came off a little more demanding than you meant it to. you add, “please.”
he clicks his tongue and groans before telling you, “alright, i’ll find your damn horse.”
● ● ●
boothill is a man of his word and tracks down clover, putting her back in the stable before whisking you away to the hospital. the ride there feels like a visit to the doctor itself with the way the farmhand practically interrogates you about your symptoms. he’s concerned but can’t help but laugh when you tell him that he’s exacerbating any head trauma you may have sustained by making you think so hard.
despite your initial resistance to boothill’s insistence on going to the hospital, you’re thankful for his urging. turns out he was right to be worried—you got a concussion.
your helmet helped soften the blow but the physician who explained your diagnosis still recommended a few days off work to rest and recover. it’s not the best news to receive but considering things could have been much worse, you’re grateful to walk away with a relatively minor injury.
and if your doctor had any anxiety about you ignoring his advice, it was misplaced. because boothill has personally made it his responsibility to be sure you get better.
as soon as the two of you arrived back at the house, he steered you into the living room, sat you on the couch, and disappeared into the kitchen with a demand for you to stay put. you’re tempted to argue but your head hurts too much so you cross your arms instead, closing your eyes and resting your head on the couch cushion.
it doesn’t take long for him to return and his hands are full when he does—a glass of water in one, an orange precariously rolling on a plate in the other, and a bottle of pain medication tucked under one of his arms. he sets the drink and pills on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside you, the dip in the cushion enough to make you open your eyes.
upon grabbing your attention, boothill jerks his head in that direction. “take a couple of those.”
you sit up and unscrew the bottle, shaking out two of the pills and popping them in your mouth before taking a few sips of the water he grabbed for you. a beat of silence passes before you speak up. “you know, i could have done all this myself.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he tells you with a grin, hands busy peeling the skin from the orange. it’s still all in one piece. impressive, you think, but you aren’t surprised. it seems like boothill is good at everything he does. “just thought you might enjoy having me at your beck and call.”
you frown. what does he think you are? some princess who needs a servant? “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothin’, darlin’.” he slides the plate of peeled orange slices across the coffee table so you can eat them when you’re ready. he wipes his hands on his jeans before standing up and stuffing them in his pockets.
the farmhand is on his way to the door when he says, “i’m off, but holler for me if you need anything, sweetheart.” 
you never thought you’d see the day you would stop boothill from leaving.
“wait, before you go…” he stops and turns around, eyebrows slightly raised in silent question, urging you to go on. you had more courage to say what was on your mind when he wasn’t looking at you. though, you know it’s only right to let him know that you appreciate all he’s done for you today. so, you turn your gaze to the floor and let it spill out. “thank you for finding clover. and for taking me to the hospital. and for this.” you gesture to the fruit.
there’s a flash of sincerity that passes over his features before that annoying smile makes its way back to his lips. “so you can say thank you.”
you don’t know what kind of response you were expecting, but you should have seen this coming. it’s like he’s hardwired to tease you, even when you’re being genuine. “you can leave now, boothill.”
“yeah, yeah, i’ll get out of your hair.” in contradiction to his words, he stays put. and you can’t find it in you to be upset that he does because the humor has left his face, replaced by earnestness. “but you’re welcome, doll. it was really no trouble.”
he finally takes his leave and when you hear the door close, you let out a frustrated groan and lay your head back on the cushion. that nasty fall must have done more damage than you thought. why else would your heart be working overtime over a simple change of expression?
you shake your head to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts—thoughts of how generous and caring he actually might be—before you think better of the motion. it hurts your head and makes you wonder how long it’ll take before the pain pills kick in. they’ll probably work better if you have something on your stomach.
your eyes fall to the plate boothill left for you.
orange slices should do.
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thank u for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are appreciated -`♡´-
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riddlesb1tch · 12 hours
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Nature's A Bitch
Azriel x reader
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summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.
warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)
~●○°●○°●○~
You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep. 
It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed. 
This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.
Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up. 
By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.
The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room.  His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit. 
“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”
You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you. 
When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit. 
You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers. 
“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you. 
He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion. 
You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now. 
“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep. 
Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed. 
You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him. 
He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber. 
~●○°●○°●○~
You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery. 
Afterwards, you headed out to eat something. 
Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.
“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning. 
“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.  
You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.
“Where’s Az?” you asked. 
“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding. 
Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him. 
You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room. 
You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head. 
“Azriel?” you called into the darkness. 
Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on. 
Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch. 
That was weird. He’d never done that before. 
Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge. 
“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked. 
Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him. 
“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” 
“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?” 
“About me,” he sniffled. 
Your heart audibly cracked. 
“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.” 
He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily. 
Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-
Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you. 
“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage. 
“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned. 
“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.” 
“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!” 
The pain in his voice killed you. 
“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.” 
As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek. 
“Oh Az,” you sighed. 
“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation. 
“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him. 
Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.” 
You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master. 
“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him. 
“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.
tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites
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strlvvr · 2 days
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my best friend's brother (is the one for me) - matt sturniolo x reader
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where y/n has had a crush on her best friend nick’s brother for years
word count: 1.1k words
“i’m not setting you up with my brother.” nick said as he was unlocking the door to his house.
“oh come onnnn,” i whined walking into the house behind him, “he’s so fine though.”
“i’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that actually.” he laughed as matt came out of his room. i stopped for a second or two staring at him. i took in what he was wearing, grey fresh love sweatpants and a tight tank top. his hair all over the place, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"what did she say?" he questioned with tiredness in his voice. "nothing, nothing." i quickly replied eyeing nick not to say anything to his brother.
"you do know it's two p.m. right?" nick asked matt seeing the boy still in pajamas and obviously tired. 
"and? can't a man sleep in?" he said sarcastically. i couldn't help but laugh as i put the snacks me and nick had just bought in the fridge. "why are you laughing miss ‘sleep until four p.m.’? you can't be saying anything here." matt eyed me making me stop laughing as soon as he spoke.
"hey now, i haven't done that in months. didn't you just do that, let me see, yesterday?" i retorted watching him roll his eyes at my comment. 
i've been friends with the triplets since high school and moved out to l.a. around the same time as them. we became closer with the move, all of us looking for houses and making sure whatever houses we found weren't too far from each other.
i've had a crush on matt since we first met. only recently have i realized it's way more than a crush. i find myself craving him and his presence. we've always had more of a flirty friendship, which didn't help any of my feelings towards him. his nicknames for me bordering pet names, sweetheart, princess, baby.
“whatever you say, princess.” 
“of course we can get food, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to not live by you, baby.”
of course i never believed he ever meant anything by it, but they still made my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat. the way he said it so casually but yet so lovingly never failed to have me in my head wondering if he really meant what he said.
"what'd you guys get me?" chris asked the second he walked up and saw the bags, no "how are you guys" or "how was the trip".
"nothing. you said you didn't want anything. all four times we asked you." nick said after grabbing one of the drinks we had just bought. i grabbed the pepsi i knew he wanted, along with some of his usual snacks and threw them to him.
"see at least y/n loves me." chris said to nick and then stuck his tongue out at him.
"did you get me anything?" matt asked walking over to me, not stopping til he was right behind me. my breath hitched as he put his hand on my waist.
"yeah, a root beer and the food you texted me about." i replied as calmly as i could, secretly hoping he wouldn't leave his spot to grab them. 
"thank you, baby." he whispered into my ear before he pulled away to go find everything, his hand trailing my lower back as he walked away.
he knew what he was doing. there was no way he didn't. i know he feels the way my body shifts into him, the way my breathing gets heavier, the effect only he seems to have on me.
“what are we watching tonight?” i asked while walking over to put my drink on the coffee table, and then grabbing my blanket from the basket. 
“what about retribution?” matt suggested sitting in his usual spot on the couch next to me.
“you only wanna watch that for liam neeson.” i told him, grabbing the remote to put on something that wasn’t a liam neeson movie.
“yeah, but he’s just so good.” matt emphasized, moving his arms around trying to make a point.
“what about the crow?” i asked everyone, only to be met with groans from everyone.
“yeah for the thousandth time? no thanks.” chris said, rolling his eyes and throwing popcorn at me. 
“yeah and it’s my turn to choose a movie tonight so i don’t see the problem here..” i told him while going to amazon prime and searching up the movie. 
as the movie got to my favorite scene, i moved closer to matt to lay on his shoulder. as i was moving he pulled his arm up for me to be closer. as the movie got more gruesome, i felt him hiding in my hair so he didn’t have to watch.
“something funny?” matt asked once he felt me laughing.
“yeah, you. you do this every time at this exact part too.” i looked up at him still laughing a bit, only to find him already looking at me. i put my head back down onto his chest to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks, directing my attention back to my favorite movie.
“i don’t know why you like this movie so much, it’s weird.” nick complained, obviously intrigued in the movie though. 
i roll my eyes, “is that why you’re still watching?”
as the movie went on and i got more tired, i moved down into matt’s lap and put my feet up on the couch. once i was comfortable, i felt matt start to shift around underneath me. 
“can you stop moving around, you’re bothering me.” i almost yelled at him, while trying to stay comfortable.
“sorry sweetheart.” he said, moving his hand to my hair, slightly massaging my head. after a couple minutes of that, i was starting to fall asleep. i woke up to him adjusting himself, yet again. this time he got up and started walking towards the bathroom. 
“where are you going?” i whined, missing the comfort of him.
“nowhere, just the bathroom.” he said quietly, before rushing off to the bathroom. i moved into his spot, trying to keep what was left of the warmth before he got up. i squint my eyes in confusion, wondering why he rushed off so quickly. but i decided to ignore it and got up and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. i heard something behind me when i closed the fridge, i turned and saw a disheveled matt behind me. 
“you okay?” i questioned once i took in the sight in front of me.
“all good, sweetheart.” he answered, with a familiar look in his eye that made my knees weak. 
“you wanna grab me another drink while we’re here?” he asked, still staring at me.“oh yeah, sure,” i turn back to the fridge to grab whatever was in there for him. as i handed it to him i couldn’t help but watch him take the can, the way his fingers wrapped around it had my mind going places it shouldn’t be going.
especially not about my best friend’s brother.
tag list:
@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 14 hours
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Trapped (Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig)
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Description: Y/N is in love with Patrick but when she thinks that he doesn’t like her back she starts hooking up with Art who is in love with. When Patrick tells Art he likes Y/N without knowing Art and her were hooking up, Art will stop at nothing to make sure they don’t end up together.
Word Count: 3,859k
Author’s note: I didn’t put the warnings because it would be a spoiler. Also I still can’t comment anything on my own posts but I appreciate all the compliments! Thank you sm!! I don’t know why I can’t comment
When Y/N first met Art Donaldson she didn’t think anything of him. He was a well known Tennis player at Stanford and was on his way to becoming big. Art was nice and caring. But Y/N had her eyes on his best friend Patrick Zweig. Patrick was a bit of a player but had her heart. He constantly flirts with her but never makes an actual move. Resulting in Y/N and Art hooking up. Art was attractive Y/N never thought otherwise and when she realized that Patrick probably wasn’t into her she fell into the arms of Art.
Someone who was into her. But it was just sex. Great sex but still sex. After they had sex Y/N would get up and leave his dorm while Art stared at the door praying that Y/N would come to her senses and realize that he was the one for her. Y/N was his best friend besides Patrick and she never mistreated him and almost gave him everything he wanted. But yet he was ungrateful. Anytime he saw Patrick and her talking and laughing he was scared that Patrick would make the ultimate move on her that would end whatever they had going on.
Y/N was at all of his games alongside Patrick cheering him on. When he won (which was almost every time) she would give him the best blowjob of his life. “So are you and Y/N…” Patrick trailed off as him and Art ate lunch together. Art looked at him and laughed. “Why? You finally into her or something?” God he hoped not. Patrick shrugged and it took everything in Art not to drop his smile. “I feel like I should have made a move on her a long time ago.” He said, Art nodded. “Yeah she’s an amazing girl.” Art said.
“Do you think she’s still into me?” Art looked at him and shrugged. “She never talks about you.” That was a lie. Y/N constantly talked about him. To her understanding there are no feelings between her and Art. “Well I guess there’s only one way to tell.” “What are you going to do?” “Talk to her later you dumbass.” Art hummed and felt sick. He almost had everything and Patrick was going to ruin it. 
Y/N gave Art a key to her room. He had a few hoodies there that she had taken from him that he told her he wanted back. She found it odd since he never cared before but gave him the key. As he entered the room he took in the scent. He loved the smell, it reminded him of her. He wasn’t sure where the hoodies were so he went over to her dresser. That’s when he saw her birth control.
He stared at it for a good few minutes before he thought about it. If he gets her pregnant she can’t go be with Patrick. She’d have to stay with him. But that was wrong and he knew it. He grabbed the pills and put them in his Tennis bag. He found the hoodies and left her room, guilt consuming him. “So we are going to have to be extra careful when we fuck because I can’t find my birth control pills and I don’t have time to get a refill so buy some condoms.” She told him as they walked back to her dorm. “Got it.” He said. “Well I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.” She said and he nodded. 
The next night they fucked for the first time without her being on the pill and to make matters worse Art poked a hole in the condom before she got there. He prayed that this worked. After he came he pulled out and quickly threw away the condom. “Art why does it feel like you came in me?” She asked. He looked at her confused. She reached her fingers down and gasped as she felt his cum leak out of her. “Art holy shit.” She sat up quick. “I don’t understand. I wore a condom.” He said. “It must have broke without either of us noticing.” She said and went to his bathroom to clean herself up. 
The next few weeks Art made sure not to do that for a while so it wasn’t so obvious what he was trying to do. One day Y/N didn’t show up to his game or class. He was concerned and went to check up on her. She was sick. She had been puking all morning and felt terrible. “I think maybe I’m just ill.” She said but how? Y/N was very healthy and never got sick. “I’ll take you to the doctors, come on.” Art was keeping Patrick updated on the situation. Patrick really wanted to talk to her but she was so busy. “Well Ms.Y/L/N you’re pregnant.” The doctor told her. Her jaw dropped and she felt tears in her eyes. She nodded and left the room to go find Art who was waiting in the waiting room.
He stood up as he saw her, “Are you okay?” She shook her head and started crying. He hugged her as she cried. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She pulled away from the hug and sighed, “I’m pregnant.” She whispered. He wanted to celebrate but knew that this wasn’t something planned by the both of them. “What?” He asked softly. She nodded. “And it’s yours.” He gave her a soft smile, “wow.” “Art we aren’t fit to be parents, we aren't even together.” She said.
“We could be.” He said and she shook her head. “We just fuck and I like Patrick.” That annoyed him but he kept it together. “Patrick doesn’t feel the same way Y/N plus you deserve better.” He told her. “How do you know?” She asked him, “He told me.” “No how do you know what I deserve?” He was speechless. He wanted to tell her that he loved her but wasn’t sure that was the right answer. “Can you just take me back?” She asked after silence. He nodded and they left. 
It was a few weeks before Art heard from her. She cried and sobbed for weeks not knowing what to do. Art felt terrible for what he did but he could never tell her. Patrick was upset that she was pregnant and it was by his best friend but he didn’t find that out from Art. He knocked on Y/N’s door worried about why he hadn’t seen her in a while. She answered the door and she looked like a mess. “Holy shit are you okay?” He asked her. She shook her head and let him in. “What happened?” He asked as he shut the door.
She sat on the bed and cried. He sat on the bed with her and pulled her into his chest letting her cry. He rubbed her back and tried calming her down. “Patrick I love you so much.” She said through tears. His eyes widened and he looked down at her. “I know you don’t feel the same way but I needed you to know that.” She said. He smiled and laughed, “are you kidding me? Of course I feel the same way.” Her heart broke. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile now.” He said and cupped her face.
At any other time she would have been so happy and smiled but she didn’t. He leaned down to kiss her but before he could she whispered his name. “I’m pregnant with Art’s baby.” He pulled away and looked shocked. “You and Art had sex?” He asked hurt. “We’ve been hooking up for awhile now but only because I didn’t think you liked me back and he confirmed that to me.” She said. “Y/N Art told me you didn’t have feelings for me.” They both look at each other and realized. Art was a shitty friend. 
Y/N banged on Art’s door. He quickly got up and opened the door. There stood a fuming Y/N who had tears streaming down her face. “Hey where have you-“ She smacked him across the face. “You asshole.” She yelled. He was taken back by her sudden anger towards him. “You told both me and Patrick that we didn’t like each other when we did.” She yelled. “You talked to Patrick?” He asked annoyed.
“Is that all you heard? How about the fact that you’re a shitty friend?” She screamed. He looked down at her words, she was right. “Why the fuck would you lie?” She asked. He didn’t say anything and kept looking down. She pulled his chin so that they were making eye contact. “Answer me.” She yelled. “Because I love you!” He yelled back. “And I want to be with you but you want him and he doesn’t deserve you.” He yelled.
