#BEAS HAIR IN THE FIRST ONE

[repmet]

Wingwoman Princess Beatrice

[bumblingbabooshka]

Precious. Cherished. And other things to call your firstborn son. [Patreon | Commissions]

[kaisollisto]

AND YOU KEEP ON FALLING BABY FIGURE IT OUT

[pocketwish]

followed one of yumiko higuchi's hand embroidery patterns <33 it's certainly not perfect but i learned quite a bit and i'm excited to keep practicing

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.6k

part 2 here

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there. 

The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours. 

Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features. 

A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day. 

You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated. 

It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes. 

He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield. 

You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted. 

Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier. 

Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair. 

“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment. 

Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within. 

His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style. 

Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence. 

“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.” 

The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.” 

No laugh but you blaze ahead. 

“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement. 

“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure. 

“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle. 

“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle. 

“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”

The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it, 

“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange. 

The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain. 

Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you. 

You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.

You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.  

Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.

Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh. 

It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless. 

Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor. 

You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin. 

You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice. 

It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself. 

Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time. 

It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Chapter 2:I wanna be pretty... CONFIDENT

Waking up at 5 a.m. for work—wait. You quit your job.

Huh. It’s weird—you’re free today.

Yawning loudly, you stretch in your My Melody pajamas as you walk down the halls. That’s when you see Damian.

"Disheveled as usual, (Name)," he remarks, his usual glare fixated on you.

God. Your younger brother has always been a thorn in your side, constantly reminding you of how little you contribute to the family. To him, you’re the dead weight—the one who needs to step up and prove their worth. He probably came from some weird cult where family bonding means fighting each other. Dick once told you that eight-year-old Damian tried to prove he was the superior offspring by attempting to immobilize you with a butter knife while you, at twelve, just wanted to give him snacks.

"Yeah, I just woke up," you reply, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to fix it. Then, an idea pops into your head. "Are you free today, Damian? I don’t really have—"

He cuts you off before you can finish. "Why would I waste my time? Honestly, (Name), me, hanging out with you? What would we even do? You can’t even—"

You tune out the rest of his words, staring at him blankly. Right. You still have that habit of asking them to hang out.

"Okay, you made your point." Sighing, you turn away as Damian rolls his eyes and walks in the opposite direction.

So much for that.

A notification pops up on your phone. Glancing at the screen, you see that your class Instagram page mentioned you in a story. "Congrats to (Name) for winning 2nd place in the live painting competition!"

Smiling, you repost it and thank them. Another notification appears—this time, from Bea, your close classmate.

Boba_Lover: Finally, you’re active, bitch! I know you’re gonna say no as usual, but can you skip work and come to Johnson St.? They’re selling figurines and Pop Marts for you to waste your money on. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Seen

A rush of excitement fills your stomach. Oh my God. Thank you, thank you so much, Bea!

She’s always been persistent, never giving up on inviting you even when you constantly declined. Thank God for her determination.

You smile so hard that you literally jump in the middle of the hallway.

(Name): Okay. Seen

Immediately, your phone is flooded with excited messages—misspelled words, caps lock smashes, and even mentions in the class group chat.

LET'SGOCUTIES: "OMG FIRST TIME FULL ATTENDANCE JUST FOR A HANGOUT." "Academics? No. Overpriced coffee and Ren Fair? YESSS."

You giggle, but then a terrifying realization hits you.

I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR.

Back in your room, you stare at your closet.

Oh my God. It’s all My Melody-themed.

Pajamas, home clothes, jackets, hats, skirts, pants, shirts—EVERYTHING.

They are so going to think you’re a huge weirdo. No one in your class has ever seen you in anything but the Gotham Prep uniform. This is a disaster.

But you have no choice.

You settle on a white, long, flowy skirt with a tiny, discreet My Melody logo near the hem, a blouse with ribbons inspired by My Melody’s bow, and a checkered My Melody cardigan. Your My Melody bag holds your matching wallet, tissues, hand sanitizer, medicine container, and powder compact.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you take in your blushed cheeks, soft manga lashes, and glossy lips. Immediately, you start nitpicking—your foundation has too much texture, your concealer didn’t completely hide your eye bags, your glitter is too faint, and your gloss feels too sticky.

Maybe this is a mistake.

Your phone vibrates. Bea.

"(Nickname), I’m waiting at your bus stop! Let’s go together! Maya brought her digicam, Ella brought her camera, so we’re taking so many pics today! AAAHHH I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU! ARE YOU NEAR?"

Her high-pitched excitement instantly calms your nerves.

"I’m heading out. I’ll be there soon."

As your Mary Janes click against the marble floor, you notice Dick, Tim, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian sitting on the couch—bickering, laughing, enjoying their time together.

"Everyone here?" Bruce asks.

"Yup, even Jason is here!" Dick grins.

A lump catches in your throat.

You want to stay. You want to be part of this moment.

But no one calls for you. No one asks if you’re staying.

You don’t cry—your lashes will fall off.

With a heavy heart, you leave the manor.

At the bus stop, Bea waves at you.

"(Name), you are such a cutie!" she gushes.

She’s wearing a black tube top, leopard-print flared pants, signature red-bottom heels, and a simple Prada handbag.

"I like your hair," you say, admiring her Ariana Grande-style ponytail.

Her eyes shine. "I love your makeup! It’s so doll-like! Douyin style suits you so well! Love, love the bag! Wait—I have an extra hair tie! Let’s match!"

Before you can protest, she pulls out hair ties, a comb, and hair gel, determined to style you herself.

Johnson St. is lively and chaotic.

Your class is already arguing about something.

When they notice you and Bea, they stop.

"Wow, matching hairstyles but completely different aesthetics!"

People start complimenting you.

A girl you’ve never spoken to before, dressed head to toe in Kuromi-themed attire, smirks at you.

"Wow, you love Kuromi," you comment, eyeing her outfit.

She raises an eyebrow. "You’re one to talk."

Her name is Alex.

You have so much fun.

The day feels too short for this much joy.

At dinner, your classmate Marcus drops a fry.

"Motherfuck—"

"WE ARE AT A FINE DINING RESTAURANT, WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" Bea snaps.

The entire restaurant goes silent.

Then Ethan joins in, "Marcus, why are you even eating fries before the meal—"

"OI, Marcus is just hungry. Does he not have the right to eat?" another classmate argues.

Suddenly, the class is divided into two.

And, unfortunately, you’re caught in the middle.

"(Name), was Marcus in the wrong?" Ethan asks.

You blink. Why me?!

Taking a deep breath, you reply, "Eating before the food is served is acceptable since fries are appetizers."

Marcus fist-pumps.

"However."

He slumps back down.

"It’s rude to curse in a fine dining restaurant. So while I agree with you, Ethan, Marcus can still eat what he wants."

Silence.

Then, applause. THE HELL?!

"Correct, (Name)!"

"That’s the longest you’ve ever talked in front of us!"

"WE NEED MORE PEOPLE LIKE YOU!"

Your face burns with embarrassment. "Sit down! This isn’t something to applaud!"

You get kicked out of the restaurant.

Laughing, Bea pats your shoulder. "Come out more often. This was fun."

Smiling, you nod. "I will."

Looking through your phone in Instagram you can’t help but laugh at all the stories in your classmates account; you never felt so accepted , pretty , funny , wanted , and overall happy. Yeah, you were happy everytime you get your paycheck , when you win awards , when Alfred makes you cookies , when Dick promises of hangouts , when you buy my melody merch , and get your nails done but this is different.

“I feel like a puzzle piece that fits, a star apart of a constellation, an outfit that just makes sense, a question that was answered, I feel fulfilled.”

Tags: @asillysimp @leeiasure

(Name)’s Class:  PSST  PSST PSST

(Name): I am not a cat.

(Name)’s Class: OMGSHETALKECOMEHERECUTIE

If you are overthinking the intentions of the classmates (Name) is like the Muse of the classroom because she is the most nonchalant, no one really bothers her cause everyone assumes she is serious and mature (She is one of the only few people in the class to get a job even though they are in well off school); So many of her classmates admires her work school balanced. Behind (Name)’s back everyone calls her Cutie of the Classroom. If you ask why this class is so close it’s because I headcannoned Gotham Prep as an elite school so only a few students are in the school their year having 3 sections, and because of this they have been the same classmates since elementary. Damian is 12 so 6th grade but takes some advanced classes with (Name) as she is in 11th grade.

[pinkiebieberpie]

YESSS THE PEOPLE WANT FARMER BUCKY !!!!

OH MY MY MY ઇઉ

(singledad!farmer!bucky x f!reader)

i'm happy to give the people what they want <33 i'm not much of a writer and it's more of a longer blurb/a few scenerios put in one longer post, but if you want to you can check my fic masterlist // inspired by this moodboard, enjoy!! reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 (and yes the title is taylor swift coded, if you know you know.) ++ @bstorn wanted to be tagged.

words: 1.5k

warnings: death (mentioned), age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, bucky is in his early 40s), mention of drinking, mention of hair pulling, smut, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, outside sex (fuck being quiet, they are sleeping), unprotected sex, cockwarming and creampie (but also not really??? but it is here???)

life is messy. y/n's was actually very messy that's why she decided to move, leave her old life behind and change everything. how did she end up in a small town in the middle of texas? nobody knows, but she was there alone.

the first month was the hardest, she found a new job in a bakery, made a friend - her coworker, jessie but there was not really much to do, calm town, everyone knew each other, basically no privacy. after that first month y/n met bucky, a single father of two, a farmer and big enthusiast of chocolate cookies they were selling at the bakery. was he flirty? maybe. was he friendly? 100%.

it all started innocent.

"hi, i'm bucky, you new in town?"

"how do you like it here?"

"if you need any help feel free to reach out."

and y/n in fact did reach out, cause she needed help when her apartmet flooded. it was out of the blue the next day when bucky came to the bakery, but he was more than happy to help. that day y/n and bucky get to know each other a little bit more. she found out he has two daughters, annie (4 years old) and bea (6 years old), he owns one of the biggest farms in town and it's in his family since... forever, really. she was sure he is married, he was wearing a wedding ring, but that was just a habit - his wife died two years ago in an accident. the conversation was smooth, it was clear that the chemistry was there, but nobody made a move.