“Art, it’s not your place to say whether or not he deserves me.” She tells him. “I know but I can’t, I can’t live without you Y/N. When you told me you were pregnant I was so happy because I thought that finally we could have a shot but no matter what I see now that you will always choose him.” He had tears streaming down his face. Her eyes softened. “Art.” She whispered and walked over to him. “I get it just go be with you him. Just let me see the kid.” He said. She shook her head and cupped his face. “No.” She whispered. She leaned in and kissed him. He was shocked but kissed her back. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. This was all he ever wanted and he got it. 
Y/N finished her first years of college before dropping out. Art stayed in college and managed to become a pro in Tennis. They got a house together near campus so he could still go while she stayed at home. He worried for her and never wanted to leave her alone. Patrick and him were no longer friends. Art got Tashi Duncan as his coach who also helped Y/N. She never judged Y/N for getting pregnant at 19 unlike her family. She made it so Art could continue school and not have to worry. 
Y/N was about ready to pop any second it seemed. Her due date was near so she and Art got everything ready for when the time was to come. It would be in the middle of the night that Y/N woke up screaming in pain. Art freaked out but took her to the hospital and called Tashi. Tashi was there at the hospital as Y/N got ready to push. Art held her hand as she screamed and cried as she pushed out his baby for dear life. Art looked as he heard the baby cry and saw her. He started crying seeing his beautiful baby girl. Tashi smiled as she saw the baby and congratulated the two. 
Playing Tennis and raising a baby was hard but they managed to do it. They both always talked about how she was gonna love Tennis and want to play. She looked just like Art but was a mommy’s girl. 
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” “Yes Babe Tashi is with her, she'll be fine.” Art assured her. She smiled as they walked down the beach that her Art and Patrick used to walk down all those years ago. Their daughter was almost 2 now and everything was perfect. Well almost. Art had a ring in his pocket that he kept playing with out of nerves. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked him as she noticed how nervous he looked. He smiled and shook his head, “I’m perfect.” She smiled but Art stopped walking.
Y/N turned to him confused. “Y/N, I love you so much more than anything on this planet. I couldn’t imagine a life without you or Y/D/N.” He got down on one knee. Y/N covered her mouth with her hand as tears formed in her eyes. “Will you marry me?” He asked. She nodded and smiled, “Yes Art.” She said and pulled him up for a kiss. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away to put the ring on her finger. 
The wedding wasn’t anything crazy just a simple one with close friends and family. Their daughter was the flower girl and Tashi was her maid of honor. Y/N sighed as she stood staring in the mirror as she got her wedding dress on. She looked beautiful. “Are you nervous?” Tashi asked. Y/N looked at her and shook her head, “Nope. I’m so excited and happy.” She said and it was the truth.
She knew that her and Art were meant to be. She had no fear or cold feet. Art stood in the mirror at the same time as her except he was nervous. Y/N hadn’t seen him without his curls as he just got his haircut today. He tried to push in the back of his head what he did years ago. He sighed and stepped away from the mirror. 
Y/N’s father walked her down the aisle. She sighed and looked around at everyone in the chairs staring at her, some in awe. She looked at Art and gasped. He cut his hair. He looked really good. They smiled at each other and what felt like eternity she was finally down the aisle. She faced Art and they both stared at each other in awe. I like your hair, she mouthed to him.
He smiled and thanked her as the priest talked. The phrase “you may now kiss the bride.” Couldn’t come fast enough but when it did. They both laughed in relief and kissed. They sealed their love with a kiss and the crowd cheered. 
Art wasn’t at his best and Tashi couldn’t stop giving him shit for it. She had put him in a challenger claiming that he needed his confidence back. “She says I’m not confident enough.” Art told his wife as they got in bed. She turned to him, “Is she wrong?” He shook his head, “I don’t know.” “From what I know you’re one of the best.” She said and winked at him. He laughed and pulled her on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him. 
“Patrick Zweig is here?” He asked in anger. Tashi nodded and looked over at Y/N who didn’t look upset at all. “Yes but you can beat him.” Tashi told him. Could he though? Y/N never was sure about that but maybe all this anger he had towards Patrick would help or would it distract him? 
“I feel like she planned this.” Art said as they walked into the hotel. “Doubt it babe it’s just coincidence.” She said. It was also a coincidence that Patrick was at the same hotel at the bar. Luckily Art didn’t notice but Y/N did. “I’ll meet you back in the room I’m going to meet up with Tashi.” She told him. He kissed her and entered the elevator. Patrick didn’t see her but she walked up to him. “Patrick?” He turned around and his jaw dropped.
“Y/N.” He exclaimed and hugged her, she giggled and hugged him back. “You look amazing.” He told her. “You do too.” He did oh god he did. He looked sexy. They stared at each other for a while, no words exchanged. Patrick saw the wedding ring on her finger. “So you married him?” He asked trying to hide the disappointment. She nodded, “yeah I did.” “How’s he doing?” “Good.” He nodded. “I don’t have a lot of time Pat but I just wanted to say Hi.”
“I’m glad you did.” She walked away but he called her name again. She turned to face him, “Do you ever think about what would have happened if you never got pregnant?” She didn’t answer him she just looked down. “Goodnight Patrick.” She said and walked away. 
She stared at the ceiling wide awake as Art slept next to her. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Patrick. His question. Of course she thought about it. How could she not? It was sick to say but that was the only reason she gave Art a chance. She doesn’t regret it though but of course the what if? Crossed her mind. 
She cheered as Art won over and over again leading up to the finales. Tashi may have been hard on him but it paid off. Y/N hadn’t seen Patrick since that night. She wondered how he was doing, she never got to ask. She didn’t tell Art that she saw him let alone talked to him. That would make him more mad than he already was. It was the final game before the finals. It looked like him and Patrick would be facing off.
“Hey Art forgot his bag can you go grab it for him?” Tashi asked. She nodded and walked off to the locker room. She went to his locker and grabbed the bag. She smiled as she saw it was the one from college. She swung it over her shoulder but heard what sounded like pills? She put the bag down and looked in the bag for what that noise could possible be. She shuffled the bag again and opened the front pocket. She pulled out pills. She was confused until she realized that they were birth control pills. WTF? She thought.
She gasped when she realized that they were the ones she lost. Why did Art have them? She never took them around him. She shook her head and put them in her pocket and took the bag to Art. “Hey I’ll be right back.” She tells him and she walks away. She takes the pills out of her pocket trying to figure out why he had them. She sat on the grass and thought really hard. She gasped as she remembered how Art hated the fact that she and Patrick liked each other. He lied to both of them about the other's feelings.
Y/N remembered the time he asked for her keys and after that day she couldn’t find the pills. Art took them. She felt sick as she realized. Tears were streaming down her face as she realized that Art planned her getting pregnant. She got up and put the pills back in her pocket. “Hey.” She looked up and saw Patrick. “Hi.” He could see her teary eyes and walked up to her. “Are you okay?” He asked her. “Can you pick me up at midnight?” She ignored his question. “Sure…but are you okay?” He asked her, “we will talk about it.” She tells him and walks away. 
Art had won and was in the finals with Patrick. She hide her sickness towards him and congratulated him. Art hadn’t suspected a thing thankfully. 
“Promise me that if I lose tomorrow it won’t matter.” Art stood in the bathroom doorway. She looked at him confused. “What?” “If I lose tomorrow, promise me that it’ll be okay. We will be okay.” She stared at him, “Why wouldn’t be?” “Baby please.” “Yes Art everything will be okay. I don’t care what the outcome is tomorrow I will love you no matter what.” She tells him and unfortunately that was the truth. She’s grown to love him and even though what he did was awful she still did love him. 
Patrick smiled as he saw Y/N run to his car. She got in the passenger seat. “Drive.” He pulled away from the hotel and drove off. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He asked. “Pull over first.” She told him. He turned into an empty parking lot and parked. He turned towards her. She looked at him and handed him the pill bottle. He looked at it, “birth control pills? Why are you giving me these?” He asked her.
“I was taking those all through high school and college and never once missed a beat.” She tells him. “Okay?” She sighed, “Remember when I got pregnant?” He nodded. “Art took those from me so it would happen.” Patrick’s jaw dropped, “what? Are you sure?” She nodded. “I found those in his Tennis bag he had from college, he brought it with him and I never took those in front of him. One night I give him my key so he can take back his hoodies and after that I couldn’t find them.” “He hated that we liked each other.” Patrick said, “he lied about it Patrick.
He wanted this. Hell when I went to his room to confront him he guilt tripped me. I wasn’t going to be with him just cuz he got me pregnant. I loved you.” She exclaimed. “Y/N?” She looked at him, “do you still have feelings for me?” 
Patrick looked over at Y/N as he bounced the ball. Y/N kept a straight face as he bounced the ball a few times. Art watched as Patrick put the ball to the center of the racket. Art’s face dropped and he looked at Y/N. She wasn’t even looking at him. He looked at Patrick who nodded and smirked. “Fuck off.” He yelled. Patrick hit the ball and Art didn’t hit it back. Y/N held back tears as she watched Art’s world crumble. Why did she feel bad for him? 
Y/N hugged Patrick after they both came down from their highs. He inhaled her sweet scent. “I’ve dreamt about doing that.” He said in her neck. “In your stinky car?” She joked. He chuckled, “not exactly but it works.” He said and pulled away from her neck. She kissed him and it wasn’t full of lust. No it wasn’t something else. Love? He kissed back. 
They played Tennis like they hadn’t played Tennis before. And it was a great scene. Art was definitely angered but felt like it was deserved. Patrick was on top of the world that he got to sleep with Y/N. It was a crazy thing when at first it wasn’t clear who won. 
Y/N laid on Patrick’s chest as they laughed. “So you and Art had a secret way of telling each other when you fucked someone?” She asked. He nodded, “Yup. I almost wanna do it tomorrow.” “Will he know it’s about me?” “He should.” “Do it then.” Patrick looked down at her, shocked. “Really?” She nodded and looked up at him. “But I still love him.” She said softly and Patrick nodded. 
Art entered the hotel room with Y/N walking behind him. “So Patrick and you?” He asked. She nodded, “Why?” She took out the pills and gave them to him. His face turned more white than it already was. “How did you find these?” He asked her. “Your tennis bag is the same one from college.” She told him. “You hate me now don’t you?” He asked softly. She shook her head, “ No. I should but I don’t.” He looked up at her with relief. “You’re a piece of shit Art.” She tells him and his face drops. “But I’m willing to forgive you if we can add Patrick into our relationship. I’m not an idiot, I know you two had a thing for each other.”
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worldofkuro · 2 days
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XXIII
<- Previous Chapter I
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, folks. This is the end of Painted Smile season I. I think this is a good way to end the first arc. No worry, Season II is already on it's way, nothing is going to change. I'm still going to post as randomly as I'm doing right now! But please, enjoy today chapter, I liked it.
You were singing in the car with the biggest smile you had on your face. Alastor was behind the wheel, smiling, humming the same tune as your voice. 
You were the next day after your wedding’s night. It has been fantastic. Whenever you were watching there were smiles and laughter. You saw most of the guests having a hangover the morning before you left with Alastor for your honeymoon. 
Alastor didn’t tell you where you were going but from the changing weather you knew you were going south, surely toward the beach. He was holding one of your hands on his lap. Since you have been married, you couldn’t stay away from each other, you wondered how it was going to be once your soul would be bond. 
You fell asleep in the car, waking up when Alastor kissed your lips. You blinked slowly before smiling at him. He stroked your cheeks before going to take the luggages. You got out of the car and looked around with a big smile, you could feel the sun and hear the sounds of the waves not too far.
You watched at the little house in front of you and saw a grandma coming out with a big smile.
“ You must be Mr and Mrs Sanglar, nice to meet you, I'm Paulette.”
“ Nice to meet you,” you shook her hands,” my husband was the one with whom you discussed, I guess..?”
“ Oh, yes! The gentleman rented this lovely house for four days! You are near the beach, not too far away from the city, there are beautiful landscapes to be seen!”
You felt Alastor’s hand on your waist as he shook the old lady's hand with his charming smile.
“ Exactly, nice to meet you, I’m Alastor Sanglar. I came here two weeks ago so everything would be perfect once I brought my wife. I believe I made the right choice when choosing you, right?” asked Alastor, looking at Paulette.
“ Of course! Here the keys, put them on the mailbox when you leave! Have a lovely time here, you are such a lovely couple!” said Paulette as she hung the keys to Alastor.
You waved her goodbye as she left. You turned toward Alastor with a beaming smile.
“ You took me to the beach?” you asked with glee as he nodded. You jumped on his arms as he laughed, spinning you around. You always wanted to go to the beach, feeling the sand under your feet, watching the sun’s reflection on the waves, oh you couldn’t wait! 
Once Alastor put you down, you ran toward the house. It was cozy, not really your kind of decoration but who cared, you weren’t going to stay much inside if not for sleeping. You looked at Alastor who put your luggages on the floor, smirking at you.
“ What do you want to do first?” He crossed his arms on his chest, looking patiently at you as you thought out loud about all the possibilities. You moved your hands toward the luggages and telekinesied them toward the bedroom.
“ I want to see the city ! No, the beach!” you clapped your hands as your eyes returned to their usual color. He smiled before stretching his hand toward you which you immediately took before leaving the house.
You let Alastor guide you and you smiled even more when you saw the beach. It really was close to the house Alastor rented. You took off your shoes, Alastor already holding them for you. You touched the hot sand with your bare feet. The feeling was strange but grounding. You made a few steps before looking at Alastor with a big smile.
“ Come with me !”
You walked toward the water, and stopped in front of the ocean. You weren’t afraid of the water but knowing you didn’t know how to swim, seeing such a large amount of water kind of made you uncomfortable. 
You felt Alastor behind you, hugging you from behind. You touched his arms while staring at the water, yelping when you felt the water touching your toes.
“ Come on my love, are you still afraid of water after all we have done together ?” he mocked you as he spinned you around.
“ I’m not afraid!” 
“ And I’m not married to you. There, now we are both liars.” he smirked at you.
You stuck your tongue to him before looking at the ocean. You didn’t have a lot of good experience with water, you almost drowned two times. You were afraid of dying after finally obtaining happiness.
You flinched when you felt Alastor pinched your waist and before you could scold him he gave you a beautiful seashell. It looked like a rainbow had been painted over it. You carefully took the gift and immediately tried to look for another one, you wanted to give one to Alastor.
You both walked on the beach, taking seashells you found pretty or funny. You watched as the sun was beginning to get down on the sky, the light reflecting on Alastor. He looked divine.
You smiled softly before smirking. He was your husband but also your special person which meant you could be a brat if needed. You carefully took a fistfull of sand as he was looking at seashells. 
“ Dear husband ?”
“ Dear wife?” he said, still not looking at you.
You smirked as you walked toward him. You saw his shadow looking at you, tilting his head. You made a sign for him to stay silent. You saw it grinning before throwing the sand at Alastor who took a step back.
“ Oh, are we already playing?” he said as he slowly lifted his head, looking at you.
“ Don’t we always?” you grinned before taking off. You laughed as you heard him running after you. It was a little difficult as you weren’t used to running on sand but a few seconds after you screamed as Alastor tackled you on the floor. You laughed as he tickled you with a mocking smile. “ It’s because you forget rule number one!” you shouted as you trashed underneath him.
“ Well, it seems like you forgot rule number two.” He kissed your forehead before standing up. You caught your breath as he tried to clean himself from the sand. You looked on the side, as you felt water shyly touching you with its waves.  You stood up and smiled when Alastor kissed your hand before walking back to the old lady’s home. 
“ What should I make ?”
“ You don’t touch anything, darling. Let me handle it.” He said once you entered your rented home. “ Go take a shower, you have sand all over you.”
“ Whose fault is that?” you smirked as he tilted his head, innocently. You went to take a shower and came back in the kitchen when you smelt the delicious scent. You looked as Alastor chopped down the meat with deadly precision.  You decided you wanted to tease him, today. 
You held your hand toward the knife and smirked when you saw the knife moving off Alastor’s hands, rushing toward you. Alastor turned toward you, with an annoyed smirk when he saw you.
“ I’m trying to cook, dear.”
“ I don’t see what is stopping you.” you smiled sweetly at him. He walked toward you, sliding his hand on your shoulder until he touched your hand where you were holding the knife.
“ We both know we like it more when I’m the one with the knife, right?” he smirked when he leaned toward you, taking the knife from your hand. You bit your lips as you remembered when Alastor cut you when you were in your, now soon to be, home. You let a shaky breath as you saw his pupils dilated, staring at you. “ Right?”
“ Right.”
“ Good.” he said before going back to his cooking with a satisfied smile. You pouted before turning on the radio to have music in the background. You sway to the music, singing when you know the lyrics. You approached Alastor, your hand behind your back.
“ I want to help…”
“ Well… Can you dress the table?” he pointed toward a cupboard that was too high for you to get. “ The plates are there,” he said with a smirk.