"all should be fine now." was what bucky said when he finished fixing y/n's plumbing problem. was she starring at him a bit when he was fixing her sink? yes.

"thank you, really, i had no idea what to do and i don't know that many people here... so i kind of had to ask my friendly neighbourhood customer for help." she chuckled and licked her lip a little bit.

"oh, it's nothing, actually i have a favor to ask, myself... it's okay if you feel like this is too much, but i have to help my friend out of town on the weekend, he has some problems with his animals and i can't leave girls alone, could you babysit? i can pay!"

"what? babysit? i- i never did that, but if your daughters are even half as kind as you, i bet they are angels, so yeah, i can do that, i'm not working over the weekend, you don't have to worry. and you don't have to pay me, it's favor for a favor."

was it a bit weird and a bit fast? for some people maybe, but both of them really felt like they could've trust each other. and that's how y/n became a babysitter for annie and bea. the girls were little angels, that was true. it became a thing that y/n was coming over to play with them and watch them, when bucky was working or when he was busy with whatever he needed to do. girls adored her. she baked cookies with them, they played outside together, she loved reading books with annie and bea and they loved to listen to them.

one night bucky came home really late, the girls were sleeping and y/n fell asleep on the couch too. closing the door woke her up and looked at bucky all sleepy.

"huh? you are home? i better pack my thin-"

"are you crazy? it's 3am, you are staying here, i will drive you home in the morning." he said it with a tone that left no place for arguing. she was a bit turned on by his voice, but no way she would ever tell bucky that. they were friends. only friends, with a weird chemistry, but still friends... but are you really friends when it's 3am and you are sitting on a couch with a man so much older, talking about life, drinking and being really and i mean really comfortable with each other?

that night went peaceful and quietly, in the morning bucky made breakfast for all three of the girls and when his kids were ready all four of them left his farm. first bucky and y/n dropped annie and bea at their preschool and then they made their way to y/n's house.

"you know, they adore you." bucky said while he way driving. y/n felt her cheeks getting a bit more pinkish. and she had no idea why, it was a compliment from his daughters, kind of, not from him. but at this point she knew she was falling for this man and there was nothing she could do about it.

✧✧✧

a few months passed and everything was going great for both bucky and y/n. they were meeting almost every weekend and more than one time during the work week. one day bucky invided her to a picnic at his farm, but... it was only two of them. the girls visited their grandma, and the truth was bucky wanted to spend some time alone with his... friend? his who? that was maybe a little bit more complicated than he wanted it to be. farmer was thinking about her all the time and he was ready to make things official. he wasn't in a relationship since his wife passed and that was over two years ago! he deserved to be happy.

when bucky asked y/n to be his girlfriend she was speachless, cause of course she wanted it, she wanted it bad. she wanted him bad, to be honest. soon she found out bucky wasn't always that sweet and caring man everyone thought he was. he was a very typical girl dad, he was making breakfast for his kids every morning, doing their hair, but he was also that type of man to pull your hair very hard when you were alone. and y/n loved it. every second of it.

their relationship was perfect, y/n loved waking up next to him almost every morning, she moved in really quickly. it wasn't even strange for the girl, they accepted it, after all annie and bea loved having y/n around.

one night y/n and bucky put the girls to bed earlier, because they planned a dinner. bucky cooked and prepared everything and all y/n had to do was to just look pretty when everything was ready.

"god, angel, you look stunning." was what bucky said when he saw y/n in her short, black dress. they ate their dinner, had some red wine and since it was warm summer they left home to sit outside. the moon looked marvelous and y/n looked even more beautiful in it's light.

it didn't took much for bucky to start kissing her. first her lips, then her neck, her exposed cleavage. y/n started breathing faster and then he dropped on his knees and rolled her dress up. first he was kissing y/n's thighs, then his lips were on her already wet panties. her noises were getting louder, then bucky took off her underwear. his lips were soft at first, teasing her, but when she buckled up her hips to him that was a sign he had no idea he was waiting for. bucky's tounge was making her more and more wet and she was only getting louder. her hands ended up in his long hair, pulling them hard when he added fingers to his ministrations.

"c'mon sweetie, you are making really cute noises, but you can be louder than that... girls are sleeping inside you can be as loud as you can." he hummed, his lips still so close to your aching pussy. it was hard being quiet with this man, he was making y/n feel like she was floating with his fingers and tounge alone. after her first orgasm they moved to their bedroom. they ended up naked a second after the door closed behind them. lips and hands were everywhere. their bodies so close, lots of moans and gasps. it was a perfect mix between soft love making and rough fucking and it made y/n lost her mind. at some point bucky covered her mouth.

"shh... we are not outside anymore, girls are sleeping next door, you have to be quiet now, doll." he whispered into her ear as he bit it. he was moving inside her with a steady rythm. her hands were on his back, nails in his skin leaving marks, it wasn't long before y/n finished again. when bucky wanted to move she wrapped her legs around him.

"no, please, i want to feel you..." she purred in the croock of his neck. he hapilly obliged. and that's how they both fell asleep. bodies tangled together, their breaths steady and calm and the whole life ahead of them. maybe with more than just two kids in the future...

[zae-heeyyy]

Aegis

Summary: You defend your daughter from Micah. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,810 Tags: fluff, family, girl dad Arthur, angst, high honor Arthur Warnings: Violence, mistreatment of a child

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an: This was an anon request. I was weary about this one because I'm not a mom, nor do I spend a lot of time around toddlers, but omg exploring girl dad Arthur was so fun! Shout out to @emerald-ranch for helping me with a horse fact for this one! Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

Aegis: as in protection, means or method of defending

A pair of hazel eyes cut through the dark, shining like twin stars burning holes in the blanket of night. Those usually bright supernovas seemed dull now, washed out by the weight of the world. Your daughter's tiny form scooted in impossibly closer, and you bundled her up, swaddling her like she was still the wiggling newborn you'd held in your arms three years ago.

"Bea," you sighed, trying your best to shield her from the beast that was your frustration. Exhaustion had settled in your bones hours ago, pressing your patience paper thin. Sleep called out to you from the void, and you wanted so badly to answer, but your daughter reeled you back every time.

"I want Daddy," she whined, clutching the fabric of your shift in her little fists. 

You missed him too; she had no idea. In a time that seemed like forever ago, you and Arthur laid in this same cot, your fingers tangled in his shirt in the way your daughter's were in yours now. Motherhood terrified you, and after telling Arthur you were pregnant, you cried all through the night. Raising a child was daunting enough, but doing it with an outlaw in a gang seemed like a nightmare turned reality. 

Solid arms held you together in body and mind. He was your rock even though he was going through his own quiet panic. Arthur knew the harsh realities of parenthood all too well. Still, he knew the brightness, blooms, and blossoms it could bring, and he let himself want it more than anything. Making good on his second chance at having a family, he married you right away and devoted all of himself to you and the baby.

That warm summer night after your screams and her cries had died down, he bowed his head over her, staring without a word. First, one salty tear fell from his face and onto the blanket you'd knitted for her, then another, and another. You tried to offer him the dignity of silence, but your tears burst out with a sob. It was only then that he spoke, snapping out of his baby-induced trance, his eyes wide with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong at all."

And his baby loved him oh so much, the very definition of a daddy's girl. He was the one who protected her from spiders and wasps, the one who made her giggle til her face turned red, the one who'd lift her up on his shoulders and run amok through camp, and the one who snuck her candy when she thought you weren't looking. He was her Polaris, and little did she know, she was his entire universe. Leaving both of you at camp, even if only for a few hours, chipped away at a piece of his soul every time. In the present, you combed your fingers through her light-colored hair and kissed her on the head twice–one from you and one from Daddy, as you always told her.

"I know. He'll be here when we wake up, honeybee."  

And the tent fell silent, but your daughter twisted and shivered, unsettled by passing footsteps.

"Momma…" Her words came out smaller than her. "M'scared."

You wanted to tell her there was nothing to be afraid of, but you couldn't lie to her–not when there was a price on her father's head, not after Blackwater, and not after Colter. In yet another attempt to calm her, you whispered soft shhs. But then she spoke once more, a single word–a name, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Micah."

You sat up with the quickness of a startled doe, sweeping your eyes over your daughter. Tears stained her rosy cheeks, but she was otherwise unharmed.

"What about Micah?" The question came out more urgent than you'd intended, and she hid herself in your bosom. You hoped she didn't hear your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. 

"Don't want him to come here."

"Why'd he do that?"

She only shook her head. You peeled her away from you, wiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs before cupping her face in your hands. Your voice was loving but firm–a quiet, motherly demand.

"Bea. Talk." 

She vocalized as best as she could: "He's scary and mean."

And then, after a long pause, her small hand came to rest over yours on her cheek.

"He touched my face."

A curtain of red-hot wrath veiled your vision, and it took everything in you to hide it from the baby in your arms. No matter how big she got, she would always be that pink, wrinkly baby in the knitted blanket. You put on a stellar performance, eyes twinkling, your smile adding light to the darkness that'd settled over you. You reassured her that Daddy and Uncle Dutch would take care of that, that she had a whole family looking out for her, and that she was safe. 

In one last attempt to get her to settle, you laid back down, closed your own eyes, and began a slow hum of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." In the middle of the second run-through, she'd gone limp, finally.  You tried to follow suit, but your thoughts were louder than ever. 

Arthur'll be back soon.

Let the men dish it out. 

Get some sleep, get some sleep, get some sleep.

But your legs swung over the cot, and you left your eaglet behind in the nest as you soared into camp, sharp eyes scanning for your prey–a rattlesnake masquerading as a man. The drunk bastard saw you coming, flashing his fangs in a smug display of mockery. He didn't expect the beer bottle he'd been nursing to explode across his head, the glass shattering like a storm of meteors crashing down to earth. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, and you were on top of him in an instant in the only way you'd ever be–out for blood. A blackhole temporarily swallowed both of you as you slammed your forehead into his with all the force of two colliding planets. 