You gave him a smirk as you easily opened the cupboard with your telekinesis but frowned when you saw Alastor’s shadow trying to keep the plates inside the cupboard.
“ Come on now, bad boy, let go !” you said as you force on your power, the shadow mocking you as he kept the plates in its grapes. You heard Alastor chuckling which made you even more agitated to have those damn plates.
“ Having some trouble, darling?” he sneered at you.
“ No!” You could feel power getting stronger in your eyes but then the shadow smirked at you before letting the plate go. You gasped before crouching, avoiding the plate that flew toward you. You bit your lips as you heard the crash against the wall behind you. You lifted your head toward Alastor who was trying to suppress his laughter.
“ Well?”
You turned around and winced when you saw the plates in pieces on the floor. You pouted as Alastor took the pieces in his hands, laughing  . You stuck your tongue at the shadow which was pointing at you while laughing. You turned toward Alastor when you heard him wince and looked at the cut he made because of the broken plates.
“ Do we have bandages ?” you asked as you took his finger to see the blood pouring out the cut. It seemed like a deep cut…
“ No need, darling. It’s going to stop soon.” he smiled at you, ready to move on.
You didn’t know what happened but you licked the wounds.
You licked his blood.
You closed your eyes as your tongue moved around the cut, collecting his blood and only stopping when you couldn’t feel the cut anymore. You opened your eyes, feeling strangely aroused before looking at Alastor who was staring at you with red eyes.
Your eyes widened, taking a couple steps back before being tugged back against him.
“, I’m sorry ! I didn’t–!”
“ Well done, my love, you healed me.”
You looked at his finger and freezed when you saw his hand was as good as new. You winced when you felt a little pain on your finger and looked at your hand. Alastor and you looked as you saw your finger being cut, just like Alastor a moment before, without any weapon around. 
“ I see… You can heal me because you took the injury yourself.” he mumbled, not seeming happy with the news.
You stared at the cut and a few seconds after, the cut disappeared. You looked at Alastor with a smile.
“ I think the injury stayed on me the same time it has stayed on you. Which means, if you ever have a serious injury, I need to heal you as quickly as possible, if I don’t want to keep the injury for too long.” 
You tried to find Alastor’s eyes, he seemed to be in deep thoughts. You knew he hated the thought of you being hurt, but if you decided to have this power, it was to be useful, to be there when needed. You would still use this power, he couldn’t control you on that.
“ I see… Well, I just have to not get injured, right?” he smirked at you as he kissed the place where was the cut moment before. “ You are pretty in purple, but I like them better in red.”
You tried to find a mirror and once you did you find that your eyes had a purple hue. You did know that Baron Samedi 's colors  were black, red and purple, you didn't expect your eyes to change color. Well, it did happen in the basement…
“ Well, darling, would you please set the table?” you rolled your eyes at Alastor's cunning voice.
You ate as you both talked about everything that would pass through your head. You were talking about your new home, how you should decorate it, how were you going to go to town if Alastor was already out?
You jerked your head up when you remembered something.
“John came to our wedding.”
“ I saw. What did he want?” he said as he bit into the meat.
“ He gave me a letter.. Wait, it should be in my bag.” You stood up and walked toward the bedroom before going back to your husband with the letter. “ He said it wasn’t from him but from his parents. We used to be good friends and they loved me. I'm a little touched that they thought about me on my wedding day…” 
You sat on Alastor’s laps and opened the letter. Your eyes widened when you saw what was inside. You knew the family Felleur was healthy but you didn’t expect them to give you 1,000 dollars!
You showed Alastor who frowned when he saw it.
“ Oh my god, Alastor…!” you gleed as he took the money from you as you jumped off his laps. “ Isn’t it amazing? After all he puts us through!” you screamed in joy, jumping in the kitchen.
“ Mhn.. Well, if it was from John himself, I wouldn’t take it. But if it is from his parents and they cared for you, who am I to refuse it.” he smirked as he put back the money in the letter and gave it back to you.
You smiled happily and looked at the clock. It was almost nine.. You turned toward Alastor who was finishing his plate.
“ Let’s take a walk.” he chuckled at your words.
“ Going outside, at night, in an unknown town? Are you looking for trouble?”
“ Aren’t we the trouble?” you smirked at him.
He groaned as he tugged you toward him and kissed you feverishly, making your legs shaking. He let you go before standing up.
“ Put on your shoes, love, we are going for a walk.”
You smiled as you put your shoes on after clearing the table. You went out with Alastor, holding upon his arm. You decided to follow a trail that seemed to go away from the city, feeling adventurous, you begged Alastor to follow it.
He sighed but accepted your supplications. You smiled as you walked on the trail that was made of sand. You could still hear the waves so the ocean shouldn’t be far off. The trail began to be a slope. Once you reached the top you looked down the hills and saw the ocean, you weren’t too high but you still gulped.  You looked at the scenery that was beautiful, the stars were reflected on the water, making it seem magical.
“ Alastor–” You turned before flinching when you saw Alastor jump off the hills, falling into the water. You looked as he threw his head backward, getting rid of the water inside his ears. “ Are you crazy?” you shouted at him which made him laugh. “ Stay here, I’m going to take the trail to–”
“ Jump!”
You froze when you heard his words. You felt like you were taken back when you were eight years old and Alastor has asked you to jump off the swing. 
“ Alastor…” you bit your lips, that time when he asked you to jump, it was on the floor, not in the deep ocean, you could see Alastor wasn’t touching the bottom of the water which meant it was already too deep for you.
“ I’ll catch you.” He said it loud enough for you to hear.
You looked at him as he was watching you with a boyish smile. You already fell for Alastor on time, the second time should be easier, right? You took a deep breath and then.
You jumped.
You could feel excitement in your belly, the air slapping your face as the water was coming closer and closer. You wanted to close your eyes all the way down but they were focused on Alastor but once you saw the water too close you shut your eyes.
You felt Alastor’s arms as you hitted the water. You wrapped your arms around his body before he swam the both of you toward the surface. You gasped for air and looked around before laughing as you stared at your husband with a wide laugh.
“Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !” You looked at him with a wide smile, you did it! You actually jumped! 
You looked as Alastor hand cupped your face before kissing you. You closed your eyes as you kissed him back. You were in heaven. You were kissing him, with everything you have. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your breath began to get heavier. You leaned back with a shy smile.
He was looking at you with so much emotion, it was almost driving you crazy.
“ Let’s go back..”
—----
Next morning, you woke up in Alastor’s arms, both of you naked as the day you were born. You looked at Alastor’s sleeping face which was rare to come by. You kissed his lips before leaving the bed, taking a nightdress and began to prepare his black coffee. You flushed when you saw your reflection in the mirror.
Your neck, chest and thighs were bruised with bite marks and hickeys. You shook your head and decided to make waffles. You smiled when you heard Alastor leaving the bedroom, his footsteps coming toward you. You sighed in bliss when you felt him hug you from behind, he seemed still half asleep.
“ Why are you here…?” he asked in his deep voice.
“ I wanted to prepare breakfast.” You kissed his cheek and showed him what you prepared. He didn’t look, he just hugged you tighter. After a few minutes, he kissed your neck before leaning back and sat on the chair. You brought his coffee, looking at his face.
“ Are you alright, Alastor?”
“ I’m doing great, I was just thinking of the ritual, no worry.” he drank his coffee as you sat next to him. “ Why not go shopping today?” he asked you which you reply with a happy grin. 
You quickly took a shower and dressed up in a summer dress. You met Alastor outside the house and went to the city by foot, it was a 30 minute walk. You looked at the shop and smiled when you saw a sofa.
“ We should take it to our house, for the living room!”
“ My love, the house is big, remember? Bigger than the house we are staying at, right now. This seems a little small for the living room.”
“ What about the room that could be your office? If I remember there are three bedroom, one office room, the living room with a kitchen–”
“ Darling, I wouldn’t want this color in my office.” he grimaced as he looked at you.
“ But in the living room, yes?” you smirked.
“ … Please, no.”
You laughed as you kept walking, looking for things for your new home or for yourself. You find new clothes, a new hat for Alastor and some souvenirs for your family and friends. You ate lunch in a small restaurant that was delicious! Alastor didn’t like it much but he smiled when you said you could help him finish.
You walked back home, still full of energy! You looked at the full moon as Alastor was taking a shower. He came back to you, cleaning his glasses with a tissue.
“ Are you ready, my love?”
“ Mhn?”
“ Well, to bond yourself to me.” 
“ I have everything we need.” He said with a confident smile. He walked back toward you with a blade. “ First, I need a place to mark you, if you don’t mind, dearest, I’ll choose your heart. I already carved an ‘A’ here, but you know I’m greedy. I’ll place my runes here…”
You stood up so fast you almost lost your balance. Was today the day? You nodded and followed Alastor in the bedroom. You looked around when you saw the symbols written on papers with ink.
“ You have a rune for yourself ?” you asked him, curiously.
“ I created one, yes.” He tilted his head as you took off your dress, baring yourself at him. He walked toward you and cut you between your breasts. All you felt was pleasure, you held on his shoulder as you sighed in bliss. You could feel something sipping inside of you, it felt oh so pleasant.
“ Every time your heart beats, it is for me. This life is mine… “ He whispered against your skin. “Now,dear, unfortunately, you can’t carve  rune but you still have energy. Where do you want to place yourself on me.” he smiled at you with a teasing expression, watching you as you put your night dress on. “ My heart already belongs to you–”
“ Your forehead.”
“ Pardon?”
“ Well, we both know you always stay inside your mind for hours sometimes. I want to be the one who owns every single one of your thoughts.” You said confidently even if you could feel warmth on your cheeks. You advanced toward him, feeling power inside you. You kissed his forehead, closing your eyes. “ This twisted brain of yours will never work if my heart isn’t beating for you.”
You took a step back, looking at your husband who was staring at you with red eyes.
“ This is really cute, I don’t remember the last time I performed this curse!” you looked at Baron Samedi who was smoking his cigar.
“ Let’s finish this.” you heard Papa Legba. “ You need something that would be the material bond in the human world. “
You looked as Alastor took something of his luggages.
“ Eamon!” you shouted in surprise. 
“ Of course, dear. What is better to represent our bond than our fawn?”
“ He is a deer!”
“ Fawn. Now! Let’s begin.” he placed Eamon on the floor between the two of you. 
You felt Papa Legba energy coming inside you, you could hear your bone moves as he took place inside you. You watched as Kalfu slid inside Alastor easily. Your husband was now smiling in a humanly impossible way, his teeth yellowish. You watched as your body cut itself, letting the blood dripping on Eamon, Alastor doing the same thing.
Your mouth opened and you began to speak a language you didn't know, Alastor doing the same. You could see the symbols Alastor has written, moving in the air. They were glowing in a green light as the wind was moving the paper around you. 
You watched as Eamon began to light up in a reddish, greenish light. You hoped your deer wasn’t going to be destroyed…
You then felt a horrible pain in your chest. It was like something sharp was stabbing you, the blade always going deeper and deeper. You couldn’t move your body but the pain was real. You looked toward Alastor who seemed in pain as well. You could feel every beating of your heart, and each beating was sending knives in your veins. What was happening ? Were you dying ? 
You watched as Baron Samedi came toward you and wrote something in front of you which you didn't understand. He did the same with Alastor before stepping back.
You fell on the floor once you felt Legba leaving your body. You touched your chest, the pain was slowly going away but it hurted so much you were scared that if you moved it would come back.
“ Well, the curse is done. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, you are now bound forever and nothing can separate you, in the human and in the spirits realm.” you heard Kalfu smirked, clapping sarcastically. “ I can’t wait to see what you are going to be able to do, please, do not disappoint us.” Kalfu smirked before vanishing.
“ Both of you, be careful. With this, little lady, Alastor, see you again.” you heard Legba said before vanishing.
“ Please, enjoy what this bound has to offer!” laughed Baron Samedi before vanishing as well.
You lifted up your head and saw Alastor holding his head, his hands gripping his hair almost strong enough to tear it off. You crawled toward him and took one of his hands. You felt so tired you couldn’t talk but you needed him to know you were here for him. You were going to make it …
“ I know Darling, I just need a moment. My head is killing me.”
But this time, you were sure you didn’t speak… Well, you could try, it could be funny at best.
You blinked and touched your lips. Did you speak out loud? Sometimes you weren’t aware of it. You would just be thinking out loud and Alastor would tell you he could hear you which would make you blush.
Alastor, can you hear me?
“ Of course, you are next to me, but please, love, don’t speak so loud. My head hurts.” He groaned as he kept his hand on his head, gripping his hair while you were dumbfounded. No way… No fucking way ! You forced him to look at you, making him groan once more. “ What? Are you not okay?”
You kept his stare on you as you thought to him.
You tell me. I’m freaking out right now because I think you are hearing my thoughts.
You watched as his eyes widened, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes. Then, while you were trying to not freak out, something almost made you scream.
“ Alastor…”
You heard Alastor voice in your head saying ‘ No fucking way..’. You stood up as you stared at him, he stood up at the same time as you.
His smile widened before he rushed toward you and hugged you. He spun you around, laughing happily. You stared at him, lost but happy. He put you down and took Eamon with a smirk.
“ I don’t believe it. There aren’t a lot of archives about this spell but I sure didn’t know we could share our thoughts that way.” He put Eamon with care on the bed. “ My love, now Eamon is the material bound between us, nothing must happen to him, it could weaken what is linking us.” 
He laughed like a mad man, that should scare you but you just smiled softly, looking fondly at your husband.
“ Oh my love, curse of my sanity, I can’t wait to kill while hearing all of your thoughts!” he laughed, bending his body backwards, his hand hiding his eyes. “ I have a list of new victims, it only needs us to erase them from earth!”
You didn’t think about it, but if it meant hearing Alastor thoughts when he was killing or making love to you.. You flushed as bloodlust and lust took over you. You began to giggle as your husband kept laughing.
What a good day !
You walked toward him as he lifted you up in the air. You laughed as you both danced in the small bedroom while laughing. You stopped when you saw something.
“ Alastor…”
“ Yes?”
“ My shadow…”
He turned his head and both of you watched as your shadow was waving at you with a hideous smile, Alastor’s shadow next to it.  You tilted your head and the shadow did the same. You smiled.
Did the bond make you ‘steal’ one of Alastor's powers? You looked at your shadow, who was looking at Eamon with curiosity.  Alastor’s shadow was following yours, tugging at your shadow's hair before rushing somewhere else while your shadow was running after him.
“ Well… If you want it to go back to your shadow, just think about it.” Said Alastor, his red eyes shining with a teasing smile.
You did what he said and your shadow came back to you without a fuss, going back to normal. You looked at Alastor, your eyes as red as him. He tugged you toward him, the both of you smiling widely at each other.
“Oh this will be fun.”
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Text
Always back to you - Chp.4
Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of 3racha)
Word Count: 7000
Summary: Minho gets a call from his ex-wife, asking to meet Minjun. Hesitating, he agrees to the meeting but not without you by his side. You both find your way around each other as the boundaries between friendship and love dissolve more and more...
Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, emotional hurt!comfort, panic attack,
A/N: Thank you for all the love for the story and little Minjun so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter, some of you have been waiting for what happens here hehe🖤
PART THREE | PART FIVE (coming soon)
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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The steady rhythmic sound of a knife chopping vegetables abruptly halts as the sharp, insistent ring of Minho’s phone pierces through the quiet kitchen atmosphere. Minho's hand stills, a sense of dread creeping up his spine as he stares at the caller ID. What? 
Minho glances out of the window quickly, seeing you and Minjun still playing peacefully outside. His eyes wander back to his phone and it takes everything in him to take it into his hand, his thumb hovering over the screen. He takes a deep breath before picking up the phone. "Hello?"
"Minho, it's Yejun," comes the voice on the other end, unmistakable and unexpectedly calm. The sound of his ex-wife's voice, not heard in conversations for years, is enough to make his heart skip a beat.
"Hi, Yejun...What's up?" Minho manages to keep his voice steady, though his grip on the phone tightens.
"I’ve been thinking. It’s been a long time, and I want to meet Minjun. I want to see our son," she says.
Minho feels as if the floor dropped from beneath him. The request comes as a shock, reopening a chapter of his life he thought had been firmly closed. He leans heavily against the kitchen counter, trying to gather his thoughts. "I...that’s quite sudden. I’m not sure that’s a good idea," he replies, the discomfort clear in his voice.
"I know it’s sudden, Minho. I just want to be a part of his life," she says.
“Mhm,” he hums sourly, feeling nothing but defensiveness bubbling up in him.
“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” she asks sharply and Minho closes his eyes, swallowing down the memories that flood his brain at that tone.
“Means I wonder what makes you think you can leave and then come back once he’s old enough to do a lot on his own,” he says, chewing on his lower lip.
“It’s my right to see him, Min,” she says.