The shockwave drowned out everything around you–so much so that you didn't hear someone shout for Arthur and didn't notice your husband had returned just before you left the tent. Micah fought back hard, trying in his intoxicated stupor to twist free, but you had him good, your nails like talons breaking skin and cutting off his air supply.

An owl-like screech tore through your lungs as two strong hands yanked you away. Your husband's eyes locked onto yours, grounding you, clearing the haze of fury. Time seemed to slow as you saw yourself reflected in concerned chrysocolla-colored eyes.

"Hey now, hey, easy…"

Just when he thought he'd calmed his distressed mare, the snake hissed in the grass.

"Get control of your whore, Morgan!"

"Arthur," you caught his attention, him looking from Micah back to you, "Beatrice." 

At hearing his daughter's name, Arthur bared his teeth and dug his nails into his palm. Without thinking, he shoved you aside, and you knew if you let him get to Micah, all hell would break loose. Roles reversed, you grabbed at his sleeve with both hands, pushing your weight into your heels to keep him in place. Micah started a mocking chortle. 

"That seed of yours." He tried once again to rise up on his feet, "Ain't much hope for her. She'll let fellas buy her for a penny just like her momma."

His taunting stung enough for you to temporarily lose hold of Arthur, and he took his chance, sending the metal tip of his boot flying into Micah's chin. The devil incarnate spit out blood and chipped bone and let out a hoarse, guttural bellow of pain, but he didn't try to stand anymore. 

"Lucky she got to you first." Arthur spat, "I ain't stopping her next time."

Your husband stomped off with his arm around your waist, back to your lion's den where your cub was still sleeping soundly. Collapsing onto the cot, you dug your palms into your eyes, trying to ease the pressure of a building headache. Lantern light came into your field of vision as Arthur's calloused fingers pried your hands away. 

"That was stupid," he whispered, aware of Beatrice still sleeping. One hand clutched your chin, and the other moved your hair out of your face to get a good look at you, "I woulda' handled it."

The cold sting of a wet cloth against your bruises made you wince. 

"I know. Couldn't help myself."  

Arthur didn't say anything else and finished cleaning you up in silence. Though the presence of your family back together brought you a semblance of peace, you twisted the gold band around your finger, lost in hellish thoughts. You and Arthur made promises to each other and to your little girl, and you'd make good on them, no matter the cost.

"I'll kill him next time."

Arthur had stripped down to his union suit and nodded at you as he took his hat off and set it beside the photo of your daughter's namesake.

"I know."

Then, his face lit up. He stopped your fidgeting by taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Deep down, he knew you had it in you, but something about his wife, the sweetest thing he'd ever met, nearly ripping a man's head off his shoulders with her bare hands, struck a cord of pride within him. 

"Though I don't think anybody in their right mind would tempt you after seein' that."

And you felt embarrassed of your wild display of maternal ferocity. But Arthur, in all his tenderness and love for you, made all your doubt vanish.

"That's my girl," he whispered, holding his hands out.

You let him hoist you up into his warm embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest and rhythmic heartbeat could've lulled you to sleep right then and there. This closeness had become a delicacy since parenthood, and you savored every bite. Arthur sighed contently as he breathed in the scene before him. Though you were buried in his chest, you knew he was looking over at his sleeping baby girl while he was hugging you.

"Maybe one day she can spend the night with Abigail and Jack, and we can have some husband and wife time." 

You hummed in agreement, tempted to let your limbs fall weak in his arms. The sounds of rustling blankets woke you right back up.

"Daddy?" 

Arthur didn't let you go. Instead, he squeezed you harder, a silent thank you for the life you'd birthed, the life you'd given him. He guided you back to the cot beside your daughter, tucking both of you in and pressing a soft kiss to your foreheads.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm here," were the last words you heard before soaring serenely off the cliff of consciousness. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hi lady! Can you please do more baby daddy rafe!? 🥰

daddy-daughter date

summary: Rafe takes Bea (your guys daughter) to go golfing with him while you hang out with your friends.

A/n: finally came up with a name for his daughter 😩 idk it’s really random and shit.

warnings: none. All fluff!! Unedited.

RAFE MASTERLIST

He slung the bag over his shoulder, listening to you talk to Beatrix behind him. He turned around, quirking an eyebrow and adjusting the cap on his head.

“You ready, bea?” He asked the girl, her turning and looking at him with a smile and nod.

“You two have fun, yeah?” You said, leaning in to kiss him. He cupped your cheeks, you smiling against his lips when you pulled away.

Your daughter stared at you two, pretending to barf. “Ew!” She exclaimed, making the two of you turn to her with smiles.

“Oh, yeah?” Rafe said, raising his eyebrows. He smirked, looking back at you. You both kissed more, while she covered her eyes with her hands. You giggled at her antics, looking back at her and ruffling her hair.

“Love you guys.”

“Love you, mommy.” She told you, beaming. Rafe grabbed her hands, intertwining his large ones with her tiny, chubby ones.

She had her own tiny club in a tiny bag, she carried it, wobbling with each step she took. He made it over the the cart, putting both bags in the back as he made it over to an empty, easier hole for her.

“Alright, baby, you ready?” He asked when he stopped the cart and helped her out as well, although he seemed even more eager than she did.

He grabbed the bags, pulling out the clubs from them, giving her the tiny one and him taking his own.

“Okay…” he sighed out, swinging it around, and putting it on his shoulder as he walked. She followed him, trotting along in her little matching polo, shorts and hat. Dressed just like Rafe was.

“C’mere.” He motioned for her to go where he stood, close in front of a hole. She went over, looking up at the man. “Copy my stance, ‘kay?”

She nodded and he widened his stance, she followed his movements. “Keep your toes straight.” He noted, and she nodded, fixing it. “Now, just slightly bend your knees. Not too much.”

“Just stay like that. You’re doing great.” He complimented, moving to the back of her. He held his club out in front of hers, she looked up at his hands.

“Okay, so…” he continued, teaching her the proper grip and ball distance, along with everything else she needed. “And now you just…” he moved the club back, looking at the hole in front of him. Since it wasn’t far, all it needed was a light push. He swung the club, and it went straight to the hole.

“See? Easy. You try.” He told her, backing up and looking down to see her in awe of his skill. She looked down at the ball, remembering everything she told him, and swung the club, the ball going straight into the hole with his.

He watched her, smiling proudly at her. “Hey! You did it! First try!” He exclaimed, holding his hand out for a high five. She gladly slapped his hand, smiling and jumping. They both went back to the cart and to another hole, this time going out a little further.

“You’re a lil natural, huh? Next thing you know, in a few years you’re gonna be beating me.” He told her when they got into the cart and drove back to the club, turning his head to her with a smile on his face.

“Yeah!” She giggled happily, soft smile still on his face when he turned back.

Beatrix hugged your legs when she saw you back at the house, you smiling and laughing at her. “Hey, Bea, you have fun with daddy?” You asked her, leaning down, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah! I got 3 in! And daddy said I’m good enough to beat him one day!!”

“Did he?” You asked with a quirked eyebrow, looking at your husband walking back in.

He shook his head, mouthing a “nah.” to you.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed.

[oneforthemunny]

autumn changes |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie take bea to the farmer's market to pick out a pumpkin.

still on my fall shit lol. feeling hormonal and longing for a child, so a domestic soft dad!mafia!eddie x mom!reader fic was in order bc i said so lol. very fluffy and sweet.

“What about the big white ones?” You pointed across the aisle, stepping towards the wooden crate filled with ‘Cinderella Pumpkins’ as the chalk sign read. 

“Oh, look at these Bea, you know what they call these?” You cooed at the little toddler, bouncing her lightly on your hip, her cheek pressed to your shoulder, knuckling her eyes sleepily. The three year old was still a little grumpy about being woken up from her car ride nap. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, closing in on you, eyes scanning the crowds. “Stay close to me, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes. “We’re right here, Eddie.” Your tone clipped, shoulders tight with irritation. You knew his protectiveness came from a place of love, pure adoration and devotion for you and Bea both. Still, it was irritating. 

Eddie’s narrowed gaze pierced through you, even behind his darkened sunglasses. A tattooed hand sliding over your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in warning, the same way he used to when you two had first started dating. It sent a chilling thrill of excitement to your core, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small grin. 

“Look, Bumble Bee, these are called Cinderella Pumpkins.” Your voice lifted in a soft coo that had Eddie’s chest tightening with affection. 

“Princess?” Bea’s eyes lit up, perking up from her sullen state at the mention of one of her beloved Disney Princesses. Though she was favoring Jasmine these days, she was still a fan of any of them. 

“Mhm,” You hummed, holding her close to your chest. “What do you think, should we get those?” 

“Yes,” Bea wiggled, trying to push out of your arms, ready to get down and run around. “Get-Get the big one, Mommy.” She pointed a finger over towards the rather large white pumpkin on the ground. 

“The big one?” You gasped lightly, bouncing her on your hip so she shook with laughter, giggles trilling out in a soft screech. 

“You gotta ask Daddy if we can get the big one.” You muttered lightly, turning towards Eddie. “He’s the one who’s gotta carry it.” 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, your cheek pressed to Bea’s, face to face; the two of you looked so alike. He always told you that. You’d roll your eyes, scoff and insist she was his twin, but he saw more of you in her every day. 

“Can we get the big one, Daddy?” Bea reached for Eddie, practically launching herself in his arms. “Please? I asked really, really nicely.” She curled into him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, looking up at him with big brown eyes rounded so sweetly- a look she definitely got from you. 

“You did ask nicely, thank you.” Eddie hummed, running a hand over her messy hair, tangled from the wind. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want one or two for the porch?” He looked at you, already reaching for his wallet in the back of his jeans. 

“Probably two. I can put them on either side of the door.” Eddie passed you his wallet, keeping a careful eye on you as you walked to the front to pay. He scanned the crowds again, letting Bea babble away to him about the different things she saw, humming in response lightly as he watched. Eddie knew Gareth was lurking around somewhere, no doubt scanning the crowds just as he was. 