“Don’t,” Minho says firmly. “Don’t even start claiming it’s your right to meet him. You left him once he was old enough to drink from the bottle. You have absolutely no right to demand anything.”
“Gosh, Min, still so emotional, hm?” she groans and Minho puts his phone on speaker, slamming it down on the table and mocking her quietly. Her laugh rings in his ears as she starts talking again. “I want to meet him. If he doesn’t like me, I’ll go.”
“Gosh, Yejun, still taking the easy way out, hm?” he gives back dryly, bracing himself at the table. “Why now?”
“As you said, he’s easy to handle now. I’m curious,” she says.
“Curious…If you meet him, I’m there every damn second, you hear me?” he asks, and she agrees reluctantly. “If you hurt my son in any way, I’m taking him home, and that’s the last you saw of him.”
“Relax,” she snorts. “I’ll be in Seoul next week from Monday until Friday. Let’s meet up then.”
Minho agrees hesitantly, ending the call with a heavy sigh. As soon as he puts the phone down, a wave of nausea sweeps over him, his hand flying to his stomach as if to quell the rising sickness. Pacing the kitchen, he feels his mind race with worries about the past getting back at him, about the potential destruction of Minjun’s more or less stable but happy life.
You get back inside to refill Minjun’s water bottle as he quickly uses the bathroom in the meantime. You find Minho in the kitchen, his face pale, bracing himself on the table. "Minho? What’s wrong? You look sick," you ask worriedly. “You’re feeling dizzy again?”
Hearing your voice seems to ground him momentarily. He looks up at you with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. "That was Yejun," he manages to say, his voice a whisper of distress. "She wants to meet Minjun. She says she wants to be part of his life."
Your expression shifts from concern to shock. You’ve heard of her, of course, the woman who had left Minho to raise Minjun alone and caused much of his earlier heartache when you met him. "Oh, Minho," you murmur, stepping next to him. “What are you going to do?"
"I don’t know," Minho admits, his voice shaky. "Part of me thinks maybe it’s good if Minjun knows his mother. But another part...I can’t bear the thought. What if she leaves again? What if she hurts him? I can’t let Minjun go through that."
You nod, understanding his inner conflict. "This is tough, but whatever decision you make, I’m here. You’re not alone in this, Minho."
Minho looks into your eyes, finding peace in your unwavering support. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his racing heart. "Can you... Can you just hold me for a minute?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly asking for that, but somehow, it feels right.
Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Minho buries his face in your shoulder, allowing himself to feel vulnerable, to accept the comfort being offered. As they stand there, Minho feels a tiny fragment of his anxiety ebb away, the warmth and steadiness of your embrace lending him strength.
After a long moment, Minho steps back slightly. "Thank you, Y/nnie. For being here," he says, his voice thick with gratitude.
"Always," you reply, squeezing his hand.
Minho feels a little steadier, bolstered by your support. "Would you...come with me to meet her? I think I might need someone there, just in case. I uh…I don’t know how it’ll be seeing her again and everything."
"Of course, Minho. I'll be there," you reply gently.
-
The day of the meeting arrives with a tense air. Minho is quiet as you both drive to the cafe where the meeting with Yejun is scheduled. Every now and then, he glances at Minjun in the rearview mirror, who is blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, chatting excitedly about the new game you had taught him. He seemed excited to meet his mother, which was the only reason Minho decided to let them.
As you arrive and find Yejun already there, a chill runs down Minho’s spine. She looks different, yet somehow the same, and his stomach tightens as he watches her wave them over with a bright, practiced smile. Minjun gently tugs at his jeans, as always when meeting new people. He’s glad to have something to hold onto as he picks him up and soothingly pats his back. 
You stay close to them, looking at Yejun curiously. You had never felt the need to look up old pictures of Minho and her, so you had no idea what she looked like…and looking at her makes you realize she’s stunningly beautiful. Her dark, long curls frame her perfect face, skin smooth and accentuating her bright eyes. A red dress hugs her body in all the right places, and she looks delicate but elegant. God, no wonder Minho had a hard time getting over that. Getting closer, you realize Minjun must’ve inherited the freckles covering her nose, as well as the curly texture of his hair. 
"Minho, it's been too long," Yejun greets, standing to embrace him swiftly. She presses a short kiss onto his cheek that has Minho tensing up, eyes widening. Ah, lovely.
"Yejun," he nods, taking a few steps back, then turns to you. "This is Y/nnie."
"Nice to meet you," you say, offering a polite smile, though you feel the undercurrents of tension.
“And that’s..?” she asks, glancing at Minjun.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Minho mutters quietly making Minjun giggle and cover his mouth with his little hand. 
“Bad word, Daddy!” he protests, making you smirk.
“That’s some kid I stole on the way here,” Minho rolls his eyes at her. “That’s Minjun…obviously.”
“Oh…you’ve gotten big,” she nods, looking at Minjun curiously. 
“Well he was six months old when you left, go figure,” Minho says patiently, with a fake calm smile on his face. “Minjunnie, say hi to your mother.”
Minjun frowns at her softly before looking up at Minho. “Daddy? Mum who ran away?” he asks and you have trouble biting back a laugh at her perplexed face.
“Mhm, that one,” Minho nods, pulling himself out a chair. “She wants to talk to you, so be nice, buddy.”
“Okay,” he nods, getting comfortable in his own chair, blinking at her curiously. 
The conversation starts with trivialities, Yejun asking about Minjun's interests. But soon, she shifts the topic to her life in the US, describing her home, the parks, and the schools that she says would be wonderful for Minjun once he’s old enough.
Minjun listens, wide-eyed, clearly taken with the idea of such places. "Can I see them, Daddy? Can I visit her in America?" he asks, looking excitedly between Minho and Yejun.
Minho feels a pang in his heart at the words, his fear creeping back as he watches his son’s enthusiasm. He tries to keep his voice even. "We'll see, buddy. We're just talking right now."
Yejun leans forward, her tone persuasive. "I have a great life there, Minjun. You could have your own room, a big yard to play in... I'd love to show you around."
Minho feels sick watching the scene unfold, his hands clenched under the table. You notice his discomfort and place a reassuring hand on his knee. As the meeting draws to an end, Minho is quiet, lost in thought as Yejun makes plans to visit Minjun again. "Let’s take it slow, one step at a time," Minho finally says, not committing to anything more.
On the drive back, Minjun chats happily about the things his mother had told him, while Minho remains silent, his expression drawn.
Once home, Minho retreats to the kitchen, his movements sluggish, each step seeming to weigh heavily on him. You watch as he leans against the counter, his face pale and his eyes distant. Concerned, you approach him, your hand gently touching his arm. "Minho?" you call softly, trying to get his attention.
He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and there's an unspoken plea for comfort. The day had drained him, dredging up past pains and uncertainties about the future. "I just... I don't know if I did the right thing today," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if she convinces him? What if he wants to go with her?"
You understand the turmoil he's in. The possibility of Minjun wanting to leave with Yejun is his worst nightmare coming true. Stepping closer, you wrap your arms around him, offering him a silent reassurance. "Minho, you're an incredible father. Minjun knows that. Whatever Yejun says or does, it won't change the bond you two have."
Minho rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath shaky. "I hope you're right," he murmurs. "It's just hard not to feel threatened, to feel like everything we have could be disrupted by her return."
"It's understandable to feel that way," you reply, holding him tighter. "But remember, Minjun loves you. He's grown up with you. That connection, those memories, they're not easily broken or forgotten. You're his dad, the one who's been there for him every single day."
As you speak, Minho's tension begins to ease. He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for the certainty he so desperately needs. Seeing the sincerity in your gaze, a small smile begins to form on his lips. "Thank you, Y/nnie," he says. "For being here, for supporting me through this."
"Always," you reply, smiling back.
The kitchen is quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Minho seems to ponder your words, letting them sink in. Gradually, the anxious lines on his face smooth out, replaced by a more resolute expression. "I won't let her take him away," he states, more to himself than to you. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Minjun with me."
"And I'll help you," you assure him. 
As the evening sets in, you and Minho prepare dinner together, the earlier tension melting away into a comfortable routine. Minjun joins you, chatting excitedly about his day, blissfully unaware of the complex emotions his father has been grappling with. Watching Minho laugh and interact with his son, you feel a profound sense of admiration and love for him. 
Later, as you sit down to eat, the atmosphere is light, filled with Minjun’s laughter and stories. Minho looks over at you, a silent gratitude in his gaze. Despite the challenges, he knows he isn't alone. With you by his side, he feels ready to handle whatever may come.
That night, after Minjun has gone to bed, you and Minho find yourselves on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping you. Minho leans his head on your shoulder, his earlier fears now calmed by your presence and the peaceful end to the day.
"Today was hard," he admits quietly.
"It was," you agree. "But you got through it. And you’ll get through whatever else comes your way."
-
Minho stands silently in the middle of the living room, the soft hum of the evening settling around him. The faint laughter and shouts of children playing outside drifts through the open window, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him. His hands tremble slightly as he turns over a small toy that Minjun had left on the couch—a constant reminder of his responsibilities, his fears, and his deep-seated insecurities about being a father. Minjun is staying with Felix and Chan for a few hours and you'll visit to work through a few important aspects of his schedule. 
The weight of his thoughts and the relentless pressure he placed on himself were reaching a boiling point. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as each of Minjun’s innocent questions from earlier that day echoed in his head, “Are you happy, Daddy? Does Yejun like me? Can I go to America?” The questions are simple, filled with the childlike curiosity of his young son, yet to Minho, they are a reflection of his deepest fears—is he truly enough?
The anxiety that had been simmering throughout the day suddenly surges, a tidal wave crashing over him with suffocating force. His breathing becomes shallow, each inhale sharp and unsatisfying. His heart races uncontrollably, pounding against his ribs as if trying to escape. The room spins, and a nauseous feeling tightens in his gut. He's having a panic attack, the intense fear of failing his son overwhelming him completely.
Just then, you walk in. You stop in track at the sight of Minho, his face pale, his body tense and trembling. Dropping your bag, you rush over. “Minho! What’s happening?” Your voice is laced with concern as you reach out to steady him, your hands gripping his arms.
“I...I can’t breathe properly,” Minho gasps out, his voice shaky. “I feel like I’m not enough for him...like I’m going to fail him.”
You quickly lead him to the sofa, helping him to sit down. “Look at me, Minho. Follow my breathing, okay? In and out, slowly,” you instruct him gently, demonstrating deep, steady breaths.
Minho tries to mimic your breathing, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Gradually, his own breaths begin to deepen, the tight grip of fear around his chest loosening slightly with each exhale. You don't let go, your presence a calming force in the storm of his panic.
After a few minutes, as the initial wave of panic begins to subside, Minho feels exhaustion seep into his bones, replacing the adrenaline that had surged through him just moments before. He leans back against the sofa, his eyes closing briefly in fatigue.
“You’re doing great, Minho. Just keep breathing like that,” you murmur, your voice a soothing balm. “You are enough for Minjun, more than enough. You’re an incredible father.”
Tears prick at Minho’s eyes as he listens to your affirmations. “I’m scared,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “What if it’s not true? What if I’m not what he needs?”
You shift closer, your side pressing against his, a silent offer of solidarity. “Minho, look at everything you’ve done for him. He adores you. Your fear doesn’t define your reality. You are exactly what Minjun needs because you love him, and you show up every day for him, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
The sincerity in your words, the warmth of your body next to his, it all pierces through the fog of Minho’s anxiety, reaching a part of him that he kept walled off from everyone else. He turns to look at you, really look, seeing not just a friend but someone who has come to mean so much more to him.
Without thinking, driven by the emotions swirling within him and the need to be closer to the one person who seemed to understand him completely, Minho leans in. You hesitate, leaning in a little before you both stop for me a moment. Then you meet halfway, your lips touching in a kiss that is soft and hesitant at first but quickly deepened with shared urgency and emotion. But as seconds pass, the kiss deepens, driven by a mixture of long-suppressed desires and the comforting familiarity that has grown between you over countless shared moments.
All that matters is the here and now—the warmth of your lips against his, the gentle exploration that grows bolder with each passing moment. Your hands move to cup Minho’s face, your touch tender yet assured, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it is all-consuming.
Minho’s hands find their way around you, pulling you in, his heart pounding against his chest. The kiss grows more desperate, a silent confession of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Your breaths mingle, quick and shaky, as the kiss ignites a fire within you both, a blaze that seems to fill the voids you had both carried inside.
But as the intensity of your embrace grows, so does a creeping fear in the back of Minho’s mind. His heart, scarred from past hurts and losses, begins to recoil at the vulnerability he is exposing himself to. The memory of his past, of being left alone when he had dared to love openly, surges forward, casting a shadow over the warmth he feels.
Your hands trace the line of Minho's jaw, gentle yet insistent, pulling him closer. Minho responds in kind, his hands finding the small of your back, pressing you together. The kiss grows more fervent, more desperate, as if you're trying to communicate every unspoken word, every suppressed emotion through this single act. 
As your breath quickens, Minho’s emotions swirl chaotically—a blend of exhilaration and deep-seated fear. The intensity of your connection right here is something he hasn't allowed himself to fully experience for a long time, not since his heart had been guarded against such vulnerabilities.
Suddenly, the weight of his past, the memories of abandonment, and the fear of experiencing such profound loss again surge to the forefront of his mind. It is overwhelming the way these fears claw their way up, threatening to overshadow the warmth and safety he had just been reveling in.
With a sudden intake of breath, Minho’s hands still, and he pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss. His heart is racing, not just with the passion of the moment but also with a creeping dread that he might be setting himself up for another heartbreak. His chest heaves as he tries to steady his breathing, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he meets your concerned gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice choked with a mixture of fear and regret. “I... I need a moment.”
Your face is a mixture of worry and understanding. You reach out, brushing a trembling hand against Minho’s cheek. “It’s okay, Minho. We don’t have to rush anything. I’m here, okay?”
Minho nods, feeling a lump form in his throat. He is terrified, not of the kiss or the connection but of what it signifies. To let someone in so completely was to risk being torn apart again. And yet, as he looks into your eyes, he sees a reflection of something pure and steady—a commitment not just to the joy of their relationship but to the struggles, too.
Minho takes a deep breath, each inhale laced with the scent of your skin, a reminder of the now. “I just... I’m scared of losing myself, of losing Minjun, of being left alone again if this... if we don’t work out,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room.
Your expression softens, your eyes filling with empathy. “Minho, love doesn’t come with guarantees, but not giving ourselves the chance to experience it fully is a guarantee of regret. I don’t know what the future holds, but I promise to be by your side through the highs and the lows. You’re not alone anymore, and you won’t be.”
These words, gentle and reassuring, seem to stitch up the raw edges of Minho’s fears slowly. He allows himself to lean into you, feeling the solidity of your presence. “Thank you,” he murmurs, allowing himself to feel the full extent of his vulnerability.
“Thank you for not running,” you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The tension begins to dissipate, replaced by a cautious hope.
“Thank you for staying,” Minho shakes his head gently. 
You smile, your hand squeezing Minho’s. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to Minho’s forehead, a simple gesture that holds a depth of meaning.
Minho allows himself to be held, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling the steady beat of your heart against his cheek. It is comforting, grounding. Slowly, his breathing evens out, the immediate panic subsiding under the gentle rhythm of your assurances.
“You mean a lot to me, Y/nnie,” Minho confesses, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I don’t want to lose you, not because of my fears.”
You smile, your hands sliding down to grasp his. “And you won’t lose me. I care about you, Minho. We’ll face this together, okay? Step by step.”
“Okay,” Minho agrees, squeezing your hands. “Step by step.”
The moment is tender, a delicate truce between Minho’s fears and the possibilities that lie ahead. You stay like that for a while, simply holding each other, finding comfort in the presence of one another.
When it is time for you to leave, Minho finds himself not wanting to let go. The goodbye is lingering, filled with the promise of soon and more. You leave him with a smile, and Minho watches from the doorway, feeling a mixture of contentment and longing.
That night, as Minho lies in bed, Minjun peacefully asleep next to him, he thinks about the kiss - the way it had made him feel alive, the way it had scared him. He touches his lips, still feeling the ghost of your touch. The fear is still there, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind, but it is slowly being overshadowed by a stronger, more insistent feeling: hope.
He knows the road ahead will be fraught with challenges, but for the first time in a long while, Minho feels ready to face them. With you by his side, he isn't just facing the future; he is stepping into it, one kiss, one conversation, one promise at a time.
-
Minho nervously ties Minjun’s shoelaces, hoping his attentive little boy can’t see the anxiety written all over his face. He gently takes Minjun’s small hands into his and searches his eyes. “Minjunnie?” he asks softly.
“What, Daddy?” his son asks curiously.
“Daddy loves you a lot, okay?” he asks, and Minjun nods contently. “I’m sorry I can’t always be there, I’ll try to get better.”
“It’s okay,” he says, gently patting his father’s head.
Minho giggles at him and pulls him into his lap. “I will always love you, okay? No matter what happens.”
“Always?” he asks softly, and Minho nods firmly. “Always come back?”
Minho cups his face, smiling at him encouragingly. “I’ll always come back to you, buddy.”
“Good,” he smiles brightly. “Yejun now?” he asks, and Minho nods.
“Yeah,” he says, almost feeling a little ashamed for being so relieved about Minjun not calling her his mother.
You open the door, glancing inside. “You two are ready to go?” you ask. “I’ll drop you off at the café, make sure everything’s in place at the location for the shoot, and then come back. I won’t be gone longer than ten minutes, it’s on the other side of the road.”
“Sounds good,” Minho nods, subconsciously chewing on his lower lip. He pushes himself back up and meeting your eyes, you can tell he needs a hug. 
“Come here,” you say gently, opening your arms for him. Minho laughs weakly and hugs you tightly, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. “It’ll be okay,” you tell him, earning a timid hum in return. 
“Daddy?” Minjun frowns up at you two worriedly. 
Minho leaves your warm embrace, picking him up. “I’m okay,” he assures him, his one hand finding yours. Your fingers intertwine almost naturally, and you can feel his hand tremble in yours a little. 
“Liar,” Minjun says softly, not even sounding like he’s judging him for it.
Minho chuckles weakly and searches your eyes. “Minjunnie? You really like Y/nnie, right?” he asks, watching you with a gentle smile.
“No,” he shakes his head, making your heart sink for a moment. “I love Y/nnie, Daddy.”
You both laugh softly, and you gently poke his cheek. “I love you too, Minjunnie…and I care a lot about your Daddy too.”
“I…I love Y/nnie too,” Minho says quietly, and your world stops turning for a few seconds. 
“What?” you ask just as quietly, swallowing hard as tears brim Minho’s soft chocolate eyes. 
“I love you, Y/nnie,” he tells you again, a little less shaky this time. “I do,” he says as if he has to reassure you both he put it into words.
“I love you too, Minho,” you whisper happily, your heart warming. Minho squeezes your hand, searching your eyes timidly. You don’t think much, closing the distance between you two and kissing him softly. Minho sighs quietly, feeling at ease here in the moment of kissing you.
Minjun squeals making you break apart again. “Eww, but yay,” he says with wide eyes, making you giggle.
“Okay, let's go,” you laugh and gently shove Minho out of the room. 
You drive them to the café and Minho shares another quick kiss with you before getting out. You quickly cross the street to check the set, hoping it won't take long. 
-
The tension in the air is thick as Yejun sits across from Minho at a small, brightly lit café in the heart of Seoul. The noise of the bustling city outside does little to fill the silence that hangs between them. Minho watches her observantly as she tries to talk to Minjun, who’s busy coloring in the book she gifted him earlier.
"Minjun, you would love it in America," Yejun begins, her voice infused with excitement. "We have huge parks, and there are so many fun things you can do. There's Disneyland, with all the rides and characters you love."
Minjun's eyes light up at the mention of Disneyland, but his smile falters as he glances sideways at Minho, who sits silently, his expression unreadable. "Can Daddy come with us?" Minjun asks innocently, his voice tinged with hope.
Yejun’s smile tightens slightly. "No, it would just be you and me. But think of all the adventures we’ll have!"
Minjun’s face falls. "But I want Daddy...and Y/nnie," he ads, his small voice growing firmer. "I want them."
Yejun’s patience began to crumble. "Minjun, I’m your mother. I have a wonderful life set up for us in America. You need to think about what I’m offering you."
Minho, who has been quietly observing the exchange, sees the confusion and distress growing on Minjun’s face. "Yejun, that's enough," he interjects calmly. "You’re overwhelming him. He’s only a child."
Yejun turns her gaze to Minho, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You have no right to keep him from me, Minho! You’ve turned him against me, huh? You stole my son!"
The accusation stings, and Minho’s voice grows stern. "Yejun, I haven’t stolen anyone. I’ve been here for Minjun every single day since he was born. He’s my son too, and I have been his only parent for years."
“Well, I’m his mother and-”
Tears well up in Minjun's eyes as the tension rises. He can tell his father is upset and trying not to show it, he may be young but he knows him well. The woman opposite him glares at him and he doesn’t like that at all. "You're not my mum, Y/nnie is!" he cries out, the emotional toll of the conversation beginning to show. "Y/nnie plays with me. Y/nnie makes me food. Y/nnie cuddles me!"
Yejun blinks, her face contorted with a mix of shock and disgust. "Y/nnie? That babysitter? You think he's a better mother than me?”
“Yes,” he says stubbornly, staring down at his coloring book again.
“Minho, what the fuck have you done with this child?” she asks frustratedly.
Minho reaches out, taking Minjun’s hand in his, providing a comforting touch. "Y/nnie has been here for him. What Minjun is trying to say is that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about who cares for you, who’s there for you."
Yejun’s anger flares, and she stands abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "He is my son, and you’ve turned him into this...this weak, dependent child clinging to a man who has no business raising him!"
Minjun’s tears spill over, and he buries his face in Minho’s side, sobbing. Minho wraps his arms around his son protectively. "He is not weak. He’s a child, Yejun. And you’re upsetting him."
“I can’t believe you’re letting his babysitter take my role!” she protests loudly.
“That babysitter is my boyfriend,” Minho says firmly. Technically, the two of you aren't there yet but he couldn't care less right now. “So you better watch your mouth now.”
“Really? Dating a man?” she scoffs. “Did I break your heart so much you’re too scared to face another woman?” she spits out.
“What?” Minho almost chokes on his breath.
“You’re stupid,” Minjun states, pouting at her through tears. He doesn’t like how she’s talking about the two most important people in his life. “Daddy loves Y/nnie. Not you.”
“You’re coming with me now, if you like it or not!” she says firmly, reaching out for him.
"Don’t touch him," you snap, your voice icy as you move to block her path. "You need to leave, Yejun. You’re only causing him distress." You can’t believe what you got back to here.
Yejun stares at you, her anger boiling over. "He’s my son, not yours! You have no right—"
"He's not your son!" Minho interrupts firmly, standing up to face her, his voice echoing in the small space. "Not if you can’t see the damage you’re doing right now. Minjun has made his choice!"
“Not my mummy,” Minjun agrees. Still clinging to Minho, he peeks out and yells in his small, fierce voice, "Go away! I don’t want you! I want Daddy and Y/nnie!"
The raw honesty in Minjun’s voice seems to hit Yejun hard. For a moment, her resolve wavers, her features softening as she looks at her son. But the bitterness and resentment are too deep, her expression hardening once again.
“You’re disgusting,” she says toward Minho who stares at her quietly. “One day, he’ll leave you just like he left me,” she tells Minjun, who whimpers, clinging to him. 
“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her and stare her down until she storms off. “You forgot your stuff!” you call out for her and she spins around, stomping back to get it. 
“Fuck you.” With that, she turns sharply and storms out of the café, leaving behind a heavy silence. 
Minho kneels down, wiping the tears from Minjun’s cheeks. "It’s okay, buddy. She’s gone now. You’re safe," he murmurs, his voice soothing.
Minjun sniffles, nodding as he leans into Minho’s embrace. "Stay with me, Daddy. Stay with Y/nnie."
"We will, Minjun. We’re not going anywhere," Minho reassures him. “Always back to you, remember my sweet boy?”
“Yes, Daddy,” he nods bravely.
-
Back at the company Minho walks straight to Chan's studio, telling you to go and get some snacks with Minjun first. He closes the door behind himself and starts cursing as soon as it clicks shut. “I swear that woman is insane! I don't know what the fuck I saw in her but it's gone!”
Chan slowly pulls off his headphones and Jisung clicks his pen, blinking at Minho worriedly. “Mate, what happened?” Chan asks gently. 
“Yejun happened!” Minho snaps. “She just tried to pull Minjun away from me so he'd go with her! She called him a weak, clingy child for wanting to stay with me!” 
“Okay, take a deep breath,” Chan says soothingly. 
“I don't feel like taking a deep breath right now,” he says fuming with anger. 
Changbin picks up a pillow and throws it at him. “Scream into that for a moment. Let it all out. You haven't told us much but I suspect Minjun needs his father to be calm now.” Minho blinks at them stunned before doing as they say, his scream getting muffled by the pillow. “Better?”
“A little,” he nods, making them all laugh. Minho flops down onto the sofa between Changbin and Jisung, huffing softly. Then he tells them about everything that happened, all of them growing quiet, exchanging shocked glances. 
“Not to be that type of person but..I never liked her,” Jisung snorts and Minho hums agreeingly. 
“I know…but I wouldn't want to miss the time I had with her. I'd miss my little boy,” he sighs and rubs his face. 
“If she starts causing trouble you let me know, alright?” Chan asks. “Everyone of us can tell whoever needs to know that you've always been there for him and raised him well so far.”
“Thanks, hyung,” he smiles gently, looking up as the door opens and you and Minjun enter the room. Minjun runs up to everyone handing them their favorite snack and smiles proudly at the many encouragement he gets. Minho scoots over and pats the space next to himself, gently tapping your hand to make you sit. 
“Can I talk to you for a second?” you ask and Minho nods, getting up quickly. 
As soon as you leave the room Minjun climbs into Chan's lap and nibbles on his chocolate. “Exciting day?” Chan asks gently. 
“No. Yejun’s a bitch,” he announces dryly. Chan bites back a laugh and Jisung nods proudly. 
“Woah, that's a strong word,” Changbin laughs. “Did your daddy teach you that?”
“No, Y/nnie,” he tells them. 
“You like staying with your daddy more, right?” Chan asks amused. 
“And Y/nnie,” he nods happily. “Y/nnie and Daddy.”
“Yeah? Y/nnie stays with you a lot,” Jisung agrees. 
“Daddy loves Y/nnie.”
“Loves?” he asks curiously. 
Minjun nods and leans up to Chan, kissing his cheek. “They did that.”
Chan giggles, exchanging a glance with his friends. “They kissed?” he asks curiously. 
“Mhm,” he nods and continues munching his chocolate. “But not there,” he says, pointing at Chan's cheek. 
“No?” Chan asks stunned. 
“No. Like uncle Lix and you,” he announces making the whole room go silent. 
“You mean here?” Chan asks, pointing at his lips. 
“Yes,” Minjun nods. “Y/nnie is my new mum.”
“That's so cute,” Jisung whispers, smiling at him adoringly. 
The door opens and you two are back from your short talk about everything that happened. You sense something's off, judging by the way the three are glancing from Minho to you and back again. “Minjunnie, are you ready to go home?” you ask him. “Daddy has to work but he'll come later.”
“Work?” Minjun asks heartbreakingly timid. 
“I'm sorry, baby,” Minho tries, swallowing hard as Minjun climbs off Chan's lap and walks over to him, his small face scrunching up. Minho scoops him up, hugging him tightly. "I'll be back before you know it, okay? And Y/nnie will be with you," he reassures, glancing over at you with a grateful smile.
Minjun seems somewhat calmed by this, nestling his head against Minho's shoulder. "Promise?" he mumbles, his voice muffled.
"I promise, buddy," Minho affirms, pressing a kiss to his son's hair.
You can't help but feel a pang of warmth at the scene, your heart swelling at the depth of their bond. As you prepare to leave with Minjun, Minho sets him down, adjusting his little backpack and smoothing down his hair.
"Be good for Y/nnie, okay?" Minho instructs, kneeling to be eye level with Minjun.
"I will," Minjun nods solemnly, then looks up at you with those big, trusting eyes. "Let's go, Y/nnie."
As you lead Minjun out of the studio, his hand in yours, you glance back to see Minho watching you both, a mix of love and a tinge of sorrow in his eyes. It's clear how torn he feels, the duties of his work pulling him away from moments he cherishes with his son.
Back at Minho’s house, the evening unfolds with a quiet kind of normalcy. Minjun plays with his toys in the living room, occasionally chatting about things he remembers from the day or asking questions about what tomorrow might bring. You keep your answers light and reassuring, mindful of the emotional turmoil he’s endured.
Later, while Minjun is absorbed in a cartoon, you step into the kitchen to prepare a simple dinner, your thoughts wandering back to Minho. The way he had leaned into your kiss, the vulnerability he showed—it all painted a picture of a man deeply in love but equally scared of the implications. Your heart aches for him, wishing there was more you could do to ease his fears.
As you set the table, Minjun comes running into the kitchen, his earlier worries seemingly forgotten in the wake of his current excitement about the cartoon.
"Y/nnie, did you see? The superhero saved everyone!" he exclaims, his eyes sparkling.
"I saw that, buddy. It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?" you smile, lifting him onto a chair.
"Yeah! I wanna be like that," Minjun declares, his chest puffing out proudly.
"I think you're already a hero, Minjun. You know that?" you say, ruffling his hair.
He giggles, beaming up at you. "Really?"
"Really," you affirm, serving him his dinner.
Dinner passes with playful chatter, and soon it's time for Minjun's bedtime. As you tuck him into bed, he hugs his beloved bunny. 
"Daddy comes home soon?" Minjun’s voice is small, tinged with the weight of his earlier tears.
"He promised, didn’t he? And your daddy always keeps his promises," you reassure him, smoothing down the blanket. “Did you know your daddy's animal of the group is a bunny?”
Minjun nods proudly. “Yes.”
“There are plushies of his bunny, just like yours here. Would you like one?” you ask gently and Minjun nods with wide eyes. “Then you can cuddle it if he's not here.”
Minjun nods contently, curling up with the plushie. "Night, Y/nnie."
"Goodnight, Minjun. Sweet dreams," you whisper, turning off the light and leaving the door slightly ajar.
Once Minjun is asleep, you sink onto the couch, the quiet of the house settling around you. You're startled by the sound of the front door opening—Minho is home.
He looks exhausted, the lines of his face deeper, his eyes shadowed. But when he sees you, a smile, tired yet genuine, crosses his lips.
"Hey," he greets softly, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door.
"Hey," you reply, standing to meet him. "Rough day?"
"You could say that," Minho sighs, pulling you into a hug. It's a long, tight embrace, one that speaks volumes.
As you pull back, you hold his gaze. "Talk to me," you encourage.3
Minho shakes his head slightly, a weary chuckle escaping him. "Just the usual chaos. But coming back to this—coming back to you—it helps more than you might think."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the simplicity of his statement underscoring the depth of your growing bond. "I'm glad," you murmur, your hands resting on his arms.
"We didn't get much time earlier... to talk about... us," Minho hesitates, searching your face for signs of what you might be feeling.
"No, we didn’t," you agree, feeling the momentous weight of the conversation that looms between you. "But we’re here now. We can talk."
Minho nods, taking a deep breath. "I meant what I said earlier, before everything with Yejun. I love you, Y/nnie. I know it’s complicated, and I know my life is... a lot. But I want you in it, in every way."
The earnestness in his voice, the open vulnerability—he’s offering you his heart, and it’s yours to take. You smile, your decision clear. "I love you too, Minho. And I’m in this. All of it, with you," you say.
The relief that washes over Minho's face is evident. He pulls you close again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals the promise of a future together, come what may. In that moment, wrapped up in each other, the challenges that lie ahead seem manageable. With love as your anchor, you both feel ready to face whatever comes next, together.
PART THREE | PART FIVE (coming soon)
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MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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thatacotargirl · 2 days
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The Daughter of Day (1)
My third and final active fanfiction is here! This is The Daughter of Day, a series exploring a new Court and a triad, because why not!
I hope you enjoy this introductory chapter - and keep your eyes peeled for the next instalment 🌟
This story is set after A Court of Silver Flames.
My inbox remains open for oneshot/imagine requests.
A Reader x Feysand Fanfiction
🎶 "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine - you make me happy, when skies are grey - you'll never know, dear, how much I love you - please don't take, my sunshine, away" 🎶
Helion held his newborn daughter, bundled in his arms in a yellow blanket, as he swayed gently around the nursery. He had had no intentions of becoming a father anytime soon, but when the baby's mother arrived at his doorsteps, he had fallen in love on the spot - those chubby cheeks and shining round eyes that peered out at him had captured his heart and soul.
Now, he couldn't imagine life without her.
Placing his daughter into her bassinet, watching her sweet eyes grow heavy and blinking, he set her floating celestial mobile to turn and tucked her in. Stroking her cheek as he watched her slowly fall asleep, he vowed to love and protect her for always. She would want for nothing in this life, he would make sure of that.
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25 years later - Reader POV
"Y/n, are you ready?"
You can hear your father calling out to you, interrupting your reading. Grumbling, you grab your bookmark and note the page, before setting it down on the coffee table. The middle of a chapter. The worst place to stop reading.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming".