“Hey, Ed,” You called, breaking him from his trance. “She said they have wheelbarrows you can borrow to load them to the car if you want.” 

“Oh,” Bea squealed, turning towards Eddie so quickly she almost hit him in the face. “Can I ride in the wheelbarrow?” 

“Ride in the wheelbarrow?” You parroted with a grin. “Why do you wanna ride in that, hm? Are you a pumpkin now?” 

“Nooo,” Bea giggled, leaning back to look at you. “I just wanna ride in it.” 

You eyed her playfully. “Hm, maybe if you ask nicely.”  

“Please?” Bea added quickly, already squirming to get out of Eddie’s arms, sending his heart lurching with panic. 

You didn’t seem bothered, pulling the wheelbarrow off the ground, maneuvering it towards the pumpkins. “Fine, but let me load these in first, ok?” 

“Let me get them.” Eddie clicked, reaching a hand out to stop you before you could wrangle the obnoxiously large pumpkin up. “I got it, baby. You hold her.” He passed Bea to you, bending down to lift the pumpkin, hoping his rings didn’t stab it like last time. 

“Are you going to help me decorate when we get home?” You cooed to Bea, swaying her lightly like you did when she was a newborn. You knew she was too old, all the parenting books told you that, but it was a habit- one that soothed the both of you. 

“Yes,” Bea grinned, curling in closer to you. “I’ll help you, Mama. We can put the bats up.” 

Eddie’s heart burst with warm joy at her soft sing-songy voice. For all his hesitation and terror about having a baby, he never knew he could love something so much. From the moment she was born, all seven pounds of screaming baby, he’d been so overwhelmed with a feeling of adoration he couldn’t begin to explain. Everyday it seemed to grow, for the both of you- his girls. 

Bea settled on top of the pumpkins, gripping the sides as Eddie pushed slowly over the graveled parking lot, her tiny giggles and squeals of laughter leaving you both beaming with pride. 

“Mama,” Bea turned, leaving both you and Eddie cringing in fear, for a moment, scared she would fall. “Can we make the pun’kins into carriages like on the real Cinderella?” 

“Sure, baby. I think we can craft that.” You smiled, speed stepping to stand beside her, a hand on her back to steady her. 

“We can put bats on them too so-so it’s scary.” Bea giggled. “Right? Because Halloweens ‘sposed to be scary, right, Daddy?” She turned to look at Eddie over her shoulder. 

“That’s right.” Eddie grinned, making his way towards the sleek black car in the parking lot- bigger than the luxury sports cars he had in the past. Safer now and bigger for a baby, his baby. 

You lifted Bea out of the wheelbarrow, carrying her around towards the backseat to buckle her into place, while Eddie loaded the pumpkins in. The car ride back was much louder than the one there, Bea babbling on and on to you and Eddie about Halloween, her costume, the decorations, what candy Grandpa Wayne would have this year. 

Eddie held your hand in between the console, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. He let himself feel at peace, safe in the serenity of the car with his family. 

[bumblingbabooshka]

Older Tuvoks

[ferrarifudds]

Truly Madly Deeply. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Bff!reader

Summary: When a spontaneous evening hangout with your best friend Ollie reveals everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Word Count: 2.5k

Vera’s Voice! Truly Madly Deeply by One Direction is the song ever so argue with the wall!!!! Hiiiii :3 first tumblr post ever. If it’s bad. Sorry. Idk.

& Hello. Shoutout Enya. Shoutout Bea.

Mindlessly reading a book in your swinging net chair hung in your room, your legs were crossed beneath your body as you hopelessly read about childhood soulmates.

Your heartbeat was gradually beating faster as you approached the page where the boy finally realizes he's been in love with his best friend the entire time.

Sitting at the edge of your seat, your body fluttered with butterfly’s, envying every single line your eyes followed among the pages.

But it’s too bad you were interrupted.

“Hi!” Ollie barged in unannounced, catching you so off guard that you stumble out of your seat and fall onto the floor.

You sat there for a brief second, trying to process and understand what was happening. Who just came into your room unannounced and why does it sound like Ollie? He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week? He had told you the night before he would be with Prema for a few more days..

But then it clicked— it really was him?

Looking up, you were met with Ollie’s signature grin, his curly hair seemed slightly damp, presumably from a shower. He was leaning against your doorframe like he had every right to be there, as if barging into your space without warning was completely justified.

“Miss me?” He teased, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.

You scrambled to your feet, heart hammering in your chest—not because of the book anymore, but because of him.

“What the hell?” You managed to sputter, clutching the paperback like it might steady you. “You’re supposed to be in Italy?!” He laughed. "Well, I lied. So I can surprise you."

Before you could even process the weight of his words, he was already closing the space between you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, familiar hug. It was so him—effortless, comforting, grounding. And, as always, it left you speechless.

You found yourself hugging him back instinctively, burying your face in his sweatshirt, which smelled faintly of pastries and whatever cologne he always wore. For a moment, it was easy to forget the world outside of this.

Just you and Ollie, like it had always been.

“I've missed you,” He murmured against the top of your head, his voice soft.

Your stomach flipped. His words were light, nonchalant, but there was something in the way he said you that made you pause.

"Missed you too." You smiled.

As you pulled away, Ollie’s arms dropped to his sides, but the grin on his face only grew wider. His eyes flicked down to the book still clutched in your hands, his curiosity piqued.

“What are you reading?” He asked, leaning a little closer, his head tilting just enough to catch a glimpse of the cover.

You shook your head. “Nothing important!” Your voice was obviously guilty of something, your hands clutching the book tighter as you took a step back.

Ollie's brow quirked, his grin turning mischievous. “Nothing?"

You huffed, knowing you weren’t going to get out of this easily. “It’s just… a romance novel…”

His eyes lit up at that, a teasing smile turning downright devilish. “Oh, now I have to know,” He said, lunging forward with zero warning.

“Don’t you dare!” You shrieked, spinning around to shield the book, but it was too late. Ollie was faster, plucking it clean out of your hands and jumping back like a kid who’d just won a game of tag.

“Ollie!” You groaned, reaching for it, but he held it high above his head, flipping open to a random page.

His eyes scanned the lines quickly, and then he froze, his grin somehow widening further. “‘The boy looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky,’” He read aloud, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. Then, he glanced down at you, his expression ridiculously smug. “What’s this? A little wishful thinking?” "You're such an ass! Please stop." You were more than embarrassed at this point. You were mortified.

Ollie wasn’t done teasing. “You’re blushing,” He pointed out, his tone light but insufferably smug.

“I am not!” You snapped, snatching the book back from his hands and threw it across your room.

“Oh, you totally are. Don’t worry, though.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some huge secret. “If it helps, I don’t think childhood soulmates are that unrealistic.”

Your heart stuttered, his words sending a confusing wave of butterflies through your stomach. But before you could respond—or even fully process what he’d just said—he straightened, clapping his hands together.

“Anyway,” He said, his tone abruptly casual, “We’re wasting precious daylight here.”

You blinked at him, completely thrown off. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on.” He grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you toward the door.

“Wait—what? No! I never agreed to go anywhere!” You tried to dig your heels into the carpet, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Resistance was futile when it came to Ollie, and you both knew it.

“You don’t have to agree,” He said breezily, tugging you along like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m your best friend. I’m basically entitled to hijack your evening whenever I feel like it.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, reluctantly following him.

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Debatable.”

By the time you reached the stairs, you’d given up the fight entirely. At least you were dressed enough to leave the house—not that Ollie would have cared either way.

“Can I at least know where we’re going?” you asked as you descended the stairs, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Going somewhere?” Yourmom called from the family room, where she was cuddled up on the couch with your dad.

“Just the beach,” Ollie answered with an easy smile, not missing a beat.

Your mom chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Why did I even ask? Have fun, you two!”

As soon as you were out of the house, Ollie released your wrist and started walking ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Slow down! What’s your rush?” you asked, jogging slightly to catch up with him.

He slowed his pace to let you fall into step beside him, the warm summer air wrapping around you both. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting the street in hues of gold and orange.

“No rush, you've just got slow legs,” He said casually, glancing over at you with a grin that told you otherwise.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is a high-performance racing driver." A scoff escaped from your lips.

He chuckled at your jab, his grin only widening. "And not everyone has the luxury of doing nothing all day."

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. “It is not nothing,” You said, nudging your shoulder into his. “I did a lot. You know, during your absence.”

The way he raised an eyebrow caught your attention. "Oh? And what was that exactly?" He asked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity.

You shrugged, not wanting to admit how much you’d missed his company. “You know, homework, mostly. Reading.” You grinned slightly, waving your hand dismissively, though it was clear from the slight flush creeping up your neck that there was more to it.

The conversation drifted into silence for a moment as you both kept walking down the street. The sky above you was gradually darkening, the golden hue of the sunset slipping into soft pinks and purples.

You glanced at him, catching that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but this time, it felt like it held something more.

Was he acting this carefree to mask something? Was it just his usual self, or was there something he was hiding?

You didn’t know, but the two of you continued walking. The way his stride matched yours, the subtle glances he stole when he thought you weren’t paying attention—it all felt too intentional to be just casual.

You both arrived at an ice cream shop that sat near the shore, and Ollie was quick to order your favorite flavor—Stracciatella. It was such a small thing, but it made your heart skip. He knew you too well.

Soon, you followed him toward the shore, settling down on the rocky sand, the two of you enjoying your ice cream as the sun began to sink lower into the sky. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing filled the space between you, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed.

The casual silence between you and Ollie was comforting, but it didn’t stop the undercurrent of tension that lingered. You could feel his presence beside you, the warmth of his shoulder just brushing against yours. But neither of you said anything. It was almost like you didn’t need to.

You glanced at him again. There was something unspoken in the air—something he wasn’t saying, but you knew. You didn’t have to hear it to feel it. Ollie was always so easygoing, but now, there was a quiet heaviness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before.