As you exit the sitting room and join your father's side, you see the look he gives you in response to your attitude. His eyebrow still raised, he stays silent as he opens the front door and gestures for you to leave the palace. You walk ahead of him and towards Xalan, your pegasus. Your father had gifted you Xalan on your 10th birthday and the pair of you were thick as thieves; much to his horror. You had Xalan wrapped around your little finger and often got yourselves into all sorts of trouble that Helion would have to rescue you both from. One time, you'd ended up in Thesan's bedroom in the middle of the night - and nearly gave the High Lord a heart attack before Helion was able to arrive and scoop you away, profusely apologising. He still apologises every time he sees Thesan for the embarrassment.
You mount Xalan and wait for your father to join with Meallan. Once you are both comfortable, he gestures for you both to take flight.
"This is a diplomatic meeting, y/n, so you have to be on your best behaviour. You are the heir to the Day Court, which means you represent the Court and me".
You don't reply. There's no need to, really. You will sit demurely and smile, speak when spoken to, and daydream otherwise of what life could offer you if you could just break free.
You had everything you could possibly want at the Day Court, your father made sure of that. But it didn't quench the desire in you to explore and see new horizons. 25 years in the confines of Day, only being able to satisfy your curiosity of Prythian by reading historical literature, was really taking its toll. You didn't mean to start acting out, but the boredom was driving you insane.
As you begin your descent into Velaris, the Night Court's City of Starlight, you can't help but notice the colours. The Sidra, the river running through the city, looked like it contained iridescent starlight. Flowers bloomed in deep blues and purples in people's front gardens. The mountain ranges in the distance seem to sparkle even in the daytime. You can hear people bustling about the streets, happy chatting and laughter fill the air.
Landing with a gentle thud before a riverfront house, you carefully guide Xalan to a stop and follow your father to a grassy sideline where the pair can graze happily. Once both pegasus' are settled, you watch your father round to the door and knock heavily.
"Helion, welcome!" comes a booming voice as the door swings wide open.
"A pleasure as always, Rhysand".
You see your father embrace the High Lord of Night as you stand behind, awkwardly. As Rhysand pulls away, he looks behind Helion to see you standing there. Helion notices Rhysand's wide eyes and turns to introduce you.
"Rhysand, this is my daughter, y/n. I thought it was time she learn the ways of the business, since she will one day take over from me after all", he laughs, guiding me to stand in front of him. Rhysand kindly takes my hand in his, shaking it gently.
"Welcome to Velaris, y/n". He smiles at you with kind eyes, which you return, before shyly pulling your hand away and tucking it behind your back.
"Helion, I had no idea you had a daughter?"
"Yes, well, I tried to keep her out of the spotlight to let her have a normal childhood; but she was getting restless in Day".
So he had noticed.
"Do come in, both of you".
Rhysand opened the door wider and moved, allowing you both passage into his home. You noticed the paintings that adorned the hallway, stopping at one in particular. It was one of your father, in the midst of the war 45 years ago, wielding his Spell-Cleaving powers with Hybern's army visibly falling in the distance. You had read about your father's role in the war, but only through reading the history books in his library. He never spoke of it, no matter how often you asked.
"Remarkable, isn't it? Feyre, my mate, painted this from a memory of your father during the war. He was a force to be reckoned with, took down nearly half the army on his own".
You turned to Rhysand with a gasp.
"Really?"
He looked at you, his face shrouded with confusion.
"He was formidable, y/n. Really, Prythian wouldn't be standing if it wasn't for him".
You turn back to gaze at the portrait, lost in thought. If your father had powers strong enough to single-handedly take down half an army, what could yours do with the right training? Helion was reluctant to let you do more than basic healing spells, worried that you would accidentally hurt yourself with your powers if left to your own devices. You could feel the power in you, strumming through your fingertips, begging to be wielded.
"Y/n?".
You turn and see your father standing in the doorway, silently beckoning for you to join him in the office. You sigh, thoughts of powers ebbing away, as you join him to discuss peace-making treaties with the mortal lands.
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After you had been introduced to the rest of the Night Court, and they had gotten over the shock of Helion's 25-year-old daughter making a sudden appearance, the meeting carried on as normal. You mind wandered often, to the streets outside of the house, to the painting of your father and the power you could feel exuding from it, and you could feel yourself getting restless.
When the meeting was finally finished and you and your father had began the flight home, you couldn't help but wonder what your life would be like if you left the nest of the Day Court. And, as you watched Xalan in flight, his wings outspread through the sky - you realised it was time to spread your own.
"Father".
"Yes, sunshine?"
"I'd like to take a trip".
"Where would you like to go, my love? We could visit the continent, if you'd like?".
"A trip on my own, dad".
You can feel your father's gaze piercing you, but you refused to look up and meet his eyes.
"On your own?"
"I'm suffocating, dad. I need to live a little. Please. Just for a few weeks, just some distance from Day, so I can learn and explore and have fun like any other 25-year-old".
"But you're not any other 25-year-old, you're heir to the Day Court. You are a target".
"Then let me go somewhere where I'm not a target, where I can be protected. Please, dad".
You can feel your eyes pricking with tears, and not from the blowing wind. Your head is still bowed, but you know your father can sense them, can sense your heartache. He remains silent for a few minutes.
"I can, perhaps, ask Rhysand if he would grant you permission to stay in Velaris for a short while".
"Please, dad. Anything".
You meet his gaze and can see the pain in his face. His heart torn between keep you safe, but keeping his promise to you to want for nothing. And, it was becoming more obvious to him now, that what you wanted was to leave.
"Ok. I hear you. I will send a request to Rhysand when we are home".
69 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 12 hours
Text
Only an Almost (XV)
Chapter 15: Aftermath
Hi! Here comes a new chapter!
We’re still dealing with a lot of angst! Sorry (not sorry)!
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2387
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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You had called a dozen times, and Andrew had refused to answer.
After a night spent at his parents’, he felt better, although he was still devastated. He reckoned he would need a long time to get over this. Over you…
His brother stopped by the next day, just to check on him, but Andrew put on a brave face and played it off. Jon was everything but fooled. He stayed for dinner and well into the night. Sam was the one dispatched the next day to keep an eye on Andrew, who was beginning to be seriously annoyed at this game of babysitting.
Sam had been trying to get a conversation going for the last twenty minutes, but Andrew wasn’t in the mood to socialize and make an effort to fight his introverted tendencies.
Besides, there was a question on the tip of his tongue he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want to be angry at his best friend…
“Have you heard about the next rugby match? They say we’re up for a proper challenge against the French!”
“Hmmm…”
Sam finally heaved an annoyed sigh, but his voice was still gentle when he spoke.
“Come on, Andy! Say something! You haven’t spoken more than three words since I’ve arrived.”
“I’ve never asked you to come in the first place.”
“I’m just trying to be supportive. And a good friend. So… talk to me. Cry on my shoulder, I don’t know…”
A heavy silence followed, while Sam stared at his friend, sitting on his comfortable couch, the crackling of a fire in the hearth and the distant chanting of birds the only sounds to disturb the silence. Andrew was staring at the pine trees on the other side of the window, how their branches swayed in the wind.
“Did you know?”
Andrew’s question came out of the blue, making Sam frown. He was still staring at nothing as his deep voice cut the air like a knife. Calm, cold, deadly so…
“When you called me the other night to tell me to speak with Y/N… did you know that she wanted to dump me to date someone else?” he went on.
Sam didn’t answer, it was only then that Andrew turned his gaze to him again.
“You knew,” he let out in a bitter chuckle.
“I didn’t,” Sam defended himself. “I didn’t, I just… She told Daphne that someone had asked her out, but we didn’t know if she had accepted to go or not. I just… we just wanted you to have a chance to tell her how you felt before she would take a decision.”
“A little late for that.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t put the blame on me, that’s unfair! You’ve known Y/N for years, you’ve been head over heels for her for so fucking long, and you’ve been sleeping with her for months! You had plenty of time to tell her…”
“And I shouldn’t have!” Andrew answered with anger shaking his voice, turning it into a booming sound that echoed through the living room. “I shouldn’t have kissed her that night, and I shouldn’t have slept with her, and I should have kept my bloody mouth shut!”
“Of course not, you were right to finally act on your feelings!”
“Was I? Look where it got me!”
He heaved a frustrated sigh, almost a groan. Damn, he wanted to tear his own lungs apart…
“Talking to her was never the problem, Sam. She doesn’t love me. My feelings aren’t reciprocated. That’s the problem.”
“She’s making a mistake…”
“Didn’t you hear me? She doesn’t feel anything for me. She doesn’t want to be with me. She only wanted a fling, I was around, and she got one. End of story.”
Sam shook his head, but didn’t know what to add.
“I’m sorry, Andy. It makes no fucking sense to me. I was certain she felt the same… it was obvious.”
“She doesn’t want to be with me. She doesn’t want to wait around while I’m gone touring. I’m not good enough…”
“Now, stop it! You’re just wallowing in self-pity and indulging in some self-deprecating bullshit! You are good enough.”
“If I were, she wouldn’t be dating someone else,” Andrew spat back, and Sam wasn’t sure how he could counter that remark.
“You should have told me the truth,” Andrew went on after a short silence. “You should have told me there was someone else.”
“We didn’t even know she had accepted that date!”
“You should have told me. I went there hoping we could be together… that we could change it all to a proper relationship. And the next second, I’m out of the goddamn picture. It’s like… like my whole world crumbled down. You… you should have told me.”
Andrew blinked tears away, averting his eyes to hide his reaction. But his voice sounded more like a croak than a composed tone. Sam nodded.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just… I’m sorry. Do you want to tell me how it went?”
“I went there. I wanted to talk, but instead we had sex. And the pillow talk that I thought was going to turn into an invitation for a proper date ended up in me running away so she wouldn’t see me cry.”
“Damn, Andy… that’s brutal.”
“Yeah…”
“I don’t understand why she acted like this. It doesn’t sound like her, it’s…”
“Cruel. Disgusting. Unfair.”
“Yeah… kind of…”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything. I haven’t understood a thing since we’ve started this.”
“Maybe she’s scared…”
“Stop. Stop trying to see something where there’s nothing at all. She wanted sex, and I was around. And I was foolish enough to think she cared. That’s all.”
Sam heaved a sigh, but nodded anyway.
“Have you talked to her since that night?”
“No.”
“Has she reached out?”
“Many times. I’m hesitating to block her number.”
“You should talk things out, though.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You ran away, you said it yourself. Perhaps… perhaps if you talked, you could understand why she did this to you. Not why she doesn’t feel the same, but… why she acted like that. Why she hurt you like that.”
Andrew weighed his friend’s words. They sounded wise, but promised a lot of pain too.
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
Sam nodded again.
“Can I do anything to make you feel less terrible?”
“Not really, no. I just… I just need to process everything that happened.”
Sam rested a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder, but he didn’t react.
“You’re a good man, Andy. I know… I know it’s hard. But… don’t let this make you feel bad about yourself, okay? It’s not your fault. And you’re a good man.”
Andrew’s gaze followed the branches swaying back and forth with the wind.
Not good enough for her to love me…
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Two weeks passed, and it was time to buy the suits for the wedding. Andrew was doing his best to smile and look the part of the perfect best man, but he was nothing but numb with pain.
You shouldn’t be there, Sam had promised that; even though the same shop was taking care of the dresses and the suits, they had different areas, to make sure that the future bride and groom would not be able to see each other. Anyway, Daphne’s appointment had begun almost two hours ago, Andrew expected that she and her bridesmaids – including you – were long gone by now.
It was a fancy place, all wooden walls and shelves of silk and wool. The style of an old, traditional tailor. The carpet was a deep shade of green and blue, leathered seats around a large room with a set of mirrors and a long wooden table at the centre. It could have been a set for some old spy movie.
If all his friends knew that something was off with him, Andrew was grateful that they didn’t insist when he answered that he didn’t want to talk about it. Sam was the only one who knew about you and him, and Andrew was set on keeping it this way.
Sam was nervous as he tried on different suits. Andrew couldn’t hide that he was entertained by it, while a tailor was taking his measurements as well. They had all agreed on some colours and models, and Andrew had answered with a polite smile to the usual joke about his height.
It was an emotional moment when Sam stood in front of a mirror, wearing the suit he would wear for his wedding. A few adjustments were necessary, there were tiny colourful pins here and there, but it was the suit. Andrew patted his shoulder with a fond smile on his lips.
“Congratulations, Sam,” he said softly, voice warm and sincere. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, mate,” his friend answered with tears in his eyes. “God… it’s really happening. I’m really going to marry the love of my life. What a lucky bastard I am, huh?”
They both laughed. Their three other friends who were there were chatting behind them, comparing a set of belts.
“A handsome fellow too,” Andrew complimented.
“Right? Not ugly enough to make Daphne run away?”
“Nah… you look sharp. Besides, she’s smitten with you… for some weird reason.”
“She must be out of her mind.”
“Without a doubt.”
Sam brushed a tear away.
“God, I’m so fucking happy…”
Andrew gave him a warm smile, an honest one, the first earnest smile he had given to anyone since that night.
“I don’t know about that thing, though…” Sam added, pointing at the blue pocket square.
He had chosen a deep shade of burgundy for his suit, while his groomsmen would be wearing brown. Andrew and Sam were to share the same shade for the pocket square though, as Andrew was his best man.
“Green could be nice,” Sam mumbled, trying to picture another colour.
“You want me to go ask for another sample?”
“Could you? That would be grand. Thanks, Andy. We should compare it to your suit too.”
Andrew merely nodded, walking out of the room in search for the tailor. He walked down a corridor, reached the hall and easily spotted the man he was looking for. He was talking with someone…
… and as he walked closer, Andrew recognised you.
Your gazes met before he could turn around and leave, and all he could do was stare with an agape mouth and a shocked expression. You froze as well, and your sudden silence made the tailor turn in Andrew’s direction.
“Can I do something for you, sir?” he asked, and Andrew forced himself to swallow so he could summon back his voice.
“Yeah… erm… sorry to bother you, we wanted to see other colours for the pocket squares, if it’s possible…”
“Of course, sir. I’ll fetch them right now.”
He added a few words to you, but Andrew had stopped listening. What the hell were you doing here? Daphne’s appointment was three hours ago…
You were so fucking beautiful… in a simple pair of blue jeans, an emerald shirt, and the sun coming in through the large shop windows. His heart was going a thousand miles a minute and he hated himself for wanting to kiss you. You had broken his heart, his soul, him… in a million pieces and his first reaction was still an urge to kiss you, and hold you, and never let go…
The tailor was gone without Andrew noticing. You took a couple of steps towards him, and he tried to walk away, but he didn’t have the strength for it.
God, he missed you so fucking much…
“Hi,” you breathed, looking quite stunned to see him there.
“Hi.”
 “How is Sam doing in there?”
“Good. Daphne?”
“Grand.”
“I thought you would be gone by now.”
He saw you clenching your jaw, noticed how this must have sounded… but he didn’t apologise for it.
“Yeah… well… Daphne and her mother are taking forever,” you joked. “And you can’t just ask a future bride to hurry, so…”
“Yeah…”
He cleared his throat, tried to look away. If he looked away, perhaps he could remember what you had done to him, and then he could go back to wanting to never see you again…
“Look, I… I know that now is obviously not the right time but… do you think that we could talk? Like… properly. You… you kind of stormed out last time, and I’m not blaming you for it,” you added in a hurry, as if to hold him back. “I… I understand. But we should talk about this. Could we do that?’
“I really don’t know what we could discuss,” Andrew shrugged, his voice growing harsher even if it was still low. “You’ve met someone else, there’s nothing to add.”
“You haven’t answered a single phone call since that night.”
He let out a long exhale through his nose, clenched his jaw. Still, his voice was soft when he answered.
“I… I don’t think we should see each other for a while, Y/N.”
“But I…”
“Please, just…”
“We should talk about this! Before taking any decision, we should talk about this! Andy… please…”
There were tears in your eyes and he was so angry by the sight. He was the one with a broken heart in this, with the unrequited feelings and the shattered self-esteem. Not you. Why the fuck were you crying when he was the one who felt betrayed and used?
“Look… Just one time. Let us talk about this, just once. And then, you can never see me again if you want.”
Andrew averted his eyes, buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers. But he nodded still.
“Alright.”
“Are you free tomorrow night?”
He nodded again.
“Alright, then… come to my place tomorrow, okay? We can talk this through.”
He nodded, unable to look up at you again, he knew he would start crying if he did.
And then the tailor was back, talking about the colours of pocket squares, and Andrew followed him in silence back to Sam, and the happiness of a friend Andrew was determined not to taint with his own sorrow. He was smiling when he looked at the green fabrics the tailor had to offer.
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silverynight · 3 days
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The haori
It surprises Tanjirou to see Tomioka arrive to the butterfly mansion; he knows (thanks to Kocho) that there's not going to be a hashira meeting any time soon. Also, and he feels relieved when he notices, Tomioka doesn't look injured.
His surprise only grows when the water hashira looks around, almost desperate. As soon as his deep blue eyes find his though, his shoulders relax.