Without a word, he gently draped his arm around you. It was the kind of gesture that had become second nature to him, but tonight it felt different—weighted with something unspoken. You leaned into him slightly, the warmth of his touch grounding you, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, thick enough that you could almost taste it. Neither of you spoke, but both of you felt the quiet, pulsing energy between you that had always been there but was now somehow heavier.

You didn’t look at him—you couldn’t, really. If you did, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stop the fluttering in your chest. Instead, your gaze remained fixed on the fading light of the sunset, trying to steady your breath. But Ollie, ever perceptive, seemed to sense your unease.

After a moment, he spoke softly, breaking the silence, his voice carrying the same calm, measured tone it always did, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made you turn your attention to him, even before he continued.

“There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while.”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. He kept his gaze on the horizon, his voice softer now, almost as if speaking the words aloud made them more real.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” He said, his words barely above the sound of the waves. “More than I should, maybe.”

Your breath hitched, heart skipping a beat. “Thinking about me?” You echoed, not sure if you were imagining it.

“Yeah,” Ollie said, glancing over at you, his eyes serious but soft. “Especially, when I'm away." He let out a sigh from his nose, "Evert race weekend, every meeting, every day, I can’t stop thinking about you." "Ollie.." He ignored your attempted interruption, wanting to pour his heart out first. "I could be in the middle of complete chaos, but all I would really want is for you to at least be there—to be the one I can hug and celebrate with, or even be there for you because I always miss your important events.” He was rambling.

“No matter what’s happening, it’s you that’s always on my mind.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, his words sinking deep into you. He wasn’t just talking about the races; he was talking about you. About how much he wanted you by his side, how much you meant to him.

“And every time, when the day is all over,” He continued, his voice growing more confident, “I just wish you were at least there next to me. All the time. Just... sharing everything with me. You know?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heartbeat. You had always been there for Ollie, cheering him on from home, or occasionally on the sidelines if you had a break from schooling to join him at a race, but you never imagined this—never imagined that he was feeling this way too.

“You know I’m always here for you, Ollie,” You said softly, leaning in a little closer, your voice barely above a whisper. Although his message was clear, a smidge of uncertainty still lingered.

He smiled, his eyes locking with yours, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I know. But... it doesn't feel right yet? Not when I don’t have you the way I want.”

“The way you want?” You echoed softly, your brow furrowing slightly, trying to make sense of the weight of his confession.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering from yours. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but beneath it, you could see the genuine emotions he was holding back, the ones he wasn’t used to showing. “I keep thinking that maybe there's a possibility to be... something more. But every time I want to say it, I’m not sure if it’s the right moment or if you feel the same way.”

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, something between excitement and nervousness. The way he was speaking—so raw and open—made your heart race. You had been waiting for this, but never expected it to come like this.

“And what do you mean by more?” You asked, your voice barely more than a breath, your eyes searching his. Ollie nodded slowly. "Like.. being your boyfriend?" He said nervously, slowly glancing at you, looking into your eyes.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat as his words hung in the air, so simple yet so full of meaning. The vulnerability in his voice made your heart thud against your chest. He was sitting there, uncertain, yet laying his feelings bare for you to see.

“Really?” You whispered, barely able to believe it. The question had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for so long, but hearing him say it out loud made it feel real. Made everything feel real.

He looked at you, his face flushed, eyes filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. “I know it might sound mad, but… I just… always think about the idea of us. Maybe I’ve been afraid to say it because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. But it doesn’t feel right, just being friends when… when all I really want is more than that.”

Your mind was about to explode. You had thought about this moment for so long, imagined it in countless ways, but never imagined it could feel this raw, this real. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the weight of his words making everything around you seem to slow down.

“Ollie,” You whispered, your voice trembling just slightly. You didn’t have to think twice, didn’t need to wonder if this was what you wanted. You had known for so long that it was him.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you interlocked your arm around his. “It's about time you said something."

He smiled, his lips twitching into a nervous grin, his eyes still locked with yours, searching for something—some sign of what you were feeling.

But you didn’t even need to search. You already knew what you felt. You had known for so long, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You took a deep breath, your chest tightening with the weight of everything you had been carrying.

“I’ve always loved you,” You said softly, almost like a confession you had been keeping locked away for too long. You felt the words settle in the space between you, like they belonged there. “More than anything.” “Truly, madly, deeply.”

comments , likes , & reblogs are appreciated ! ^_^ had fun writing this one even tho i’m not the biggest fan :P

tags! @planetpedri & @halfwayhearted ofc.

[jinmindeulle]

die with a smile | jeon wonwoo

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 4.1 k

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 angst, fluff

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 well, it's the end of the world and walkers (zombies) are around --- but nothing too sad happens here!

this piece was highly inspired in the song that gives it its title and one of my favorite shows before they ruined it --- the walking dead.

When they said the end of the world was close, naturally, you didn’t believe it. It had happened multiple times throughout your lifetime, so you knew it would be no different.

Except it was.

Although it was hard to keep track, you estimated that chaos had erupted about five years ago. It had been a pretty normal day — and your birthday.

You had woken up to your alarm clock and your mother’s smile, congratulating you with a small chocolate cupcake covered in pastel pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles, with a white candle already lit. She had sung Happy Birthday with her soft voice and had waited for you to think about your wishes and blow it out. 

“Bea said she’s coming over tonight,” she had whispered as she hugged you. That was the last thing you had heard coming from her.

Because you had never seen your mum again. And your sister had never come. Only God — whether He existed or not was something you still had trouble with. How could He let this happen? — knew what their fate had been that treacherous morning.

Now, looking down at the half-cut strawberry pieces that were adorned with a single match emulating a candle, tears welled up in your eyes. You hated this, but Wonwoo had insisted, and you couldn’t find the courage to fight him. He liked to make people feel good and cared for, even when they felt like they had nothing left to do on this Earth.

“Do you think they are still out there?” you asked him, shutting your eyes and getting rid of the tears. You felt his calloused thumb caressing your right cheek, and this time, you decided to let him in — your birthdays were an emotional rollercoaster.

“We have to keep fighting. That’s the only way we'll know.” As he took your shoulder and nudged you to press against his side, you placed your head on the crook of his neck and enjoyed his warmth. It was not so bad after all. 

Because at first, you had evaded him. He had wanted to break down your walls, and you had shoved him away. You didn’t want to get attached to someone who could die the next day. Who could abandon you just like your mom and your sister had. But sometimes, in vulnerable moments like this, Wonwoo was your only comfort.

“Who is doing rounds tonight?” you asked, hanging on to the fabric of his sweater. Winter was close, and you had realized that it was getting colder and colder as the years went by.

“Either Soonyoung with Jihoon, or Jared with Gael” he whispered against your hair. “It’s been awfully quiet lately.”

“That’s no good,” you sighed, moving away from him to take a piece of the strawberries that laid in the plastic plate in front of you. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I stayed with them? I know the area better than they do, and I can dissuade walkers faster.”

“You don’t get to boss me around” he gave a soft but deep laugh and took the strawberry from your hand to shove it into his mouth “They have to learn. I will be near”

You had wanted to boss him around ever since you got to the safehouse. But to be fair, Wonwoo was too natural at it — he was deeply observant and an analyst at heart, characteristics that you lacked, which made him clearly fit for a leader role. And at that, he was extremely good. You had noticed those traits of his ever since you met him.

After everything went downhill, you had woken up laying on the floor of your bedroom, curled up under your desk. Your room had seemed to have been destroyed by an earthquake or a similar natural disaster. Your head and your jaw were hurting. You had a busted lip. Something had hit your skull and you had collapsed head first — that had been your assumption. When you called for your mother, silence had hit you.

You had tried to leave the house, but it was quite literally upside down. The door had been blocked by a concrete pillar and you had to force your sore body to climb out of the biggest window. 

No matter how dark it was, you had meant to find your mother at her workplace and, if possible, Bea at her apartment building which was on the way. 

To your surprise, both of them had been empty. The city was empty. How long had you been laying there? Where had people run to? What had exactly happened?

Fear had frozen you for hours, silently staring at your mom’s workplace building. Silence had slowly started to hurt your eardrums. The realization that you were all alone in a place that you had called your home for twenty two years had hit you, and you had collapsed, landing hard on your knees, sobbing.

Millions of questions clouded your mind as you felt your throat tightly closing up, air barely getting to your lungs. You had gasped and fisted your hands in the gravel, your breath getting faster as you tried to concentrate on each movement to finally take control.

“Hey!” 

Everything that had happened next had felt like a blur. A man — that you now know to have been Wonwoo — wearing round glasses, dressed in a baby blue shirt, dress black pants and shoes was kneeling in front of you, taking your wrists with his hands and helping you get back to your normal breathing. 

“That’s it. Breathe.”

As you look at him munching on your birthday strawberries, you silently thank whoever decided to put him in your way to help you breathe all those years ago. People had come and gone, some with good intentions, some trying to take advantage of you and your hard work to survive. But Wonwoo had stayed — he had fought to stay. And he had taken care of you even when you had treated him like trash.

“I know it’s late” you whispered, following his movements with your eyes as he cleaned up his fingers with a piece of cloth “But I’m not sleepy-”

“You’re not doing rounds” he interrupted, taking your face with his hands and staring at you “We can stay up to talk and giggle, but you are not working on your birthday” he sentenced, pressing your cheeks together.

“I cbnt tbolbk” you whined through your squished cheeks “Bwonbwoo!!”

When he bursted into laughter and finally let you go, you took your time to admire how his eyes lit up when he was happy — a rare occasion, if you may add. In times of chaos, happiness was not on the plate. 

“I’m gonna do my check ups. Finish your incredible birthday cake in the meantime” with a soft smile, Wonwoo kissed your forehead and stood up from the floor, where you had been sitting for your 12:01 surprise.

In these circumstances, getting ready to go to bed depended on how well things were going — when explorations were on the go, less people were around the safehouse, which meant that you wouldn’t be sleeping at least two nights a week to keep an eye on the surroundings. 

Children were part of your community now, and Wonwoo and the rest of the leaders had decided to double up the people that stayed alert during dark hours. The safehouse was still big enough to house everyone altogether, as he had preferred ever since the beginning. 