Taking a deep breath, the Pillar sits right next to him on the floor. The sun is shining brightly over the backyard; everything looks green there.
It's really a beautiful day.
"They told me you were hurt."
He nods, although realizes quickly that it's useless because Tomioka is not looking at him.
"Nothing serious," he says, smiling because Tomioka's presence always makes him feel better. "It's just my arm and leg."
Turning his head at him, Tomioka frowns, glaring in disapproval at the bandage under Tanjirou's white pants. Then, he looks at the one under his sleeve like it has personally insulted him.
"Are you sure you don't need to be in bed right now?"
Shaking his head, Tanjirou chuckles; even though Tomioka looks irritated, his nose tells him he's not angry with him; he's worried. Around them, the people working in the mansion start looking in their direction every now and then with curiosity.
"I'm fine. I'll probably get another mission soon."
By the way he grimaces, Tomioka doesn't seem to like the idea of him going into battle at the moment.
Tanjirou is about to ask him what he's doing there when the hashira moves and puts his own haori on the young demon slayer's shoulders.
Blinking in confusion, Tanjirou glances up at Tomioka again only to see that he's looking away from him again. His cheeks are slightly pink.
"You looked like you were cold."
He's not. The weather is amazing. However, he doesn't want to make him feel bad (after all he's done for Nezuko) so he thanks him and puts it on.
Besides, his uniform and his haori are being washed at the moment so he supposes it's fine to borrow Tomioka's for a while.
It smells just like him; like ocean water, like salt... Like a river. All at the same time.
"It's huge," Tanjirou chuckles. It's only natural since Tomioka is taller and stronger than him.
"My haori looks perfect on you," the water hashira says and only then Tanjirou looks back at him, noticing the fond expression on his face.
He sounds almost proud and his eyes glimmer with triumph when he notices the others are watching them.
Aoi gets closer to them and (to Tanjirou's shock) bow at them both. Tomioka nods in approval for some reason.
No, she's never bowed at him. Tanjirou is sure her rank is superior to his.
"I'm sorry to interrupt such an intimate moment," she mumbles, prompting Tanjirou to narrow his eyes in confusion. "But I need to check on Tanjirou-san injuries."
San? Since when she uses an honorific to talk to him?
"Of course," Tomioka says. "I'll go with you."
***
Looking unusually nervous, Aoi does her best to change Tanjirou's bandages quickly. It seems like Tomioka's intense look is making her less confident for some reason.
She looks almost scared.
"You should get something to eat," she tells him, moving away from as soon as she finishes. Relief is written all over her face. "Well, I'm done here."
"Thank you!" Tanjirou grins, but doesn't have time to say anything else because Tomioka takes him in his arms and carries him to the main room.
They eat together; he's so focused on the food that doesn't realize he's still wearing the haori or that Tomioka is staring at him with a fond smile.
When they finish, Kocho tells Tanjirou she has important things to discuss with Tomioka so the young demon slayer goes to Nezuko's room to check on her.
He manages to catch a few sentences of their conversation however.
"You have to tell him, Giyuu! Otherwise you're doing this for nothing! You know it's not fair..."
"I will tell him eventually."
"Probably on your wedding day..."
Tanjirou narrows his eyes, he's not sure if Kocho is just joking or if she's being serious, but thinking about Tomioka getting married makes him feel sad for a moment. He shakes his head though, reminding himself to be kind. He should be glad for his friends.
After seeing that Nezuko is still asleep, Tanjirou decides to go back to the yard, but finds himself in front Murata instead. They almost bump into each other, however, thanks to his nose he could move away in time.
"Tanjirou!" He says, smiling as his cheeks turn slightly pink. "Just the person I was in looking for!"
"Really?" He chuckles. "What do you need from me?"
"Well... Since both got some free time right now I was wondering..." He stops as soon as his eyes fall over the haori Tanjirou's wearing. "Is that Tomioka-san's?"
"Yes," Tanjirou nods, looking down at himself, still amused. "It's really big for me, don't you think? Oh, sorry! You were about to tell me something! What was it?"
Murata shakes his head, looking pale.
"N-Nothig. I didn't know you were already–that you had..." Again, he stops when he sees something over Tanjirou's shoulder. He bows. "I was already leaving, Tomioka-san!"
"Wait!" It's too late, he's already gone before Tanjirou can say anything else. He smells a bitter scent coming from Tomioka when he moves right next to him. However, when the water hashira looks down at him, the smell is replaced by a sweeter one.
"Let's go to the backyard," Tomioka mumbles, trying to hold back a pleased smile.
***
Tanjirou gives him back the haori when it's time for him to leave. With a soft smile, he puts it back on slowly, almost like he wants everyone to see him.
"I'll be in contact," Tomioka promises, caressing Tanjirou's hair, surprising the young demon slayer. "I'll find a way to see you soon, no matter where you are."
Feeling excited at the possibility of seeing him again soon, Tanjirou beams at him. However, his smile vanishes when the water hashira leans, takes his hand and kisses it softly.
It's a shame the Pillar goes away right after that, leaving Tanjirou in a flustered shock for a couple of seconds.
There's something going on. Something he's missing.
He has to find out what it is.
***
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41 notes · View notes
blkdaddie · 3 days
Text
The Doctor's House Calls
Story tags: PG-13, Fluff, Interracial, Age Gap, Mpreg, Gay Romance
I was raised in the deep south, where family is everything. I’m the youngest of 8, all boys. So when Mama got sick wasn’t no girls to take care of her, and I promised to stay by her side. My brothers were all off starting their own families and businesses and such, and couldn’t send but so much money home. Not enough to get a nurse more than a coupla times a week. So I got a little job doing landscaping for the town; nothing exciting but I get to be outside and got a nice little pension waiting. Rest of the time it was just me and Mama.
When she took a turn our family doctor said I needed to take her to a specialist over in the city, a young buck straight out of school and still wet behind the ears. He didn’t look old enough to tie his own shoes but Mama took to him straight off and wouldn’t see anyone else. It was a long ride back and forth, few times a month. So when her doctor offered to come do a house call I sho nuff said yes. With the price of gas these days and such, it was a blessing. So Dr. Nate - he tol’ me call  him Dr. Nate- started coming up to see Mama on the regular. But each time he came a little earlier and stayed a little later. He was new to the area, said he didn’t know nobody and liked our company. He helped a lot, and getting on almost 60 years old, my bad knees were grateful.  We was so thankful I started inviting him to stay for dinner, and when peach season came I made a cobbler. He said it was the best thing he’d ever eaten and I had some talented hands. Such a silly thing, don’t know why it made my cheeks hot.  
Even still, I never thought ‘bout Dr. Nate coming ‘round so much but Mama started fussing at me to brush my hair and put on a clean shirt before his visits. I was mighty surprised that night I was washing dishes while he got Mama settled and he came right up behind me and kissed my neck! I ‘bout dropped the gravy boat. You see, I been with some of the faster girls in the town when I was younger, but wasn’t  no woman trying to date a man with a momma to take care of round the clock. Figured my romancin' days was behind me.
So I whirled round and said “Now see here, I ain’t no sissy!” And don’t you know that man grinned dead in my face and said “No, you’re all man.” And grabbed me right through my levi’s. Well it had been a while and his hand felt so good, maybe I didn’t protest as much as I should have.  He really took liberties and started kissin’ me but good.  Tasted like peach cobbler. And him being a doctor and all, when he said he wanted to give me an anatomy lesson about the prostate, I was curious. Well we got to having more lessons and next thing you know, I’m getting swole. Sure took me by surprise but Mama said children are a blessing. She passed quietly in her sleep when I was about 4 months gone. Seemed silly rattlin’ around this big old house by myself so Nate moved in, said he don't mind the commute if it means coming home to me.
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I been thinkin’ about retirement, been 40 years on the job and it’s getting hard with a big ol’ belly. Nate thinks I should stay home anyhow; he wants at least 4 more kids and we’ll have to do it fast before I’m too old.
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Mama said birthin' is a natural as breathin' and ain't no reason for big hospitals so I delivered at home way it's s'posed to be. Nate got a taste of being a country doctor. He did a real good job taking care of me, real good indeed.
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He’s aiming for a houseful. It’s what Mama would want.
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cal-writes · 3 days
Text
train au snippet number 2! this time it's namis pov. it takes place after chapter 3 and i think that wraps up train au for now! that's all she wrote™ thanks so much everyone for your love and excitement for this story it was a joy to write and share. if you have questions about the universe that i didnt get into in the main story feel free to shoot me an ask bc i probably thought about it. here is the other snippet and heres the full fic!
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Nami turns on the bed. Despite sharing it, she and Zoro are miles apart on the king sized mattress. It doesn't even creak in the slightest, only the fabric rustles softly. She loves staying over at Kaya's. Everything is lush and extravagant, like staying at a hotel for free and without strangers. A vacation from real life which is what they sorely needed after tonight. Her dress is draped over one of the chairs next to the bed. In the dim light of the night the wine stain at the hem looks black. She'll have to remember to take it to a different dry cleaners than the one she stole it from. 
She looks over, pulling her hair out from under her head. With the moonlight falling in from the window she can see Zoro's profile in the dark. His eyes are closed, chest falling and rising slowly. 
"You okay?" Nami asks, loud enough to wake Zoro up should he already be asleep. He shuffles around with his eyes closed.
"Yeah. Didn't even hit me." He replies, nonchalant. Wide awake. 
She scowls at him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
Zoro sighs and moves his arms until he can cross them behind his head. He opens his eyes and glares at the ceiling. He shrugs half heartedly with one shoulder. "Was only a matter of time, so."
Nami sits up in bed so she can put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?" She demands.
Zoro narrows his eye at her. “We both know what.”
“You’re a catch.” She tells him and gives her a look. 
“Right." He huffs, angrily adjusting the duvet around him. "I’ve been sleeping on my friends’ couches for months when I’m not sleeping on a train.”
"So what?" She says petulantly.
"Not to mention 'a hopeless wreck and pathetic child'." He tells her pointedly and Nami scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I said that when I was mad at you, you can't hold that against me." She says and Zoro shakes his head, closing his eyes to deem the conversation over with. Nami pouts. "Even if-," She says and Zoro opens one eye, the vein on his forehead announcing his irritation. "He's a much bigger loser than you. You're perfect for each other."
Zoro groans. "You hate him, what do you care?" One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose. 
"I don't hate him. He doesn't deserve you. There's a difference."
Zoro sits up, throwing the blanket off of him and his hands into the air. "Yes, of course. The accomplished doctor with his own apartment, obviously the teenage dropout criminal is much too good for him." Zoro's voice says, dripping in sarcasm so she stabs him in the ribs with her nails.
He lets her, rubbing his side afterwards. "This guy paid me 50 bucks to know if you're still alive. He's a mess." She tells him. 
Zoro gets off the bed in a huff. "Doesn't matter who's more pathetic. It's not up to me."
"So you're not even gonna fight?" She says and he glares at her.
Something builds up in him, a tidal wave sweeping in, but it crashes against the shore before he can let it lose. She sees it in the rise and fall of his shoulders. His breath leaves him in a short and violent burst. He shakes his head, shrugging. 
"What's there to fight for?" He asks, letting himself fall on the couch underneath the giant window. The sheer curtains are open, bathing the entire room in the light of the full moon. He pulls his legs up and pops his elbow on the back of the couch, gaze through the glass. "As you said, he got something out of it. I had a good time. Whatever." 
Nami sighs deeply. "Zoro-" 
"Wouldn't have lasted anyway." He tells her sharply. "Nothing ever does." He mutters into his hand and exhales heavily. The brief stint in the holding cell making him all melodramatic. Nami purses her lips. Zoro had been looking forward to tonight, even if he hadn’t said it in so many words. 
The blanket rustles as Nami gets up and her feet pad softly over the carpeted floors. "Come on now." She says, softly chiding. He folds his legs to make room for her on the couch as she joins him, grabbing a pillow to put on her lap in lieu of a blanket. 
Zoro glances over. "Let's be honest. He can do better." He says with misplaced humor, avoiding Nami's indignant gaze. 
She exhales loudly. "Okay, you want to feel sorry for yourself tonight. Fine. I'll let it slide." She tells him before reaching out to grab his chin with her sharp fingers and turn it to face her. "But he would be so lucky to have you. And if he doesn't see that he's an idiot. Don't argue with me, we both know I'm always right." 
Zoro sighs softly, resignation on his face. He knows she won't take any rebuttal so he stays silent, cheeks squished in her hold. She releases him. Shuffling closer until he has to put his legs over her lap. 
She lets her hands fall on his knees. "I know things suck right now." 
"Not more than usual." Zoro says, looking out into the dark. Their view stretches out across the gardens. Out here where Kaya's mansion sits, there are even a few stars visible at night. "Been way worse." He adds. 
Nami sighs again and sinks further down until the upholstery. "True." She admits. 
"I miss Luffy." Zoro mutters into the night. A rare admission. The ache and weight of the night has crushed him underfoot and revealed his mushy center. Nami puts her chin on his propped up knee and wraps her arms around his legs. 
"Me too." She says miserably. Only a little while longer now. She should check when Luffy’s flight is scheduled for again. "He's gonna be so mad at you that you didn't tell him." She says with a small smirk. 
Zoro huffs. "He would have come back early if he knew." And Zoro has been doing just about everything to avoid that. Luffy had been excited about this trip for months. One of the reasons Zoro hadn't wanted to tell Chopper about his situation was because Chopper wouldn't have been able to keep a secret. They both knew Luffy would have dropped everything, helped him, maybe even fought for him against that stupid parent and the police. Zoro would only have to ask but he never would have done that. It had taken weeks for him to even consider crashing at Nami's place. She probably wouldn't even know about it if Franky hadn't told Robin who had told her. And Franky only knew because he had nagged Zoro on the train for days until he spilled the beans. 
It was infuriating, the way he insisted he didn't need help. He was going to figure his own shit out. He always did. 
If she weren't wired exactly the same, she would have throttled him already. 
Nami hums. "Heard back from Kidd yet?" She asks. 
"No. Next week they said." Zoro mutters. She clicks her tongue grumbling under her breath. How long did Kidd need to decide to hire someone when he was desperate for any help in the bar? Bastard. 
Zoro sighs, looking up at the moon above. "Let's go to sleep." 
Nami blows out a breath. "Yeah." She says and neither of them move. Outside the moon makes its way across the sky.
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stevie-petey · 10 hours
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hi m i'm not sure if you've done this blurb before, and my bad if you have, but i was thinking of getting a steve pov from his very bad terrible horrible no good summer when bug pulled away from him?? just his general thoughts and feelings on the whole thing from when it was happening?? love u and everything u write!!
ive done this type of blurb before but ,,,, i loooove diving into steves pathetic lovesick thoughts about bug and that summer <3
enjoy !
"its your first day of senior year tomorrow," nancy sighs against steves chest as they sit in the back of steves car late at night. theyre parked in front of her house, still have a few minutes before her curfew, and she seems to be content in steves company.
"yeah, i guess it is." steve shifts uncomfortably in the seat. he doesnt like being reminded that hes soon to be a senior, soon to be eighteen with a future handed to him by his father.
steve doesnt like being reminded that soon he will graduate and you wont be by his side like he had come to hope youd be.
its not that he had come to fantasize about you attending his graduation ceremony, or even help guide him through the college admissions process, but steve had selfishly thought youd be next to him as he crossed this next stage of his life.
and now hes almost eighteen and he knows, sometime in the summer, he has missed your sixteenth birthday, and he hasnt spoken to you in two months.
"are you excited?" nancy asks, breaking the silence. she can feel the uncertainty that hangs above them, steve has voiced to her before how fearful he is of growing up. she thinks its why hes been so distant these last few months.
june had brought a lively, vivid version of steve that nancy had come to learn how to love, and yet july his vividness dimmed. she had asked him what was wrong, if she could help, but all nancy had gotten in response were books about journalism handed to her with a bittersweet smile.
nancy has been too afraid to ask about it ever since.
steve thinks for a moment, though he knows that he has nothing to look forward to if it means you wont be next to him to tease him and call him an idiot. if he cant have your eyes shine up at him to remind him that hes worth more than whatever his asshole father tells him he is. "i dont know."
its three words, but its a confession that burns steves lips.
it feels as if these last few months have been confessions being stripped from him. confessions of missing you, that you had become his best friend within those months at the bookstore, of fearing that he will never truly be able to find anyone like you, so accommodating and accepting of his everything.
nancy turns to face steve and brushes a piece of his hair behind his ear. "i'll be with you every day, you know."
"i know," steve grabs the hand that fixes his hair and kisses it. "and i love you for that."
i love you.
the words feel thick on his tongue and steve wonders if love is supposed to feel like hes drowning. he supposes its why his mom drinks when his dad is away.
"i love you too." nancys blush is beautiful underneath the moonlight, and steve remembers how pretty yours had been when the sun had hit your face just right one day in the bookstore.
he wonders when he'll stop missing you. when your name will no longer cause his breath to stutter and heart to pound. even while youre away from him, unbothered and unphased by what hes lost with you, steve can feel you surrounding him.
steve will never know what he had done wrong that day in bookstrordinary to cause you to pull away from him, but he knows that he will carry the vulnerability you placed within him forever.
so he walks nancy to her doorstep, kisses her goodnight, and drives home with the radio turned off. he lets his thoughts wander to you, as they always do, and he comes home to an empty house and an even emptier room devoid of the light you once brought into his life.
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crowned-aeris · 1 day
Text
Part 3 of the au my brain worms gave me 😔
Part 1 and 2
=====
"I keep forgetting about you being a literal trash rat," Jason scoffs, poking at the single pitiful skillet at sat innocently in the giant pantry. He sighs, taking it out, rinsing it, before setting it on the stove.
"Shut up," Tim sighed, pressing his face into the countertop, "You're such an asshole."
"Language, birdy," Jason scoffed, grimacing as he looked through the fridge, "Is there nothing organic in here? You're supposed to be rich, Tim!"
"It's too much work!" his brother complained, "I can't bother with cooking when there are Batmen and Robins to stalk!"
Jason deadpanned, turning over to pin Tim with an unimpressed stare, "Really, kid?"
He shrugs, "You called me a stalker, Jay, I'm just leaning into it! Also, do you want to deal with Dick or Damian next?"
Jason scoffed, "You're the genius, figure it out."
"You lie to Batman once!"
"Oh shut up," Jason rolled his eyes before deciding to make scrambled eggs, because those were the only thing in the entire fridge that were even slightly healthy. Everything else was either frozen meals, exotic fruit juice, and even more frozen meals. God the amount of salt here is atrocious, "We both know you've lied to all of us at least three times."
It was very telling when Tim didn't respond.
"Alright, you make the plans, I make the eggs, and I'll veto anything that sounds utterly batshit insane."
"Do you want to call your mom first?" Tim offered, "She's probably worried sick."
Jason turned, his expression pinching as guilt churned in his chest... He... He doesn't know if he should. He knows she'll die, that someday she'll overdose and leave behind a shaking, trembling, wide-eyed and fearful son, but- but he doesn't think he could deal with it again. Sure, she's his mom, but he- he doesn't know her, this version of her, at least.
"It's okay if you don't-"
"Shut up," he hissed, shocking himself at how strangled and strained his voice sounded, "I- I don't know if I can."
And Tim, with an infuriatingly patient expression, nods.
Jason sucks in a breath through his teeth. He came to peace with her death all those years ago, the faint memory of his previous life overlapping with this reality's.
But... he still owes it to her...
"...Do you want to come with me?" Jason asks after a few seconds of silence.
"Yeah," Tim responds, "Let me go grab some money, and we can buy something instead."
Jason nods shortly before shoving the skillet back into the pantry before going to wait by the door.
A few moments later, the pair of boys sat side by side on the back of the bus. They made have been at each other's throat all those years ago, but now- god help those who ever try to sever them.
As the bus slowed to a stop, the pair wordlessly stood in tandem and strode off the bus. Years of carefully ingrained memory allowing the pair to work together like a well-oiled machine.
"What are you kids doing out here?" a strange man drawls, striding forward to stand in front of the two.
Jason tensed, shifting forward to place himself between Tim and the strange man, "It's none of your business."
"Don't be like that," the man continues, stepping forward with hungry eyes trawling down Jason's face, "are you two brothers?"
Tim's hand pressed against his shoulder, and Jason relaxed to allow Tim to work his stalker magic.
"Yes, we are!" Tim chirped brightly, his currently tone at complete odds with Tim half an hour ago, "I'm so sorry about my brother's attitude. He didn't get enough sleep last night, you see, so he's just a little grumpy."
"I can speak for myself, Al," Jason huffed, feeling acutely aware of the eyes pinning against his skin.
The man looked interested. It was all Jason could do to keep himself from lashing out at the man for his predatory gaze, "What's your name, kid?"
"I'm Alvin John," Tim says brightly, nudging Jason's side with a careful look, "What's your name?"
"How about your brother first?"
"...Thomas," Jason huffed.
"Why are you two out here all alone? Where are your parents?"
"We were out on a walk," Tim nods, "Don't worry, we're safe! Our mom is expecting us, so we should really be on our way."
"You still haven't told us your name," he interrupts.
"Bright kid! You'd be great if you smiled more," and Tim's hand tightening around his arm was the only thing keeping him from brandishing his pocket knife and pulling a Damian, "my name is Derick Gleisner."
"It was nice meeting you, Mister Gleisner," Tim smiles, "I hope you have a good day!"
"You too, kid."
Jason allows Tim to lead them into the crowd. The pair losing the eyes against their back before heading toward Jason's child hood home.
"Robert Shawn," Tim hisses, barely loud enough for Jason to hear, "arrested on account of human and drug trafficking. Batman will find him six days from now and turn him in to the GCPD."
"You want to use him?" Jason replied tightly.
Tim, to Jason's chagrin, nods, "It's the fastest way, short of breaking into the manor, which would just raise their suspicions. If you want to do this another way, I don't mind."
"You already have plans in place, don't you?" Jason groaned, swatting at Tim's arm with a tired sigh. Tim gives him a side-long look, and Jason's question was promptly answered.
They reached the house a minute later, and Jason pushes open the door with his spare key.
"Mom, I'm home!" he calls, freezing as he received no response, "...Mom?"
Tim freezes suspiciously beside him before cursing under his breath, "Jason!"
"What?" he snaps.
"You were here last time, right?" Tim says softly, "You were home."
Jason nods jerkily, dread pooling in his chest as he sees Tim's expression pinch in worry.
He tears away, the carpet bunching under his feet as he scrambles toward the kitchen.
"MOM?" he calls. She wasn't in the kitchen. Maybe her room? "MOM! MOM, WHERE ARE YOU?"
Jason shoves open the door, scrambling at the doorknob in his haste. He bursts in only to see Catherine slumped over on the floor.
This- this wasn't supposed to fucking happen yet! What the FUCK.
He screamed. His knees aching as he lunged forward to grapple with his mom's body. Her skin cold and limbs stiff- his mom- his mom.
Shit- what- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! It- it was august, she wasn't supposed to die until february. God DAMNIT.
"I've called the ambulance," Tim says from the doorway, "Jay..."
"Shut UP. SHUT. UP," Jason screams, shoving his forehead against chilled cold skin as hot tears burned against his eyes, "Mom...This- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! Tim- what- why?"
"It's... it's most likely because of the disparities between timelines," his brother says, somehow making his technical blabber sound fucking sympathetic, "i think in this timeline, since you weren’t here to stop whatever from happening…”
“…Fuck,” he hisses, flinching slightly as he hears sirens wail in the distance.
“Do you need some time alone?” Tim asks hesitantly.
Jason grits his teeth. He- he doesn’t want to leave her alone- but, but damnit, Tim. Knowing the stupid little fucker would skitter off and do something so utterlyfucking effective yet idiotic. He sucks in a breath, “Just- just give me a sec, kid. I- i need to say goodbye…”
“Okay. Take your time…”
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bullet-clubs-bitch · 2 days
Text
Mine
Jay White X Fem Reader requested by: @switchbabeeexo
Jay White Masterlist Main Masterlist (word count 1,200)
Summary: Ever since Jay joined the AEW roster he has gained the attention of the female talent. The girls backstage are drawn to his foreign accent and mysterious personality. It doesn’t matter how many times Jay tells you he’s not interested in those girls you still find yourself growing insecure. What happens when the voices get too loud and you need that extra reassurance? 
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I was well aware of all the new attention Jay would get once he joined AEW so why was I so shocked when the women backstage threw themselves at him? This wasn’t something new, in fact, it happened all the time in Japan. The difference was the girls here were different, they were special, they were gorgeous. I watched every week as different women tried to flirt with Jay, they were practically foaming at the mouth. “Oh my gawddd, your accent is so hotttt” many of them would say as they leaned on his shoulder. You could tell that Jay coudn’t give a fuck about these girls, he never fed into their fantasies. Instead, he would brush every comment off like it was nothing. He knew I hated it, he found it amusing how much I cared about the comments when he didn’t.
I sat at catering staring daggers at Jay and Harley Cameron, she was attempting to flirt with him. Her hand was on his chest as her breasts fell out of her top. Jay on the other hand was completely ignoring her. Just then Jay and I made eye contact. He could see the anger in my eyes and was quick to excuse himself from Harley. “You know I wasn’t even paying attention to her right?” he told me. “I don’t even like any of these women” He knew I was mad and wound’t forgive him that easily. “Y/n I’m sorry, you know I love you” “Why is it that I can’t even talk to Will Ospeary without you wanting to kill someone when you get to flirt with the female talent” I asked him. “That’s different-” “No it’s not!” “Will is in love with you, he wants to fuck you” “Don’t you think those girls want that too. Look at Harley over there, she was just eye fucking you” “Come on Y/n, you’re being ridiculous” “No, I’m done” I yelled before walking out of the building. “Don’t worry JayJay, you can sleep in my bed tonight” Harley said to Jay. “Fuck off” Jay spat back. 
On my way out of the arena, I ran into no other than Will. “What’s wrong love? Did the switchblade finally cut you?” he asked. “I don’t want to talk about it” I told him, trying to leave as fast as I could. “Are you sure, you look like you’re about to cry” he told me sincerely. Next thing I knew I was in his hotel room in tears as he held me. “I can’t believe someone would say something like that. That’s complete bullshit” Will told me “What did Jay say when you told him?” “He said I was overreacting” “I’m really sorry Y/n, you didn’t deserve that” I don’t know how or why I was venting to Will but it felt good that someone was finally listening to me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I overheard a week prior to this mess. I had heard the other girls talking shit about me and when I told Jay about it he just brushed it off like it was nothing. The conversation was between Harley and Saraya. “I can’t believe Jay is still with her. You would think once he made it he would get rid of her” Harley said “Like I get they have been together for a long time and everything but let’s just face it, he could do better” she continued “I don’t even know what it is that he sees in her? She’s not pretty, she’s boring, there is nothing special about her. There are so many other people out there, look at all the models that want him and yet he’s still with her” I was trying not to cry as I heard Harley’s words. Sure they hurt but who she was talking to hurt more. One of my best friends Saraya stood next to her, listening to the conversation. “Once you get to know her, Y/n is really nice Harley. You don’t even know her!” I listened as Saraya defended me but that didn’t take away from the hurtful words. 
Once I left Will’s room I returned to my own hotel room. All I wanted to do was have a hot shower. I opened the door expecting to be alone since Dynamite was on the air but to my surprise, Jay was waiting for me. “Where were you?” he asked calmly “Does it matter where I was?” I asked him “You were with him weren’t you?” “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Why should you care, at least Will cares about me?” I could see the pain in his eyes “I do care about you Y/n, I love you. I’m sorry about earlier, I really am” I knew he was sincere but I still wasn’t convinced he was sorry. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen” he told me “I don’t care what those other girls think, you are the only person I need. You’re not boring Y/n, they are just jealous of you. Jealous of how naturally perfect you are. Look at the girls that flirt with me, they are all fake, they are not real. Fake tits, fake lips, fake everything. They are so ugly both inside and out that they need to do all of these things to at least have a chance against you. You have perfect plump lips that I love to kiss and bite. I would be scared Harley’s filler would explode if I did that to her. Your chest is warm and soft, those girls have fucken hard boulders in their tops” I couldn't help the laugh I let out at his comments. “It’s true! You are just perfect, I love every single thing about you. All of your ‘imperfections’ are perfections.” I didn’t even realize I was crying until Jay wiped away my tears and held me close. “I know, I know baby, I’m sorry” Jay and I stayed like that for a while, in each other’s loving embrace before sharing a hot shower.
I let the hot water burn my skin as Jay rubbed bubbles all over my body. “I don’t think you understand how obsessed with you I am. I love every single part of you Y/n” Jay told me as he began placing kisses all over my body. “This scar you claim to hate, love it,” he said as he kissed the deep scar on my side “Your hip dips, love them, stretch marks, love them, your beauty marks, obsessed” Every single ‘flaw’ I had pointed out over the years Jay told me he loved, kissing every single one lovingly. “You know how much I love you when I’m on my knees for you Y/n,” Jay told me, his eyes now dark. “Do you forgive me?” he asked “Yes, I’m sorry Jay. I love you too” “No, I’m sorry Y/n. I hope this will make it up to you” 
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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days
Text
3.121 Fake
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As I spoke with Dad, I noticed my guests dipping into the kitchen and getting our leftovers out of the fridge, so I excused myself to go make a proper meal, noting I should prepare food before our next party. Finding a dish that satisfied Sophia's lactose intolerance and Dad's vegetarianism proved challenging, so I went to the internet to help me. I found an interesting vegetable stew called Three Sisters that fit the bill, so I made that on the grill, hoping to entice everyone to come outside. I thought about Dub as I chopped veggies and added them into the pot. How was everything going with him and Maia? He should be here with the rest of my friends, but I chose not to invite him and felt very guilty about it. I didn't feel right about leaving him out of our struggles and then pop up out of nowhere with a party invite. Maia should have been about ready to pop by then, so they probably couldn't come anyway. She may have already given birth, and they're dealing with a demanding newborn right now. I could say that was my assumption if he got upset, but I needed to tell him the truth. He trusted me with something, so I needed to do the same.
My stew was looking pretty good and smelled even more amazing. Sauteed onions, peppers, and garlic were one of my favorite smells, but adding the sweetness of butternut squash was enough to make my mouth water. Maira found me as I sprinkled a little cilantro on top.
"Hey! Can you try this and make sure it tastes okay?" I asked.
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"Sure. What is it?"
"It's a vegetarian stew."
She raised the spoon to her nose and sniffed.
"Hmmm...that smells wonderful."
Finally she puts it in her mouth, and her soft moans give me the answer I needed. Maira wasn't exactly Ms. Sunshine, but she didn't seem to be herself. Something about her eyes tipped me off, and I felt as though she were putting on for our benefit.
"So, how've you been?" I asked.
Her eyes widened as if I had alarmed her, but after a moment she relaxed in resignation.
"Uhhhhh... Not great, honestly."
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My initial reaction was to be upset about her not telling me what went on in her life, but then I thought about how I had just beat myself up over doing the same thing to Dub. Maybe the natural response to trauma was to retreat instead of reach out.
"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you," I said.
She snorted.
"Don't apologize for living a great life, Luca," she said, flatly.
But that was the thing. It hadn't been great, but how would she know that? Sophia and I had become masters of fake smiles and carrying on.
"So...what's going on?" I asked.
"Well...to start, my brother died and-"
"There you are," Chi Chi shouted, interrupting Maira and I. "I was wondering where you've been hiding. Your house is amazing! I always wanted to know what the inside of this one looked like. Did you renovate or is this how it looked? ..."
She went on and on and on, hammering me with questions about the house without even taking a breath. Sophia brought the portable speaker outside, placed it on the table, turned it on, and began to dance. It was one of those wedding gifts we never thought we'd use, but actually came in handy. One by one, everyone else joined us outside, and before I knew it, my moment with Maira was gone. I wanted to hold her and express my condolences, but she wiped her tears and put on a smiling face, moving on as if nothing happened. How did she do that? Death was such a big event. Maybe later I'd be able to revisit the subject. Until then, I too plastered on a smile and regaled Chi Chi.
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Eventually the music drew Chi Chi away from me, and I was relieved. I'm surprised my stew was still warm and ate while everyone shook their groove things. Alessia and Sophia seemed to giggle about something, and I was so happy to see them getting along, especially since Less had been scowling and complaining all afternoon. I still felt some kind of way about knowing my friend was suffering while we were all celebrating, but seeing everyone enjoy themselves in our new home made me happy.
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When Sophia had her fill of dancing, or maybe she couldn't hold her secret any longer, she called everyone inside for cake, and I lit the candles for her. She stood in front of it, looking at everyone and smiling; she was so beautiful.
"I appreciate you all being here," she said. "You're our village. If you haven't guessed by now, we're gonna welcome a little one into this village."
Gasps, cheers, and applause erupted around the table, and my heart was so full. I glanced at Mama to see how she reacted because I had previously told her she would be the first to know when we found out, but clearly I did not hold up my end of the bargain, especially when I had a prime opportunity to tell her in the kitchen. I thought maybe she'd want to strangle me, but instead, her eyes were full of tears of joy, and I was relieved. She had two grandchildren loading and was probably in shock.
Sophia continued.
"It means a lot to me personally to have so many friends and loved ones who love and support us, especially on this new road we're going down, so thank you all!"
Everyone applauded again. As she made a wish, we all made a great ruckus as we celebrated her transition into adulthood.
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"Sweet llamas that's a beautiful sim," Chi Chi said. "You are one blessed man, Luca."
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