Leaving the building had merely started as a way to collect food and water, but as time went by, it had become a way to help people and grow the community — your community.

Tonight, however, you knew that Wonwoo had stayed back to be with you on your ‘special day’, even though there was nothing special about it. He rarely missed explorations, and when you stayed back, he trusted your safety to Seungcheol, that amazing brother-from-another-mother that he had helped a couple of months after he had found you, partnering with you as soon as he met you. But you were Wonwoo’s weakness and he wasn’t afraid of showing it to anyone, let alone you, so he had declared that he was spending the night with you. Whatever that meant. 

Laying on your back, you stared at the ceiling. On the rare occasions that Wonwoo decided to accompany you, he had been silent. By that point, you knew each other like no one else, but there were parts of your past lives that had remained hidden, and you both were aware of that.

One question had been caught on your throat for quite some time, and as he came back to your side and laid next to you on the mattress on the floor, you put your weight on the left side of your body and supported your head with your hand to look at him.

“Everything alright?” You asked, following his movements as he mimicked you to look at you in the eye.

“Yep. The group reported a signal, they found some walkers trapped behind a fence not too far away. Took care of them. Now they are on the food quest” his voice was low, signaling that people were already asleep. The small rooms were one next to the other, so quietness was a must during rest hours. 

“Any news on Chan?” 

“Nothing” he shook his head, softly taking a strand of hair out of your face “It’s like the Earth swallowed him” 

You felt how your eyes flooded with tears, and at the mere sight of your sadness, Wonwoo brought you close to his chest. “I hope he’s okay”

Chan was like a little brother to you. You had found him trapped on a roof, trying to get away from the then new threat — the walkers. You were still figuring out what they were, how they behaved, and most importantly, how to get rid of them. But by that time, some things were clear — walkers, or the dead, as some people called them, were looking for people who were alive to turn them into one of theirs; movement (and smell?) triggered them; aiming at the head was the safest way to get them over with.

Chan was surrounded by them, but thankfully, your group outnumbered the walkers, and all of you had weapons.

You had been the first to get to him and offer some water before you ran to the exit, where Wonwoo waited for you with his rifle ready to shoot. The youngster had held your hand all the way, and he had spoken to you and you only. After you had safely gotten to the building you had recently started to call ‘home’, Chan hardly ever left your side. 

But the only time he did, you never saw him again.

“I bet he is. He was getting better everyday” he whispered, caressing your hair. “He even started using my rifle. That’s a wild move coming from him”

“You never let anyone touch it. Not even me”

“Chan needed confidence. I’m glad I let him.” You sighed and slid your arm around his waist, getting closer to Wonwoo’s body warmth. “Woah. That’s new” he gave a small smile, welcoming your touch with a caress to your cheek. You never showed signs of wanting physical contact, so you were as surprised as him. 

“I guess turning twenty seven is making me clingier… and more curious” 

“I like that.” Wonwoo nodded, placing a hand on your waist. “What are you curious about?”

You slowly took your arm away from his body and hugged his hand with yours, caressing his fingers with a newly found confidence “Your ring”

When you heard Wonwoo sigh, you understood that that was a sensitive topic. He had let you brush his fingers with yours, but he didn’t move. So you did, returning to your initial position.

“You had it on for two years. You have never used it ever since I turned twenty-four.” you started, your hand still on his “May I ask why?”

He stayed silent for some minutes, and you decided not to push him. He usually took his time to answer, especially when he was in charge of big decisions. It seemed like this one was another one.

“I was engaged” he confessed, returning his eyes to yours. “When everything happened… She and I had a fight. I saw some things I wished I didn’t, she said some things I hoped no one ever said to me. But I was worried about her, and my heart weighed more than my brain when it came to her.”

“Were you looking for her when you found me?”

He nodded, gently squeezing your hip for support. “I was hopeful I would find her at home, but when I got there she had taken some of her basic stuff. So my only conclusion was that she had left me behind. I put two and two together”

“But… Why did you keep the ring for two years? If you knew she was being untruthful?”

“I took my time to make the decision. For how things were going, I was not gonna see her anytime soon. So every time we were not busy surviving, I just went back to what I had and analyzed every little moment, ever since we met until the day we last saw each other. I gave her a chance for two whole years. But the night of your birthday it all became clear to me.”

He slid his hand away from yours, and placed it on your cheek, giving it soft strokes. “It was the first time you had let me in. I saw you crying because I made you a birthday cake with an apple and a match. You hugged me, and clung to me. You said everything I had wished for her to have said that day. And by that, I just mean the ‘I appreciate your efforts to make me happy’ part. I realized I was not asking for a lot. She just wasn’t willing to give it to me. But you were.”

“Wonwoo…” you whispered, touched by his honesty, by his gentleness. 

“You must know by now how much I like you. I fell for you and the team we are. We work so well together. We find time to lead, to care for the community, and to come back to one another like we did at the beginning of this torn world. I am certain that you are the partner I have always wanted to have by my side. But I also know that you are not easy to fool into this romantic thing. That you have fears, that finding your family and Chan is your priority. So that’s why I have laid low, testing the waters. I just want you to feel safe around me, and come to me when you need me. I will wait forever if it means I get to have you like this from time to time”

You had sensed that he had become more and more concerned and attentive to you ever since that birthday apple cake day, but you had brushed it off as him being the responsible leader he was. You were, day by day, less hopeful to find your mom and sister alive, so he had naturally been by your side on those harder days. You just never realized Wonwoo had been looking at you with heart eyes from that moment on.

When you opened your mouth to speak, he interrupted you “You don’t have to say anything now”

“But I want to” you nodded, placing your hand in his, still on your cheek. “I am a little taken aback, not gonna lie. I thought you were just being you.” you chuckled “You know me so well that you are aware of my fears and priorities, and I appreciate you considering my feelings before advancing. But… I lost a mother, a sister, and Chan. He was here, and the next day he wasn’t. How would I keep on living if something ever happened to you? If my partner suddenly disappeared, leaving me and all these people behind? My heart won’t be able to handle it, Woo” you shook your head, tears already making their way down your skin, and your hands. “I don’t want to lose a boyfriend” 

“You won’t lose me” he brought you back to his chest, legs tangling with yours “I promise, y/n. I have fought for this community and for us for a long time. I want this to work out so we can get our lives back, but I don’t want any of this if you’re not gonna be with me every step of the way”

“I will always be here, Wonwoo”

“You know what I mean. I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself any longer. I want to kiss you whenever I want to. To have the right to call you mine. To hold you and lay here with you. To give you some hope for the future.”

The way your body fit with his and seemed to not want to let go anytime soon gave you the idea that you had always wanted him like that too. The panic that you felt every time he left for an exploration and the relief that travelled down your spine when you saw his smile flashing through the entrance on his way to hug you was making sense now. But that same panic was the one keeping you at bay — if you started loving him a little more than you already did, the day he never again walked across that door, just like happened with Chan, was going to come. And you would lose the only reason you had to wake up everyday in this fucked up world. 

“Can you let me think about it?” you asked, afraid of breaking his heart just now. 

“Of course. It’s been three hard years. I am a patient man, darling” The endearing term melted your heart, so you let yourself loose on his warm caresses, hoping this moment to last forever.

But you knew better, and in times like these, emergencies were more common than you’d like them to.

“Sorry to bother you” a voice was heard behind the thin wooden door. Jihoon “But the team is on their way back. They found Chan”

You had never ran that fast. Not even when walkers were behind you.

When Chan wrapped his freezing arms around you, you felt your heart regaining some of the life it had lost over the years.

“Happy birthday, noona” the tremble in his voice was heartbreaking and relieving at the same time. 

“Oh Chan” you sobbed, hugging him with all the care you could muster “You’re my gift”

It hurt to feel how thin he had gotten over the three weeks he had been missing, but now that he was under your care, you knew Chan was going to get better. He was your responsibility and you swore to yourself that he was never going through anything similar ever again. 

You heard as Wonwoo and Seungcheol commanded everyone around you to help in some way — getting the first aid kit, some warm food and a new set of clothes to help the young man recover his normal body temperature. 

A calloused hand hugged your shoulder and without even having to turn around, you knew Wonwoo was asking you to step back a little. 

“Wrap this around him” he handed you a blanket, and you thanked him with a small smile and tears in your eyes. 

You spent your first hours as a twenty seven year old watching Chan finally sleeping under as many blankets as you had deemed necessary, softly pressing your hand on his forehead from time to time to check his temperature. He had tolerated some warm can soup and water while one of the older girls, Savannah, had warmed some water for him to wash up.

After finally being sure that he was breathing normally and was not dying of hypothermia, you headed to Wonwoo’s small place, right next to yours. 

You saw him fast asleep, with his glasses still on and his old and torn notebook open and spread on his chest. A silver pen was lying by his hand, and you remembered how he had found it in one of your first explorations after joining the community. He had kept that in his pocket even since then. 

You didn’t want to wake him up, but at the same time, your answer couldn’t wait any longer. Chan was back. He had proved that not everyone disappears. And if they do, they eventually find their way back to you. Your mother and your sister were on their way — even if it took them years. They were out there looking for you.

And you also knew that the man sleeping in front of you was the first one to have found his way to you. He had never let you down — Wonwoo was not only physically there for you, even if it was just by lying next to you a feet apart, but he was also keeping his feelings from you in order not to put pressure on you and increase your hardships. He had given you time to see who he was to you, and to prove that you would never find anyone like him.

You would die if he died. No matter the label of the relationship you had. 

It was going to hurt the same. Because you had already fallen for him the day he had saved you.

“What are you doing here?” His question took you out of your trance, and when you saw him sitting up and rearranging his glasses to see you well, you found the courage to sit on the mattress next to him.

“Chan is sleeping like a baby. Looks like he will recover pretty fast”

“He’s young. And athletic. I’m just worried about the struggles he had out there”

“I’ll talk to him as soon as I see him ready” you nodded, looking down to your fidgety fingers.

“But that’s not why you're here for, though” 

You hated how well Wonwoo knew you. He could read you like a book and as much as you wanted to glare at him, your shyness was overpowering you.

“Mhm” you muttered, trying to find the words. “Getting Chan back got me thinking”

“I like when you think” he gave a soft smile and you had to raise your head to look at him.

“That was not a compliment, if you were thinking of it as one” you pouted.

“I have better ones, yes” he chuckled, and slowly took one of your hands in his “Stop the fidgeting. Talk to me”

You had to fight the urge to press your lips to his, because he would need an explanation first — that was how Wonwoo worked. But… maybe not this time. You really didn’t know how he would act around you as his girlfriend.

His girlfriend. Wow. That sounded great.

“What I said earlier. About you ever leaving me”

“I won’t leave you, y/n” he shook his head, eyes still bored into yours. 

“I know. And even if you did… It would hurt the same. Whether you are more than a friend or if you keep being my friend, I would cry the same. I would let myself die the same. So…”

“That’s too tragic for a love confession, darling” Wonwoo gave you a wide-eyed grin and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

“That’s me. Take it or leave it”

“I’ve been waiting exactly three years for you to let me take it. Pouring my heart out here” he wiggled the notebook on his other hand “so I didn’t have to say all that to you. So bold of you to assume that I would leave it”  

And with that, he freed his hands to cup your jaw and guide your way to his mouth. When they finally met, you felt a warm explosion in your chest — Wonwoo was gentle, caressing your lips with his to make you feel safe first. But you wanted more, and when you parted your lips, he swiftly transformed it into an open mouth kiss. 

And you melted.

“Thank you” he muttered in between kisses “Thank you”

If this was the end of the world, you were glad you had found Wonwoo before it finally ended. Maybe it had taken the Earth to collapse, and dead people to come to life in the form of zombies for you to get to the one and only man you would let in.

Even though you were still fighting to get the rest of your family back, you were sure that you would die with a smile if Wonwoo was next to you.

[pullupinarari]

hi bea! read the clingy lewis blurb and smth came in mind. just imagine reader has a routine where she would kiss lewis good morning every time he first come to her after waking up. but one day reader didnt. and well lets just say the clingy husband is coming out 🤭

a/n: another one about clingy husband Lewis because yall loved this concept apparently 😭 these blurbs are getting too long, maybe it’s time for me to get a grip 🤧 I’m posting this and I’m off to bed so I can work on my masters project in the morning. I’ll be back tomorrow with another blurb! Hope you enjoy this, mwah 🩷

It’s a routine, a tradition, whatever you want to call it. Ever since you and Lewis started dating, your ‘good morning’ kisses were something sacred that neither of you would ever give up. Whenever you two were lucky enough to spend the night together and wake up next to the other in bed, without having to rush to work, you could just enjoy being in the presence of the love of your life. You would lay in silence, just sharing sweet kisses, soft touches and taking in the feeling of gratitude for being together.

And when work would force you to stay away for a while, the morning calls were essential for the both of you - the way you could see each other’s face as soon as you would wake up, would be enough to light up your day already.

Tonight, Lewis is lying beside you, sounding peacefully asleep while one of his arms is draped over your body, hugging you close to him. However, your mind rushes, insisting on keeping you awake while you try to sleep, to get some rest.

Tomorrow morning, you have a very important work meeting, and the thought of it is making your body erupt in a pool of nerves and anxiety already, and you can’t stop thinking about it.

You don’t remember around what time you managed to fell asleep, you just remember waking up to the sensation of the warm lips of your husband caressing your collarbone gently, trailing their path until your neck. You hum slightly at the feeling at first, enjoying his touch on your body, making you dive further in the sheets.

But then, your brain wakes up, reminding you of your work meeting: your eyes shot open, checking the clock on your bedside table, and a rush of electricity runs through your blood when you realize that you are late for work already.

Immediately getting up, you run to the bathroom, trying to get ready as soon as possible, knowing that you don’t have much time left until your meeting starts.

On the bed, you left a confused Lewis, a question mark visible on his facial expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he blinks his eyes repeatedly, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Baby?” - he says from the bed. “Come back to bed?” - Lewis’ voice is sounding small, trying to understand what’s wrong with you.

“I’m late for work!” - you shout from the bathroom as you finish your hair and makeup, running to the closet to get dressed.

Your words enter your husband’s brain, the situation making more sense to him now. He lays back down, patiently waiting for you to finish getting ready so he can have his much awaited good morning kiss.

He hears you ruffling through the closet, and he sees you coming back to the bedroom to grab your phone from the bedside table. You look like a tornado, carrying your bag while you run from one side to the other, trying to gather everything you need without forgetting anything.

His eyes are trained on you, expectantly looking at your movements, waiting for you to remember him - he is right there, where you left him, and he just wants two seconds of your attention so you can give him a kiss before heading to work.

“Shit, I can’t believe I’m so late, my boss is going to kill me!” - you sigh loudly, and Lewis hears your words coming from the corridor, echoing through the space.

“See you later Lew, lunch is on you! Please take care of that” - you scream to him as you reach the front door, running to your car as you get on your way to work.

Lewis is left dumbfounded. Sinking his head into the pillow as he huffs, his lips immediately form a small pout absently as he realizes that you didn’t even bother stopping at the bedroom door, to wave him goodbye or something. You haven't even looked him in the eyes since you woke up this morning.

The man is left alone for the rest of the morning, his mind wondering if he has done anything wrong. He just got back from a work trip himself, maybe he has done something that hurt you without realizing it. Maybe that’s why you didn’t take a second of your time to kiss him, to look at him, to take in his presence - breaking your ‘good morning kiss’ tradition.

His thoughts make his heart sink, so he decides to send you a text, wishing you a good day at work and finishing his message with a heartfelt “I love you ❤️”, to which you didn’t reply.

He is feeling sad, insecure, unsure of what happened, of what to do. The only thing he knows is that he is supposed to make lunch for the both of you, so he decides to cook your favorite dish - hoping that would make up for whatever he might have done, while he patiently waits for you to come back on your lunch break.

You spend the entire morning drowning in work, not even having time to check your phone, the message that your husband sent you still waiting to be opened on your device. You let out a sigh - relieved to be home already for your break once you walk inside.

The scent of your favorite food is lingering in the air, immediately filling your senses when you reach for the kitchen. Lewis is stirring the pot in front of him while Roscoe is lying next to the fridge, who turns his head to look at you once he hears your steps.

“Hey chef” - you joke, grabbing a bottle of water before leaving the room again to put your shoes away.

Again, no kiss. What happened to the wife that would kiss her husband first thing as soon as she saw him? Lewis is starting to worry, noticing how you’re acting as if everything is fine meanwhile he is holding his heart in his hands.

He takes a deep breath, gaining the courage to talk to you once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Is lunch ready? I’m so hungry” - you say as you kneel down to pet Roscoe.

“Love?” - Lewis calls, catching your attention as you look him in the eyes for the first time today. “Can we talk?”

You nod your head. “Sure, what’s up?”

He looks down for a second, playing with his fingers before speaking up. “Did I do something wrong?” - his whispers, trying to find some answers in your facial expressions.

Your eyes widen, surprised by his question. “No baby, why? What’s wrong?” - you give him your full attention now, your body getting closer to him.

You notice the way he starts pouting, the sight being enough already to break your heart. “It’s just that… you didn’t kiss me good morning today. Or kiss me at all. And I even sent you a cute text and you didn’t reply, so I was wondering if I might have done something without realizing” - his eyes are big, laced with worry as he continued sulking, his bottom lip sticking out in the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

Your hands cup his face, remembering this morning’s events and understanding now why he feels so bad.

“Oh, Lew! I’m sorry! You did nothing wrong, I swear. I was just so nervous for this meeting that my mind never even thought about it. And I didn’t reply to your texts because I didn’t even have time to check my phone, it’s been buried somewhere in my bag since the moment I left the house” - your tone is apologetic, your face sympathetic as you find his figure so adorable, sulking because he wants your kisses.

You finally attach your lips together, caressing his cheeks while you do so, and your husband immediately wraps his arms around your shape, not letting you go for the world - deepening the kiss as much as he can, your mouths glued together until you are running out of air.

He sighs when you break the kiss, feeling a wave of relief washing over him now.

“I didn’t know what to do. I just got back home from a work trip myself and now I didn’t even get a kiss. And you left me here all morning wondering about all the small things I did!” - you chuckle at his words, shaking your head as he is saying the silliest and most non-sense words in the world.

“Stop laughing” - he forces a pout again. “I missed my wife” - the man admits, connecting your lips again, wanting to make up for all the hours he just spent without receiving any attention from you.

“Well thank god that I’m here! And I’m hungryyyy! Can we finally eat, please?” - you ask him in between pecks, knowing damn well that Lewis won’t stop kissing you unless you are forcefully distancing your bodies from each other. You know how needy your man can be.

He rolls his eyes at your words playfully. “I’m right here and you are worried about a plate of food? You could have me instead” - the cheeky tone leaving his throat matches the smirk on his face, and you can’t help but laugh at his words while reaching for the stove, getting ready to serve lunch.

He hugs you from behind, kissing your shoulder as he watches your actions. You sigh in response, feeling the way he is holding you tight while you are desperate to sit down and eat, and he notes the sound coming from your body.

“Damn, is it a crime for a man to miss his wife?” - Lewis tells you in a dramatic tone, tightening his hold on you even more playfully.

“Lewis, we are going to have lunch now-“ - he cuts you off immediately.

“I MISS MY WIFE” - your husband states again, chuckling on your skin while his lips kiss your cheek, your laugh erupting through the kitchen, already aware that you will have a lot to make up for to your clingy husband tonight.

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — sunny day (sjy)

pairing. fake bf & best friend! sim jaeyun x fem! reader genre. angst wc. 1380 notes. i'm sorry jake sucks here it's jover guys library.

🗯️ etxra peng note. hai this is for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event! guys i don't think this is my best work but i love jake & bea so i had to pick this song!! this might just be word vomit ヽ(´ー｀)

synopsis. you’re sick of the lines of jake and your fake relationship are too blurred

last night you had yet another fight with jake.

jake is your boyfriend, to everyone around you. but behind closed doors, he is nothing but your fake boyfriend. 

he asked you to do him a favor, you owed him after he helped you pass your physics final, but you didn’t think it would involve being dragged along to parties his rich parents hosted.

you both were just now graduating high school and would go your separate ways for college. which in theory sounds good for your lie, the fake relationship could end due to ‘long distance’, but it was not good for your heart.

in the past semester, you fell hard for sim jaeyun.

there was no turning back, you were in too deep. 

he was so sweet to you, in front of others, and behind closed doors. 

though, obviously you both respected each other's boundaries since your relationship wasn’t real. that was until a couple weeks ago.

jake had kissed you when he was drunk and so were you. it was a pretty heated kiss but it didn’t go any further.

unfortunately for you, you still woke up next to him in his room the morning after. 

“you’re awake,” jake breaks the silence, sitting up against his headboard. 

“i am,” you sit up next to him, rubbing your eyes. “did something happen last night?”

“um,” jake clears his throat. “jay said we kissed.”

“what?” you look at him with wide eyes. “like a lot?”

“apparently…” jake says, looking at the photo of sunghoon with you two in the background. it’s barely visible but you can see jake caging you against the wall.

“well, that’s the first and the last time,” you brush it off, stepping onto the floor.

“yup,” jake scratches the back of his neck. “let's go get breakfast.”

that wasn’t the last time. not at all.

since then you have kissed jake a total of ten times. yes, you counted. having taken note of each one and writing about what it felt like in a locked note. 

it was weird to kiss jake, but not in a weird way like you opposed it. admittedly still weird since there was no need for you to kiss. it wasn’t like the cliché movies where your friends would pressure you to kiss to prove your relationship. you even kissed when it was just you and him. 

it was rather pointless but you couldn’t help but wish he would do it every time you were together. which he did up until a couple of weeks ago.

when you two were casually sitting around you got fed up with how the lines of your strictly fake relationship were blurring. it’s not like you didn’t want to be physically affectionate with him you’ve done it all your life, but the kissing was way too much. going way over the walls of your friendship and confusing you. 

when you brought it up to him, asking what you two were even doing anymore, he lashed out. saying that he’s sorry for making you confused but something along the lines of ‘kissing you makes me less stressed’. 

then why doesn’t he just get a real girlfriend then?

though you knew if he were to stage the fake break up with you and move onto another girl you would rip your hair out at the sight. 

it was not the last time you two got into an argument.

you laid your heart out in front of jake. telling him that kissing and physical affection aren’t a what fake couples do. you were basically a real couple at this point.

he did not like it when you brought it up.

“it’s all fake ____,” he told you with his sickeningly sweet honey voice. “stop letting it get to your head.” he ruffled your hair.

at the end of each argument, you always end up in his arms. 

no matter how confusing and short-tempered jake is he never wants to be the reason you’re upset. 

today was different though.

“get out,” you tell him, eyes glued to the floor. 

“excuse me?” jake scoffs.

“you heard me,” you raise your head and attempt to smoothen your voice. “i said get out, jake.”

“you’re being ridiculous ____,” jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“i’m not,” you retort, crossing your arms. “i’m sick of this. whatever we have going on.”

“you’re just going to throw away our ten years of friendship?” he seethes.

“i don’t think is just a friendship anymore, jae!” you yell in frustration, walking towards your bedroom window, and opening it to let the fresh air in. 

“how could it not be? nothing between us has changed!” jake argues, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over his shoulders. 

“everything is different!-”

“nothing is different because this is all fake-”

“fuck off jae, you’re the one who kissed me,” you face the window and let the cool night air hit your cheeks. hoping the tears forming in your eyes would disappear. 

“it was a mistake ____,”  

“then why didn’t it stop after the first time?” you whisper, mostly to yourself but you hope he hears it too over the soft patter of the pouring rain. “just get out.”

you hear the rummaging around behind you of jake putting on his shoes. his shoulder harshly bumped against yours, as he exits through the window and into the dark and rainy summer night.

you don’t sleep at all.

in the morning you are mad at yourself. maybe he’s right, you’re too sensitive. he just kissed you, not confess his love for you. 

for the next day, you stay in your room under the covers. millions of notifications from your phone, all from none other than jake sim. 

you can’t deal with him right now, not today. maybe tomorrow, we’re okay.

while scrolling through your chats you’ve noticed that he only ever texts you at night. call in the morning when you wake. you can’t just give in to him easily no matter how bad you want to be back in his arms even if he acts like your lover one day and like he doesn’t need you the next.

he’s all you know, the only person you can one-hundred percent find comfort in. 

when you finally reach for your phone, sick of the constant vibrations, you press his contact. 

“____?” he answers in his softest voice, you break.

“i’m sorry for yesterday,” you speak, voice up an octave higher than normal. “don’t be mad at me please.” 

“i’m not mad at you,” jake pauses between his sentence and hesitates before his next word. “pretty.” that’s a new nickname.

the call abruptly ended. the shuffling from his side of the line subsided by the sounds of him ending the call. you’re so lazy to call him back, no energy to do anything but lay in your bed.

like clockwork jake’s familiar head of fluffy brown hair appears at your window. sliding it open as gently as possible and letting himself inside. 

you notice the bright sky behind him. the pretty wash of blue that differs from the storm the previous day. a sunny day.

neither of you speak as jake shakes off his sweater and shoes.

he approaches you on the bed, lifting your duvet and sliding into the vacant spot next to you, his spot. 

jake reaches out for you, arms wrapping around your waist as he moves you to settle atop his chest. resting your head in the crook of his neck and his hands in your hair. with your skin on mine again.

“you know i don’t mean it,” jake breaks the silence. “right?”

“mean what?” 

“when i kiss you,” he clarifies. “i didn’t mean for you to take it the wrong way. you’re a great girl ____, i just don’t think we’re right for each other. 

“that’s okay. i can’t imagine losing you because of a breakup,” you lie. you would take all the risks to be with jake sim for real if it meant being with him but that isn’t what your future holds. 

“so we’re good?” jake asks nervously.

“always,” you say, a smile on your face even though you know you should shut this down for your sanity. 

it’s easy if i pretend.

[pedriache]

lamine blurb where it’s ’this/it reminded me of u’ moment and readers just 😭😭😭💞💞

Art class — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Having a crush on Lamine was something a lot of people at your school experience, but he was your table mate in art, and he seemed to like you back.

Word count: 700+

Disclaimer/s: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFFFFF

A/N: art class by bea is one of my favorite songs of hers so i js had this idea!

The class was bustling around you but you sat still at your desk, fiddling with the paint brush in your hands. Lamine was late today, so that meant you had nobody to talk to. He always, without fail, talked to you. You weren’t even sure he knew your name, but the conversation’s were welcomed.

Just before the ten minute mark of class hit, the door swung open. “Sorry, Mrs.Suarez! I was talking to the principal!” He hurries to his seat across from you, sending you a quick, welcoming smile.

You return the smile, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. You quickly try to focus back in on the portrait you were doing of a picture of a flower array you’d been assigned. Unfortunately, your mind couldn’t focus. Had he changed something? Maybe is hair? He looked extra good today.

You feel Lamine looking at you as if he was hesitating to greet you. Glancing up, you meet his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Good morning?”

Lamine shifts in his seat, laughing through a short breath. “‘Morning.” He says your name, faintly. If you hadn’t been so keen on everything he said, you would have missed it.

Trying to start the painting, you are halted when he pushes something across the desk. Your attention trails to the object, your heart successfully stammering.

“I passed by a shop on the way to school, it—“ He was blushing, you had never seen him blush before, it was cute. “It reminded me of you.”

Picking up the keychain, you examine the pink cat portrayed on it. It had a white Lily beside its right ear and rosy cheeks. This had reminded him of you?

“Why?” You chuckle, finally looking up at Lamine.

The teen boy shrugs, “you said you liked cats, you wear pink a lot, and, well, remember our first project this year?” Wow, he was.. attentive?

You smile at the memory. You’d drawn a Lily for your first addition to your art portfolio. “This is so sweet.” You say quietly, your fingers rubbing over the indents of the gold outlines. “Thank you.”

“No problem—I mean, you’re welcome.” He changed his wording quickly, causing a small grin to form on your lips.

Your school crush had just given you a little gift that made him, ‘think of you’. You pause, “there’s no shops anywhere near our school.”

Oh.

Lamine swallows, okay so he’d lied. He was trying to find a gift to give you, something like a sweet gesture. He liked you, he wanted to see you smile.

“I took a different route to school today.” He shrugs, forcing himself to relax in his chair. “Do you like it, though?” Nice topic change, Lamine.

You nod, “I love it, actually. I’ll put it on my keychain when I get home, trust.” Your eyes fall back to the cat, tracing its outline with a small, endearing smile.

“Good, i’m glad.” Lamine’s eyes flicker across your face, taking in your expression. He had to make his move soon, but this was just the first step. He couldn’t be sure how you felt about him, but he was determined to get you to like him.

After you slip the keychain into your backpack, you sit back up. “There’s girls who would kill for you to give them gifts like this.” Your tone was serious, yet teasing. It was true, though. A lot of girls would do anything to have Lamine’s attention, yet for some reason, it was you he’d given it to.

“Don’t worry, you’re the only one who’s getting one.” He laughs, not realizing how much his words had affected you. Your stomach flipped and churned, your face burned. Was he flirting?

Lamine notices the slight change in your demeanor. “Sorry, was I too forward?”

You blink, “oh, you were being serious?”

“Yeah..?”

“Oh!” Your mouth twitches, “good to know.”

Lamine’s eyebrows raise slightly, “yeah?”

You hum, “yup!”

His head dips as he chuckles, a stupid smile taking over his face as he meets your eyes. “So, if I asked for your number you wouldn’t reject and humiliate me?”

Ooooooooooookay! Right. Right. Because Lamine Yamal was genuinely asking for your number.

“I most certainly would not.”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lamine posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !