#I don’t wanna answer a million questions about it

[charliesangel67]

Against all odds

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Word count- 1567

Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)

Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.

This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post

“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.

3 weeks later

There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 

The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 

As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 

“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 

“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 

“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”

“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 

“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.

They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 

A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.

A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 

“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 

Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 

I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.

“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 

“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.

That night was the best sex I ever had. 

I also got a super protective boyfriend.

I hope you guys liked this 😁

[opqrstuv04]

Feeling INTENSELY jealous of my suitemate right now bc her parents are literally helping her look for flights to visit this boy she’s been talking to for a month while I can’t even tell my folks I’ll be crashing at home to see a show because I know it will be a Thing 😑

[k-hotchoisan]

missing piece

<seonghwa x fem!Reader>

Building legos is important business and Seonghwa knows that very well when he realises he’s missing a piece.

So who would’ve thought two people attempting to search for one Lego piece would lead to other things?

genres/warnings: smut, pwp, softdom!seonghwa, missing Lego piece (don’t worry it’ll get found later), dirty talk, it’s legit teeth rotting fluff and smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, established relationship, mild choking, clit stimulation

a/n: another fic exchange with @bro-atz 😎👊🏻 it’s a competition of who can kill each other faster and we both LOSING. love u bro <3 and also finally serving you all the softdom! Seonghwa you all deserve 😛 enjoy my loves 🩷

read bro’s one here 💘

wc: 1.9K

‘A couple activity idea’—apparently the amount of countless generic couple websites would list this idea. 

Yeah, this would qualify for a couple activity idea casually, not when it seemed like a big business deal when it came to Park Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa had the ambiance set, his station ready—the Animal Crossing Soundtrack Playlist with Rain playing through the speakers, his desk clean and white—only stacked with the Animal Crossing Lego sets prepared to to be unboxed, in his favourite oversized shirt, and not forgetting you, who he dragged into his room to watch him build his little building block empire—comfortably seated across him on his bed. 

You didn’t mind watching your partner build the latest Animal Crossing Lego set he just easily blew a couple of hundred on hours before. You watched his inner child take form when he made you sit down with him to watch him unbox the first set he was gonna build, his eyes large and twinkling, just like his Animal Crossing character in-game.

Seonghwa hums softly, and it’s definitely his favourite soundtrack from the game. From time to time, Seonghwa would make the little critter noises his animal villagers would make while he fixes the animal villagers and you can’t help but giggle whenever he does the impressions. He’s finished a cherry tree, making sure he flailed his wrists to get your attention. Your lips pull to a smile when your eyes land on the pretty cherry tree he built, reflecting his satisfaction with his plump lips too. 

Then he’s back to his workstation, and you’re absorbed back into playing your switch. 

“This set is pretty easy”, you hear him comment. 

“Is it?” You reply, your attention focused on trying to slay the beast. 

“Yeah. I think I could finish this in another half an hour.” He sounds confident. 

“Good luck with that sweetheart”, you respond, your eyes trailing back to your game. 

Then midway through, Seonghwa demands your attention again, and this time you watch the way his eyes light up the whole damn room when he shows you the way the little Lego letter fits into its little Lego mailbox. Not gonna lie, it was a very adorable detail. He yaps about it for a good seven minutes before he sinks back into his building block world. 

“Now here’s the million dollar question—pink or brown for the door?” He asks, loosely fitting both coloured doors after one another 

“Pink, obviously”, you pick. Seonghwa seems satisfied with your answer, and you swear you see the little musical notes float out of him when he fixes the door onto the house. 

A couple more minutes later, you glance over at the messy pieces of Lego strewn all over Seonghwa’s table, below his half-completed Animal Crossing cottage. 

He has his cheeks puffed out, and his eyebrows knitted together while he’s carefully scanning over the table. 

“Are you missing a piece?” You ask, setting your console on the bed. 

“Yeah, I think I am”, Seonghwa mutters, his index finger pointing over each piece on the table, in hopes of finding it. 

You take the instruction booklet from his hands, skimming through the pictures before you settle it down onto the desk, your eyes laser-focused onto the mess too. 

“Do you wanna come over to my side instead? Maybe you can spot it better from this view”, you suggest, which Seonghwa takes, so he shuffles over to the bed, and moves to sit right where you are—and now you’re on his lap, with his chest pressing right against your back as he towers over you, arms hugging you from behind. He continues to search for the missing Lego piece. 

You take part in the search too, the game completely forgotten by then. You realise it’s nice just having Seonghwa sitting close to you like this. Maybe this was what they meant by building Lego as “a couple activity”.

“Did you drop it or something?” You ask, shifting slightly to have a better view of the floor. You hear Seonghwa grunt behind you, but you pay no attention, focusing on finding the piece. 

Seonghwa swears he’s focused on looking for the missing piece too—he really wants to complete the set, but at the same time, he’s watching and feeling you move against him on top of the way he’s able to wrap his arms around you easily, smelling his scent on you—it’s not helping his case. He bites his bottom lip, trying to manage himself. 

Obviously, it does nothing, considering he’s having you in such close proximity, and every movement you’re brushing against him is starting to make him grow sensitive. 

His hand snakes down to your thighs, drawing circles, his other hand sifting through the endless pieces of Lego. 

He forces himself to concentrate, and it works for a split second, that is, until you absentmindedly shift his free arm on under your loose shirt, and he snaps. 

“If this is your way of breaking my concentration, you’re doing a good job”, you hear his deep voice ringing in your ears. He’s letting his hands roam all over your body hidden underneath your shirt, his fingers grazing against your nipples teasingly, and it draws gasps out of you. 

“Focus on finding the block, Park Seonghwa”, you tease, readjusting yourself, making sure you press against his growing erection underneath his loose shorts. 

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to draw a shaky breath every time your clothed ass comes into contact with his erection.

You pretend to ignore him, but you can’t ignore the way he’s massaging your tits, and you find yourself sighing and growing hotter through each passing moment. 

You think he’s finally giving you a break, but you’re proven wrong when his hands are sliding down the waistband of your shorts. 

“You’re not finding the block, Angel”, Seonghwa points out, and you pout at his words. Your hand slips under the large opening of his shorts and fuck—his erection is only growing thicker. 

You hear him groan behind you when you let your hands wander to stroke his cock through his underwear. So he retaliates with his finger sliding past your panties, cursing when he realises your pussy is growing wetter by the second.  

“We’re supposed to be looking for the Lego piece, Hwa”, you mutter, mind growing hazy as his fingers get drenched from your slick, circling your clit gently. 

“Mmhm. We are, baby. You’re just not focusing”, Seonghwa replies, his index and middle finger spreading your folds open letting his index finger find your clit more easily, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Your legs push open automatically, your hands pausing stroking him off, well, not that Seonghwa minded. 

“That feels so good”, you sigh. Seonghwa’s other hand cups your jaw, and you turn to face him, feeling the way his hands slide down your throat while Seonghwa has your lips on his, eating up your whines and moans before letting you catch your breath.

“So fuckin wet for me, Angel. You like it that much?” He teases. 

“Mmhm, your fingers feel so good Hwa”, you nod, your grip around his arm tightening as the pleasure builds in your stomach every time his finger strokes against your clit. At this point, you can’t even pretend.  

His lips are pressed against your ear, his voice deep yet you sense traces of whining in his tone when he says, “Sit on my dick. I need you on my fucking dick now, Angel.” 

Of course, you comply, despite your legs trembling slightly, letting Seonghwa slip out of his bottoms. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him, his lips making a whole garden of bites down your neck before he has both his hands lift your hips. 

Seonghwa lines himself against your fluttering cunt and he pushes himself into your pussy hole, his moans of relief sending you into a spiral on top of his cock sinking into you. 

Fuck, he’s filling you up so fucking good. 

“Fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking good”, he groans when you squeeze against him. 

“Hwa, oh my fucking god, you’re so full in me”, you sob, trying to adjust to his length. 

“Do you think we can find the piece better like this?” He jokes while peppering kisses down your neck to distract himself so he doesn’t fucking just burst in you just yet. 

Even in your pleasured haze, you still manage to laugh while you try to keep your eyes open. 

“I think we can”, you reply with a giggle, before squealing when you feel him twitch in you. You shift forward slightly, feeling his cock shift in you, dragging along your walls, a small whine escaping past your lips. 

With the last of your sanity remaining, you glance over the desk one more time, biting your lip to stay grounded, obviously to no avail, especially not with Seonghwa and his little movement behind you. 

“I really think it’s-fuck-not here”, Seonghwa mutters behind you, forcing himself not to thrust into you, his fingers slithering down to your wet clit once more. 

“I’m pretty sure it d-dropped. We haven’t checked the floor yet-ngh-right?” you manage to ask.

“Mmmm nope”, Seonghwa responds, mesmerised at the way your slick growing thicker on your clit and on his cock as he continues to rub your clit. “I guess we can do that later ‘cause I really need to fuck your pussy right now, Angel.” 

He doesn’t give you much time to answer because you’re a complete goner when Seonghwa is making you bounce off his cock while he gets you off with his fingers. 

You’re trembling from the sheer pleasure, your vision slowly growing hazy, the knot tightening in your abdomen more quickly than you thought. 

“H-Hwa! Gonna cum-Oh fuckkkk”, you draw out, white clouding your vision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, dopamine shooting up your body while you completely let go on his cock as Seonghwa fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum on my dick like that, Angel”, Seonghwa groans into your ear, his gaze traveling down at the way your thick cream streaks down his cock when he pulls out. He shuts his eyes, sighing into the nape of your neck while he listens to the way your cunt is just so loud and wet for him while he fucks your cream out of you, thrusting his hips upwards. 

“God, your pussy feels so fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good baby”, he pants before his hips thrust and press against yours, filling you up with his warm and thick cum accompanied by his low groans. 

You feel Seonghwa’s hands run down your body, soothing you after emptying his fucking load into you before he slowly pulls out of your cum-filled pussy. 

“I’ll get you a towel, Angel”, Seonghwa tells you, pressing his lips on your temple before leaving the bed. 

He retrieves a spare towel from the bathroom and cleans you up, before releasing you to wash up in the bathroom. 

When you renter his room, Seonghwa is switching gazes between his half-completed set and the instruction manual. 

He looks up at you with a grin that’s making you feel uneasy. 

“Babe, turns out I wasn’t missing a piece—I already had it in all along!”

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @woojirang @jjoongstar @yuyusgirl

[kithtaehyung]

bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one  rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments. 

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes. 

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding. 

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over. 

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch. 

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen. 

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology. 

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too. 

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience. 

However. 

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction. 

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar. 

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other. 

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home. 

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps. 

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted. 

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!” 

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look. 

“Suit yourself!” 

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?” 

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued. 

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle. 

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?” 

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already. 

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave. 

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier. 

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable. 

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :( 

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car. 

And all you can do is stare at your screen. 

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :) 

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile. 

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!! 

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser 

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre. 

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there! 

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench. 

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard. 

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar. 

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same. 

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?” 

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?” 

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone. 

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds, 

“Turns out Jimin was right.” 

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.” 

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!” 

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.” 

—

—

—

fin. :)

-

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

[bookyeom]

pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy

Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.

pov by ariana grande

i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do

You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.

You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 

“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 

“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.

”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.

“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 

“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 

“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 

“Come on. Stop.”

Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”

“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”

“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.

“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 

“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”

The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”

You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”

You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“

“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 

“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.

“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”

“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 

“DK would,” you mumble.

“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 

“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 

“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”

“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 

“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 

“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”

”Are you saying you don't care about me?”

You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”

“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”

“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 

“When are you guys hanging out next?”

You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 

“How was yesterday?”

“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 

You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.

“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.

“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”

“Cheol.”

“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”

You look back down at your food. “He did.”

Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”

“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”

The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”

“You’re being a dick.”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”

“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”

This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.

“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”

“Yeah,” is all you say. 

“Hey.”

You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 

He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 

You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.

That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.

You hate how downright… silly you feel.

”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”

“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 

“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.

“Are you happy?”

Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”

”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.

”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”

“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”

The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.

“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”

Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 

“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 

You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.

“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.

“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”

“But what did I do wrong? With him?”

Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 

You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 

“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.

It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”

To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.

“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”

You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?

“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.

“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”

You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 

You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 

Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?

You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.

Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas

Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 

Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(

Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE

You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.

Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?

You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.

Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 

“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”

You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 

“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”

Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”

Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”

You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”

The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.

“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.

“Listen, I–”

“Hey, Cheol–”

You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 

“You first,” you offer, and he nods.

“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 

You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.

“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 

Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”

“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 

“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 

You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.

“Yeah?” 

Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?

“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.

He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.

“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.

“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 

The tension in the air is palpable. 

Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.

“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”

That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”

“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.

“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”

You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.

“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 

When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.

“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 

I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.

You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.

He seems to understand you just fine.

He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.

The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 

The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 

Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 

When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”

It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”

He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 

You believe him.

“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”

He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.

“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 

You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”

“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.

“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”

Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”

You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”

The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”

“You’ve thought about it, huh?”

You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”

A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Baby’s Gotta Gun (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You’ve been in a situationship with Rafe for over a year and when you show up to his party that he invited you to and there’s another girl all over him, you’ve finally had it. WK: 1.3k

Warnings: Gun play, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness, reader is a lil unhinged, switch!Rafe, switch!reader, a lil fluff dashed in. Porn/no plot. 18+MNDI!

This is for me and @babygorewhore’s Writing Prompt Game, feel free to click the link and come play!!🤍

“Tell me, tell me who owns this fucking cock.” You run the tip of his pistol over his plush split slick lips while you bounce on his cock like your life depends on it. The sound of your wet cunt and hips slapping together echoing through the room.

“You - fuckin’ shit - you do baby, you own my cock.” Rafe’s eyes roll back when you start to rotate your hips, his large hands grip onto the fat of your ass while you ride him like a fucking succubus.

“Didn’t I tell you to fucking look at me while I take what’s mine, huh?” You move the gun to his head, shoving it against his temple as your free hand grips onto his jaw, squeezing his cheeks together until he opens his eyes. “You look those other girls in the eyes while you fuck them or do you just get it in and move on? Because when you fuck me you take your time, tell me how beautiful I am and how much I mean to you but then you’re buried in the next hoe you see.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. You know - oh fuuuck - you know you’re my girl.” Rafe feels like he’s about to fucking bust any second. Your pace doesn’t falter for a moment, fucking yourself on his cock like you’re trying to drain him of every drop of cum in his body. Driven by pure jealousy and rage.

“Yeah? You’re always fucking saying that, Cameron. But then shit like this happens. I show up to your party, that you invited me to and there’s some bitch on your lap with her tongue down your throat the minute I get here?” You run the barrel of the gun down the side of his face as you chuckle darkly, using your grip on his jaw to shake his head side to side. “If you don’t want anything serious why are you always buying me shit? Scaring off every dude that talks to me? Telling everyone I belong to you while you’re out fucking around?”

“It’s just… baby, shit, if you keep fucking me like that I’m gonna fucking blow my load any second.” Rafe hates to admit that your possessive jealousy is only turning him on more. The crazy look in your eyes, the way you’re fucking him like you own him, while you hold his gun. It’s really fucking doing it for him.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, Rafe. I’m not done with you. Answer my god damn question.” You slow your pace a bit as you take his face in both of your hands, the grip you still have on the pistol causing it to press against the side of his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m all yours from now on, alright? I fuckin’ mean it. I was just scared, baby. You’re too perfect for me. Knew if I made you mine for real I’d have to marry you someday.” He’s not even sure why he said that, it’s not like he hasn’t subconsciously thought about it before. You were perfect in every way before but this possessive display just makes him want you even more.

“HA! Thirty minutes ago you were dry humping some girl you’ve never talked to and now you’re talking marriage? Be so fucking for real, Rafe.” You bring the gun to his temple again, leaning in so your lips are brushing the shell of his ear. “If you were a real man you would’ve made it official a fucking year ago.”

That was the final straw for him. If you didn’t wanna believe him he would fucking show you how serious he was. He grips onto the gun, easily ripping it from your hand while his other arm wraps around your waist, using his hold on you to flip you on your back. He hovers over you, turning the tables on you by pressing the gun against the side of your head.

“Will you just shut the fuck up for a second. You’re my girl, aight? My girl.”

“I’ve heard that like a million times, pretty boy, doesn’t mean shit to me. You really think I’m gonna just-“ your words are cut short when he slips the gun between your lips.

“I said stop talking, I fucking mean it every time I say it. And you’re right. I was being a pussy bitch. But now I’m gonna show you who you belong to, who I belong too.” He pulls the barrel out of your mouth slightly before slipping it back between your lips. “Suck.”

You roll your eyes, leaving your lips open. He grips onto his cock, slamming it into your wet pussy in one swift motion, starting up at the brutal pace. “I” Thrust. “Said” Thrust. “Fucking suck.”

Your eyes roll back, this time in pleasure, as your wrap your lips around the cool metal, swirling your tongue.

“Hey” His large hand slaps your cheek lightly. “Fucking look at me while I take what’s mine.”

Your eyes fly open and you're met with his intense ocean blue stare as he fucks you hard and deep, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust of his hips. “Yeah, there’s my fucking girl.”

He pulls the gun from your mouth, pushing himself up on his knees, his thrusts never faltering. He smirks down at you before bringing the spit slick barrel to your clit, circling it in time with his cock pounding into you.

“Ohmyfuckinggod!” You cry out as you cum, your walls pulsing around him.

“Yeah that’s it, fuckin’ cum for me, that’s my girl. Say it, say you’re my girl.”

“I’m your girl, daddy, I’m your girl.” You babble and Rafe smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you now that you’re back to calling him his rightful title.

“And I’m yours baby, got it? Always been yours. Always thought about you. Always felt shitty and just wanted to see you after I fucked around with anyone else.” He feels his high start to build, tossing the gun to the side before he leans down, covering your body with his. He laces his fingers with yours and captures your lips in a surprisingly tender kiss, that completely contradicted the way he was fucking you.

“Yeah, you’re fucking mine. I’ll kill any bitch that tries to touch you.” You practically growl, burying your face into his neck so you can suck on his skin, marking him as yours.

“That’s so fucking hot - shiiiit, baby girl, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill my pretty little pussy up.” You bite down onto his shoulder as your long manicured nails scratch down his back, marking him up even further and it sends him over the edge. His hips still against yours as his cock twitches inside you, painting your walls with his cum. “Yeah, that’s a fuckin’ good girl, take my fuckin’ cum.”

Rafe rolls off of you, panting as he falls to his side. He pulls you into him and you lay your head on his chest, placing a soft kiss on his peck.

“Did you mean all of that?” You ask nervously, afraid to look at him.

“Babe, look at me.” He cradles your face in his hand urging you to look up at him. When your eyes meet his, he smiles softly. “You’re my girl, okay? And I’m yours. No more games. No more bitches. Just you and me, aight?”

“Yeah, alright. That sounds nice, daddy.” He leans down, kissing you passionately as he weaves his fingers through your hair.

“Plus, I’ll kill any guy that even breathes your air.”

“Yeah? Well I’ll kill any bitch that even thinks about you.” He chuckles, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. After this? He kinda believes you. But he doesn’t mind, because he would kill for you anyday.

[neil-gaiman]

Hey man. I’m a nobody that works for a Big Chain Bookstore™️, and I have a question I don’t expect to be answered about some Neil Lore in our chain. So. Corporate sends us updates and sometimes they include moving books to different categories. I don’t remember if it was earlier this year, or late last year (in the trench of retail hell, time flows in liquid circles instead of linear concepts), but we had to move all of your books to the horror section and then about a month later we had to move most of them back out. Now. If you don’t wanna take the time to confirm or deny- it’s cool I get it, like I said I’m nobody, but I didn’t realize you were like active on tumblr which has emboldened me with the idea that you and I are, on some very distant level, cool, so I gotta ask. Word on the back aisle streets of this glorious book chain that rhymes with looks-a-million, is that you came in after corporate had us recategorize your entire collection as Horror, and said oh absolutely fuggin not, and that is why we had to move it all back. Is this true?

Ya know, most of the time, rumors passed among booksellers are just really funny gossip about people we will never actually meet.

But the idea of you walking into one of our stores and just being like - hold the phone, why is it… fix it- on like a random Tuesday, is so goddamn funny to me.

Well, it wasn't me who made the call on this. But weirder things than that have happened over the years.

[satorhime]

recess + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : dad!gojo, f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader ‘n’ gojo r not the best parents but they just wanna comfort their sweet baby girl, reader is referred to as ‘mrs’, ‘mama’, school fights, light discussion of insecurities, bullying + discrimination･｡･ w.c. 2.2k

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : you, satoru, and your daughter’s first trip to the principle’s office.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ notes : i am in the fluffiest mood ever for my dear heart so i present u another one of my dad!gojo fics. this one tugged at my heart strings tho :( not proofread!

the school calls and says that your five-year-old daughter got into a fight with another student during recess, and the first thing satoru asks is “did she win?”

an hour later, the two of you are sitting in the middle of the principle’s office on a worn, brown leather couch while an aide fetches your little girl from lunch. the differences in your respective reactions is stark, a contrast of color that can be seen throughout your relationship.

while you are respectful of authority, nodding along and gasping in horror with your hand clutching your necklace as the principle explains that your daughter was seen punching a little boy in the sandbox, satoru has his legs kicked up on the principle’s big oak desk, his head thrown back in full blown laughter. you have to lash out, smacking his chest with your fist just to get him to quiet down— only for him to retaliate with a pinch to the side of your thigh.

“i believe i see where the violence comes from,” the principle clicks her tongue over the melodramatics of satoru coughing and spitting after your hit, her lip curled in disapproval. she has a severe look about her, like the suffocatingly conservative elders in satoru’s clan. “mister and missus gojo, you must know this behavior is highly inappropriate.”

“we’re sor-”

“you never answered my question you know,” satoru cuts you off before you can apologize like a good little student yourself, sitting up straight and cocking his head to the side. even though you can’t see his eyes, covered by his dark shades, you can almost taste his amusement in the air. he is not taking any of this seriously, and why would he?

he was the one who taught her how to throw a punch.

“and what question would that be, mister gojo?”

“if she won the fight or not, of course!” he says, punctuating each word with a wag of his finger. with his million dollar grin all wide on his face. some things never change no matter how old you get because you can tell that he enjoys challenging authority. that he decided the principle was just another one of the higher ups who abused their power and looked down their nose at the youth after one glimpse of her personality and leadership.

the principle opens her mouth, likely to scold him, but then the door opens and your little one steps through with the aide carrying her backpack. her head is hung low, her chin tucked against her chest and her fists are bunched in the hem of her uniform skirt as she walks in— the very picture of guilt.

“you can ask her instead,” the principle concludes, and you become a little closer to seeing gojo’s approach to things. you don’t like the way she looks at your baby, ready to toss the key away for a kindergartner who can barely speak properly without even knowing if she initiated the fight or not. you grit your teeth, though. you’re trying to be civil, for crying out loud.

after all, your child doesn’t need two maniacs for parents.

“miss gojo,” the principle calls, addressing your kindergartener directly. when she raises her chin, she has a defiant look in her big, glacier blue eyes that rival’s her father’s own. there’s a fleck of rice stuck cutely to the side of her mouth, no doubt from the onigiri you packed in her bento this morning. her little white plaits are in disarray, the colorful barrettes you accessorized her hair with lost and nowhere to be found, and when your eyes drop down to her hands, you can tell that she’s hiding her bruised knuckles in her skirt. “do tell us what happened, and absolutely no fibs or tall tales, please.”

“uhm…” her eyes roam the room, intimidated by the adults watching her with expectation. she earns a patient nod and smile from you, and a cheeky wink from satoru over the rim of his glasses. taking a deep breath, she mumbles, “uhm. i was playing in the big box and sōta-kun started saying mean stuff so i punched him real hard.”

“and do you think that was an appropriate approach to someone saying something you don’t like, miss gojo? our school does not condone violence or bullies. we teach kindness and communication.”

“i thought he would dodge! dada always dodges my hits when we train,” she huffs in defense, blowing air into her cheeks. you shrink in your chair, placing a hand over your face in embarrassment because you know exactly what she’s about to say next. “aaaand, dada told me that whenever i don’t like something someone say, i can just blast them off the face of the earth when i get strong!”

“i do recall telling her that,” satoru takes credit proudly, his grin turning mischievous.

“satoru,” you warn, sighing. “really not the time.”

“i’m seen but silent.” he spreads his palms in surrender, mocking what you always tell your daughter to be when she makes too much racket in public. “and pretty.”

“it seems that neither one of you are concerned with your child’s concerning behavior. you make quips while her fellow student had to be sent to the infirmary because of her actions,” the woman’s voice is grave and authoritative, cutting through the lackadaisical attitude swirling around satoru. his posture never changes, but you can see the moment his spine straightens. “the child’s parents are demanding she be expelled.”

“what’s ‘expelled’?”

“i’ll explain it to you later, my love,” you whisper.

“sheesh, these old geezers are all the same,” he whistles, rolling his eyes.

“excuse me?” she demands, turning red.

“what my heart means to say,” you hiss through clenched teeth, cutting a glare so dark at him that his grin falters. though you’ll have no control over it later, it’s no secret the path you want for your little girl. you have not mistaken the abnormal luminescence in her eyes for anything but what it is, what it will develop into. she inherited her father’s powers, and it’s important that you give her even the tiniest semblance of a normal life. going to a good school with children on the outside, at least at first, is the first step to that. “is that surely, this can be handled with leniency? we still do not know what was said to cause her to react this way and-”

“it does not matter what was said,” the principle barks. “our academy has no need for violence, nor… a peculiar like her who-”

“if i were you, i would be careful with your words,” satoru’s voice lowers and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it’s her first offense, ain’t it? she’s five. just let her apologize to the kid and suspend her for a couple of days, if you gotta.”

“if not,” he drawls, standing up and stretching his arms casually. you know it’s time to leave when satoru starts threatening people— you hold out your hand to your daughter so that she can take it before grasping onto satoru’s sleeve and hauling him towards the door, too. “i may suddenly become interested in a transfer and a promotion.”

you almost roll your eyes because he doesn’t even have a real license to teach.

“you are over the line, sir. you must know that threats-”

“think about it!”

and then, he grins one last time at the gobsmacked principle as you begin hauling your two troublemakers out of the office.

each of your daughter’s tiny pinky fingers are curled around one of you and satoru’s as you all walk home afterwards, linked together. she still looks so crestfallen, so guilty it almost makes gojo chuckle, but he settles for an amused grin cocked to one side of his glossy lips. she keeps sighing exaggeratedly, and there is never any denying whose daughter she is.

“soooo,” satoru is the one to ask, surprisingly. he usually lets you play the villain in the storybook before bedtime. “what did the brat say that made you knock him out with a right hook, princess? hitting without a reaaaally good reason is bad. i think i forgot to add that in my lesson last time.”

it’s the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind as well— why did your gentle baby girl get into a playground brawl with another student? has she been displaying this behavior at school all along? you knew that satoru training her before she could even read a book properly was a horrible idea, but you had wanted to compromise with him since you had decided she would be raised away from sorcerers during her childhood.

“the left one,” she mumbles the correction, sniffling dejectedly. “i already- i already said him kept saying mean stuff.”

“like what, baby?” you encourage softly, reaching down to swipe a stray tear that rolls down her cheek. you bite your lip, trying to figure out how to approach the beginning of a lesson on how to direct her negative emotions away from lashing out, and into something more rational. “you can tell me and dada, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“yep! we’re perfect at keeping secrets too.”

“him said that mama wasn’t my real one because i look like a fweak and mama and dada does too. ‘cause i got these stupid dumb blue eyes and stupid dumb white hair that nobody else got. ‘s what they allllll say. ‘cause i’m ugly.”

oh.

satoru’s head lifts a little, and the two of you share a look over her head. anger courses through your veins like liquid fire, ending in hot tears bubbling up in your eyes, and suddenly you aren’t interested in reprimanding your child for defending herself. satoru’s fist clenches until his knuckles turn white, hidden in the pocket of his slacks.

you aren’t idiots— you knew that she would be treated differently, in any school. with you being a foreigner, and satoru having unnatural looks himself, there’s no denying that she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst other children in her class with her snowy white hair and her tiny tinted, prescription goggles that people ask questions about, because while she has the six eyes, she doesn’t know how to use it properly yet and her eyesight is bad because of it.

still, the thought of you missing something is heart wrenching. your baby girl is always cheerful when you or satoru or both pick her up from school at the end of the day, chatting animatedly and showing off her creations from class, but maybe … maybe that was because she was relieved to be home again, surrounded by her favorite things and her loving parents, rather than spending hours a day with people who treated her like she was less than human.

“c’mere, princess,” satoru says, bending at the waist to hoist her off the ground. he perches her up on his arm, letting his shades slide down so that she can look into his eyes. you step a little closer after that, placing a hand on her back for support but you’ll speak to her later when the two of you have a little gossip before bed like you do each night, girl to girl. but right now, satoru is just what she needs. “favorite things that are blue like your eyes? shoot.”

“squirtle!”

“good job, princess. what else?”

she takes great care in huffing, her lower lip stuffing out into a pout, lifting a finger to tap the lens of gojo’s shades, “your eyes.” and then she points to the wedding ring on your finger, with a delicate aquamarine stone set in the middle. she always loved playing with it as a baby. “and mama’s ring.” she thinks for another moment. “and the sky!”

“good job. favorite things that are white like your hair? go!”

a little smile plays on the corners of your lips as you listen to them. satoru is eerily good at parenting when he wants to be, and already she’s swinging and humming because he introduced her to a game of listing her favorite things that looks like her.

“oh-! ice cream, and… and, megumi-nii’s ps5, and.. and.. your hair, dada!” she cheers, her little voice full of excitement as she bounces up and down.

“you’re so good at this. all those things look different from you, don’t they? but they’re pretty to you anyway, right?”

“yep!”

“so… come on here, help your old man out,” he prompts. “what does that make you?”

“i’m pretty too?”

“that’s right. you got a buy one get one free, you know! you got your mama’s beauty and you got six eyes, when most kids only have two! they’re just jealous.” he insists. “they all are.”

“i have six?” she asks in wonder, and just like that she’s on board, her eyes going round and wide behind her goggles. he nods, reaching up to ruffle her little plaits with a grin. then he glances over at you, switching your daughter over to hold with his other arm so that he can pull you close, loop a long arm protectively around your shoulders as you walk and just like that, he’s holding both of his favorite girls.

“yep, and they’re the prettiest eyes ever, this much prettier than your dada’s,” you singsong, cracking a grin and spreading your arms out as a makeshift measurement.

“ouch,” satoru whines, playfully offended. “unfortunately, she’s right.”

“i’m prettier than you, dada!” she giggles, and it means the world to see her spirits lifted once more.

“you’re the prettiest in the world, jellybean. never let anyone tell you otherwise.” you pinch her cheek, earning one of those sweet giggles from her. “our pretty, special baby girl.”

later on tonight, you’ll have a more serious conversation with her about how though the world will sneer and treat her differently because she doesn’t look like society expects her to, she is beautiful despite it all. that she is a product of love, of the most ardent kind. and heart, and happiness. that she is the best thing in the world and you would not trade her for anybody else.

tomorrow, you’ll be raising hell against that school for letting children bully your daughter, for a child having to defend herself against discrimination. but right now, the last thing you say after the school calls and says that your five-year-old got into a fight with another student during recess is “let’s get you ice cream that looks like you to celebrate causing your first black eye!”

[successfulgoddess333]

MY LONG AWAITED SUCCESS STORY PLUS RANT/YALL NEED THIS STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ

First things first

I’m tired of being nice

I have took time out of MY day to help you guys

EVERY DAY

I have given tips methods

Advice answered questions

Replied to countless amounts of DMs

Etc etc I’m not providing false hope here I AM trying to help you guys

I’m getting so many different suggestions and asks

Let me say this

STOP

from now on

No more questions

If it’s urgent

Like you really wanna know something

DM me

I WILL respond

No more questions asking how to enter the void

My account is literally talking about HOW TO ENTER THE VOID STATE

Are instructions not clear?????

Get off your butt and fucking do it!!!!

Stop procrastinating stop being lazy stop asking questions you spreads know the answers to

And for the love of God

STOP ASKING ME TO ENTER FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!

I’m doing what I can to help you all manifest

But it’s YOUR job to make it happen

Y’all used my kindness against me and it’s pissing me off I’m tired of people not even asking anymore

Just begging me

I AM NOT A MAGICIAN

I was literally YOU

not too long ago

I am a nice person but I am at my limits

Stop repeating questions

Look at my page for the answers you need

Stop asking me to enter for you

If it’s not happening

DM me for ADVICE

I used to be the kid that got asked by others to do their homework for them

If I didn’t put my foot down

Y’all were gonna drive me insane

Literally

I love y’all but stop depending on me

Just ask

For advice

But stop treating me like a Genie

And I manifested for someone and it doesn’t work

Then what

Am I a liar now???

Am I fake??

Like are you serious

Bruh I’m serious when I say

I’ve had enough

Read this story to see how YOU CAN ALSO

Transform your life

I literally went from

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

I went from slitting my own wrists and going in my closet trying to hang myself EVERY FUCKING NIGHT

I used to stare in the mirror

Crying about how my body looked

I used to go to school scared because I was getting abused by guys there and bullied by girls

All my friends turned their backs on me and I literally said

FUCK IT

I don’t deserve this fucking life so you know what I did????

I changed it

It’s so easy it’s insane

I too over complicated it

I too was desperate

But your desires are yours

They just are

Ignore them MF negative thoughts

Matter of a fact don’t even call it that

You are giving your “intrusive” thoughts power by saying they are negative

Don’t label them as intrusive thoughts

THEY DO NOT EXIST

THEY WILL NEVER MANIFEST

And I’m not just saying that it’s true

It’s soooo fucking true

By labeling them as “intrusive” or “negative” you’re giving them power

To take over and control your life

When this is not what you want

Don’t fear your own head

Bitch it’s YOUR BRAIN

It can’t NOT listen to you

Change your goddamn assumptions

You are a bad bitch you’re hot beautiful

You’re THAT bitch

Bad bitches don’t beg we make shit happen

Get off your cute ass and go get your dream fucking life

Bitch you can have it all

You can marry Shawn Mendez

Be the sexiest model on the planet (but you’re only 5’3) OK ANDDDDD

Marissa Rose is the first 4’11 runway model

You mean to tell me it’s not possible???

They have plus size models

Shirt models

Models with tig ol biddies

Models with tattoos models with piercings models with scars etc

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE

You can get a call back from that job

Better yet fuck 9 to 5s

Bitch YOU ARE RICH

You are literally Jeff Bezos

Don’t manifest “small shit” cuz if you can get an apartment and a job

You can also manifest $100 million and 2500 square feet mansion

You can have superpowers

You can be a master manifestor

You can become a celebrity and overnight

You can meet your favorite celebrities at awards shows

You can sit next to Ice Spice at the Grammys

EVEN SHE MANIFESTED HER DREAM LIFE

There’s proof in her old tweets and in your interviews

YOU CAN HAVE HARRY STYLES TICKETS FOR WHENEVER HE DECIDES TO DROP AN ALBUM

YOU CAN BE THE NEXT BEYONCÉ

YOU CAN MEET OR EVEN PERFORM WITH TAYLOR SWIFT

YOU CAN HAVE ALL THE MONEY YOU WANT

YOU CAN SHIFT TO ANOTHER REALITY AND MEET MICHAEL JACKSON

YOU CAN HAVE THE SINGING VOICE OF AALIYAH OR MF MARIAH CAREY

YOU CAN MANIFEST THAT YOUR DOG NEVER DIED OR THAT

YOUR EX STILL MISSES YOU

KANYE WEST MANIFESTED KIM K

TOM HOLLAND MANIFESTED ZENDAYA

YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU CANT HAVE

MICHAEL B JORDAN WAITING ON YOU HAND AND FOOT????

YOU CAN ENTER THE VOID MANIFEST YOUR Sp

AND WAKE UP NEXT TO YOUR CRUSH

YOU CAN MANIFEST BEING IMMUNE TO BAD SHIT BEING A GODDESS BEING SO BEAUTIFUL THAT PEOPLE FORGET MEGAN FOX EXISTS

YOU CAN MANIFEST LOOKING LIKE MARILYN MONROE

OR MADISON BEER

YOU CAN MANIFEST TALENT

BITCH ITS ALL POSSIBLE

You OWN THIS SHIT THIS IS YOUR LIFE BOO

Go fucking get it!!!!!!!

SUCCESS STORY

I was tired of own shit so I used the method that I created

I already posted it

Go read it

Here’s what I manifested

1. SP

I manifested a girlfriend because I’m bisexual asf

And I created her on my phone

Just write if list of what she looks and acts like

I manifested my dream career

I manifested platonic SPs

As in friendships

Money

A strong intuition

More knowledge

A better self concept

Immunity

The ability to hypnotize with my eyes(OK I HAVENT TESTED THIS OUT BUT IM EXCITED TO)

Meeting a celebrity

Can’t say who but I manifested it for the future

I even got pets now!!! A puppy two kittens and two snakes!!

I manifested lots of cool talents

I improved my dancing!!!!!!

I was insecure about my voice

So I changed it

Deadass I sound kinda sexy now

I wanted a whispery ass voice😭😭

So I got oneeee

I also manifested a LOT of personal stuff that I won’t share

Unfortunately I’m SUPER protective of my soul and just overall self

And I’m not posting a face reveal

This might seem surprising to most

My passive aggressive behavior but this is literally how I am daily

I really am nice but y’all just make me ANXIOUS

But still

I love you darlings soooo much

Like for real

But please just pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Don’t make me your wish granter

Make your own wishes come true

If it’s cool with y’all

I’ll manifest tonight

That entering the void will be easy for you guys

But you HAVE to do it yourself I can only guide you

You got this babe

If you got offended it’s working

That means you needed this

Take this tough love and go use it for good

I better see some goddamn success stories this month or we gon fight

(Not literally that’s just my humor talking)

Love you bitches

Now go meditate before I appear under your bed tonight and yank yo shit

Love youuuu💗💗💗💗💗

[mattscoquette]

my experience meeting the triplets/ going to their tour ౨ৎ ⋆.˚ ✧

first i just wanna say, i am so so so insanely grateful to have attended both tours and to have met them twice. i’m not trying to brag or anything but a lot of people ask me and i figured it be easier for me to make one post rather than answer inbox questions a million times that get lost.

2/5/23 - let’s trip tour

i met the triplets for the first time during the let’s trip tour. i vividly remember being at work when the tickets went on sale and i was gonna go w my coworker but things fell thru and i went alone, and that alr was nerve wrecking enough. but i met a lot of cool people on line and everyone was super friendly. i got the pre-show small talk package, so i got to meet them before i saw them on stage. i also wrote them letters (idk if they ever opened them) but it was honestly fate when i stopped to drop them off in the present bin because there was a group of three girls in front of me so i wasn’t super rushed when i was meeting each triplet.

i met chris first! i was soooooo nervous but the second i started talking it all went away. the first thing i noticed was how small they are irl and immediately after was how fucking good chris smelled 😭 he was soo sweet. i told him how i loved watching their videos w my mom and that she was his favorite. i can’t rlly remember what else i talked about him with, and i tried to screen record my camera but i didn’t turn the mic on so i lost all the audio 😭😭

next was matttttt the loml. i was immediately soo comfortable around him, i was literally just talking like a normal conversation without even thinking. i asked him how the tour was going and he told me he was sad it was ending soon. and then i told him how one of my best friends is a triplet and we talked about that, he told me his dad is a twin and that everyone thinks he nick and chris are identical but they aren’t. he was so sweet and really listen to what you have to say, i had such a nice time talking with him.

when i met nick my auto pilot like shut off and i froze 😭😭 i literally out loud was like “i am so nervous” and he was so sweet about it, he hugged me a second time and was like “no don’t be it’s okay!” lmfaoo. i didn’t get to talk to him as long but i remember him telling me it was super nice to meet me after.

on line for the red carpet, i met madi! she was just walking around the venue, and she was over by me and i asked for a photo. she was soo sweet (and so pretty irl omfg). i didn’t wait in line for the red carpet for very long, i got merch, and then i did my photo w them :,) tbh i honestly don’t lovee it because i rlly don’t look the best in it lolol. bur ill pull thru and show u all. but this was back when u got to pick ur own poses and we all did hearts with one another (idk if that makes sense) and i stood next to my mannn😛😛

i look so diff now like i actually hate how i look when i met them but that’s beside the point 😭😭 but they all looked sooooo good. also for reference im about 5’3-5’4ish.

show-wise, it was sm more fun than the versus tour tbh. i got to see yung pleit perform and he opened w miss me and everyone was going insaneeeee. i was literally like one person behind the baracade, i was so close it was so so so cool. the triplets went on for maybe twenty minutes but they read the question i asked them which was so cool. and mary lou, jimmy, justin, and nate were all at my show!! they were on the balcony above the stage and were waving to us it was so cute. i had such a fun time at this show i wish i could go back

10/9/23 - the versus tour

this show was soooooo so so so special to me. i was going through a really really hard time. and this show made me so happy and gave me such a nice break from everything. this show wasn’t as close as the first show so i went to with my mom (she was team orange lol). i also got to meet some old online friends i made which was so nice :,) like the last tour, i got pre-show small talk. my only complaint though is that when i bought tickets backstage wasn’t available, some friends and i called the venue and they told us there was no backstage , but there actually was :( but im still sooooo grateful i got to meet them!

the order was the same as last time- chris, matt, then nick. i was so nervous about meeting them again, i literally almost forgot to take a pic w chris LMFAO. he was so sweet, he asked me how i was doing, if i was excited, all that good stuff. this time was a lot more rushed than the first, but i still got a decent amount of time with each triplet. i also got them each to draw me my fav angel numbers to get tattooed, i still haven’t gotten it yet but when i do i’ll post it :)

i was sooo nervous to meet matt again lmfao but as soon as i went up to him i felt fine. i complemented his outfit (he had on his white eeyore jacket 😭😭 so cute) and we took our picture and when i was leaving he told me it was rlly nice to meet me :,)) he is sooooooo pretty irl like his eyes r so blue and his earrings r so sparkly i was literally like in a trance. omfg.

nick was soo sweet he gave me such a big hug and was so smiley and asked how i was doing, same as chris. he also rested his head on mine when we took our pic togetherrr. he was so so kind.

my show was a monday so they had uploaded a podcast while i was on line for the red carpet, so i listened to that a bit while waiting. this tour we had pre-picked poses, but i did the hearts again. i stood in between matt and chris, and i said i wanted hearts and matt immediately did half the heart and put his arm around me so we did the heart tgth 😭😭

lowk not a fan of this pic either but :( so sweet. i love them so much. i also wore platform shoes this time lol so that gave me some height.

the show was so good! so much more entertaining than what the triplets did the first time. it was very engaging, and so fun to watch. lowk bitter i didn’t get picked to be matt’s teammate but we move. anyway. each challenge was so fun, me and my friend knew almost all the trivia questions they did 😭😭 and jenga was sooo stressful to watch lmfao it was so close the whole time, i think we had one of the longest jenga shows of the tour lmfao. chris ended up winning bc matt dropped the jenga tower and they were both tied. it was such a fun experience im so grateful to have gone !

© mattscoquette

[grimesgirll]

“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”

your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.

“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.

you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.

“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”

“makes two of us.”

something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”

you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.

playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.

“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”

you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”

your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”

you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.

but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?

and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.

that isn’t everything though.

he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”

“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”

he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”

“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”

“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”

“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.

“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”

“fucker.”

“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.

“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.

the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.

“what’s going on?”

“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.

rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”

“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”

rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”

“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”

you owe the man your life a million times over.

rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.

the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.

the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.

fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.

“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”

“shane.” the man above you warns.

“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”

a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.

“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”

shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”

your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.

rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.

“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.

beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.

“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”

“really?”

you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”

shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.

“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”

you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.

rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.

it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.

you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.

a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.

thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.

“down and up. you know how to do it.”

shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.

“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.

“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.

ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.

the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.

eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.

shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”

you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.

“needy slut,” shane comments.

you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.

rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.

a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.

rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.

“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.

“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.

“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”

shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.

your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.

rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.

“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”

his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.

shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.

“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.

whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;

“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”

[lovebugism]

If you’re taking requests could I ask for one from the fall prompts with Steve and punchy?

“When she wears YOUR flannel shirt”

ty for requesting! steve x punchy nation rise! — you spend an autumn morning with steve which results in misplaced jealousy and spilled coffee (established relationship, fluff, v v brief miscommunication, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve, still wearing last night’s pajamas, stands barefoot on the patio and basks in the early morning orange. 

Fall seemed to arrive in Hawkins overnight. It’s cooler than usual outside, and everything is weirdly more yellow. Every tree has seemingly shed its leaves, too, and somehow ended up right in his pool. He uses the net to fish the dying things from the rippling blue.

You watch him from the doorway. His golden arms tense with every scoop, and his sleep shirt is so tight you can see the muscles in his back flexing, too. Your bare legs are cold and prickly with it, but the sight of him makes you feel all warm — like the mug of hot coffee burning your palm.

“You have to stop being so productive so early in the morning,” you chastise, voice still heavy with sleep. “It’s getting weird.”

“It’s gotta get done, babe,” Steve retorts with a soft laugh, his back still facing you.

You take it as an opportunity to press yourself against him. You wrap your free hand around his waist and spread your palm along the faint pudge of his covered tummy. Your cheek melts between his shoulder blades as you mumble, “Not while normal people are still sleeping. Think about it— we could be spooning right now and not freezing our asses off—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve interjects with a boyish vibrato. Still gripping the metal handle of the pool skimmer, he turns around to face you. His honey eyes are wide as they dart up and down your form. “No way you’re wearing Eddie’s shirt right now.”

Your brows pinch together just like his bushy ones. You look down at yourself, at the deep green and navy blue flannel swallowing you whole, then back at him. “No?” you answer, though it comes out as more of a question. “This is your shirt.”

Steve shakes his head, puts a hand on his hip, and clicks his lips against his teeth. 

“No… I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing it the other day— he said he was gonna cut the sleeves off and wear it over his jacket like a freak.”

“And I told him he couldn’t, remember?” you lilt with raised brows. “‘Cause he stole it from me after I stole it from you.”

Steve winces when you shove your pointer finger into his chest.

“So, it’s mine?” he questions, confused all over again.

You nod all slow. “Yeah.”

“Oh…” he hums, less jealous and more content than he was a moment ago. 

His chest starts to warm now that he can see you more clearly, without the haze of misplaced envy clouding his vision. 

Your hair’s a mess, and you’re still in yesterday’s makeup, and your legs are unshaven. The buttons on the flannel don’t quite line up, either, and the lapel droops off one shoulder to reveal the lovebite he left on your collarbone the night before.

If home was a place, he’s pretty sure it’d look an awful lot like you.

“…Oh,” he repeats, with a more profound inflection this time. ‘Cause he’s a boy, and you’re wearing his shirt, and it’s doing irreversible damage to his brain.

“I just got, like, ten times hotter, huh?” you tease with a knowing squint.

“Try a thousand,” Steve scoffs with a pink grin.

“A million?”

“A billion,” he argues, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders to pull you into him again. His other stays firmly gripping the pool net because he’s not diving in to rescue this thing if it sinks. “A kajillion, even,” he jokes with sparkling eyes that dance between both of yours.

You laugh before you mean to. “Wow. That’s a real big number, Harrington. Sure you know what it means?”

“If it means I wanna kiss the life outta you, then, yeah,” he murmurs lowly, already leaning in to kiss your smile.

You taste like coffee, where he tastes like minty mouthwash. It’s an unearthly concoction that feels like heaven on your tongue. 

It’s perhaps too early to be kissed so ardently, with your head tilted back against the crook of Steve’s elbow while he steals the breath from your lungs. You get so effortlessly drunk on him — quickly forgetting the crisp cold and the fresh coffee in your hand.

Steve hisses when he pulls back from you, features contorted in discomfort. “Hot coffee,” he winces through gritted teeth. “Hot coffee on my foot.”

Only then do you recognize your limp hand and the subtle splashing of your drink against the patio.

“Oh, shit!” you blurt into the quiet, early morning. “Fuck, Steve— I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head and swipes a hand through his hair. He scrunches his nose and tries to smile. “It’s okay. Didn’t even hurt.”

Your eyes flit down to his splotchy red foot, then back at him. You look more pained by it than he does. “Yes, it did!” you agonize, wrapping your arms around his waist and smushing your cheek into his chest. 

Thankfully, there’s not much coffee left in the mug to spill this time. 

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” you mumble into his t-shirt. “Fuck, I wish I wasn’t so clumsy all the time— it’s annoying.”

Steve laughs into your hair and abandons the pool skimmer to wrap both arms around you. One hand squeezes your shoulder while the other smooths up and down your back. “I don’t think so. I think it’s sweet.”

“…Even when I give you third-degree burns from my coffee?”

He exhales a faint chuckle. “Yeah, even when you give me third-degree burns from your coffee.”

Your cheek rubs against the soft cotton of his t-shirt when you turn to look up at him. Your chin tilts against his chest and bobs as you ask him, “Do you still wanna kiss me?”

A crooked smile tugs slow at his pink mouth. His honey eyes twinkle when they look down at you. He quickly forgets the tingling pain fading at the top of his foot because you’re so damn pretty wrapped up in his arms.

“I’d kiss you forever, baby,” he murmurs so fondly it makes your stomach whirl. “You know that.”

[chilisworld55]

Talk to me | Carlos Sainz c55

🌶️ warnings: none, just fluff and comfort

a/n: hi! i hope you like this and im so sorry for any mistakes, ill try to improve! feel free to leave requests, feedbacks or anything your want to 🫶🏻

Since the news of Hamilton replacing Carlos in ferrari went out, he’s been trying not to be so affected about it but it seems to be impossible.

The Spaniard has been doing great this season, podiums in almost all races, except from the one in which he couldn’t race thanks to his appendicitis, but he got in first place on the next race. Latest race was awful for the tifosi though, both ferraris DNF.

Carlos’ been loaded with a bunch of questions whether it was in interviews or simply social media

“have you signed with another team?”,

“where are you going for next season?”,

“do you think you will have a seat in 2025?”

and many more of this kind…

“Amor…” you called him but his gaze just seems lost in his thoughts.

“Amor, are you okay?” you called him again, walking closer to him. He was sitting at the couch so you got in front of him, your hand caressing his cheek trying to find his gaze.

Once you did, he gave you a little smile but he looked sad. “Perdóname cariño ¿qué pasa?” im sorry, love. what’s wrong? he asks, placing his hand over yours, bringing it closer to his mouth and place a kiss on the back of it.

“what do you mean whats wrong? that’s what I am asking you. you seem off lately, everything is okay? did something happen?” your thumb caressed his cheek, sitting on the little table in front of the sofa.

“no… i mean, yes. everything’s fine, don’t worry” he gave you that little sad smile again and you know him well, he does that every time something’s wrong.

“hey, Carlos please, talk to me. i don’t like seeing you like this” you pout and lean in to leave a little peck on his puffy lips.

“can we cuddle?” he asks with a little voice and you heart melted. you love how his love language is mostly physical touch but when he asks for it? he’s just too cute.

“sure, love… wanna go to out bed or-“ he didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he grabbed you and pulled you on his lap, your legs on each side. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried on your neck.

He just stayed there in absolute silence, breathing slowly and having his eyes closed tight. He just wanted to have you close to him, needing this for a moment.

“im just worried about my career and everything else related to that…” he whispered, finally speaking up after about 10 minutes of silence, burying his face further into you neck if it’s possible.

“is this about your seat for next season?” you ask, hands going up and gently start caressing his hair, your fingers combing it back.

“which i do not have yet… but yes.” he mumbled, fingers playing with one of the stands of your hair and you were about to say something but he interrupted-

“what if i don’t have a seat for next season? what if they find someone million times better and i don’t get to have a seat? what if my career as a f1 driver ends this year? In every interview or every fan that asks me what’s going to happen with me for next season… i don’t know what else to answer”

he’s been overthinking about this so much and you know it, so you are always trying your best in listening to all his concerns and being supportive, always being there for him no matter what.

“Carlos, mi amor, it’s okay to be worried but i don’t really think that your career is going to end this year or any time soon” you whisper, you fingers pulling his chin up just wanting him to look into your eyes. “you are such a great driver, i need you to know that”

“but… i had to retire in the last race… cometí un estúpido error” i made an stupid mistake he looked into your lips, not standing to look into your eyes, feeling so vulnerable as he rarely shows this side of him. “what if the results of the last race affected my opportunities-“

“Carlos don’t do this to yourself” you interrupted him this time. “You are a human being, you make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. Even the best F1 driver of all history makes mistakes!” you ran your fingers over his soft hair once again.

“you’re one of the very few drivers who had won and been in podium at most races during this season. You just had a bad weekend like every other driver. And you know what? next week it’s your home race. And you’re going to be back on podium, okay?” you cupped his cheeks and he finally looked into your eyes with a lovely stare, full of love and admiration for you.

“te amo. te amo muchísimo. lo sabes, verdad?” i love you. i love you so much. you know that. right? He placed his forehead against yours, both of your lips brushing together as you smile widely at his words.

“si, lo sé, yo también te amo mucho” yes, i know, i love you so much as well You kiss him passionately for a couple of seconds, his arms hugging your figure and caressing your sides.

“And for next season and for the rest of this one, you will do so good that ferrari and any other team is going to regret not having you”

“Que afortunado que soy, que he hecho para merecerte, cariño” how lucky i am, what have i done to deserve you, love

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part ten

authors note: none

song inspo: “with me” by destiny’s child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

words: 5.8k

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

You’ve never been a person who was big on holidays. 

Never saw the massive appeal. Easter was annoying cause everyone and they mama showed up to church just to show off their kids silk press and frilly dresses. Halloween was too dark. Valentine’s Day was always a toss up, depending on where you and Amir were at the moment. And 4th of July….fuck America. 

But Christmas…..in recent years, it’s starting to become a holiday you really enjoy. You owe a lot of that to Callie and her pure joy and excitement at the "most wonderful time of the year," for gifts, yes, but she loved celebrating “baby Jesus” birthday just as much.

And you couldn't deny that your town was most beautiful this time of year. Stunningly decorated, there wasn’t a non-resident building in town that wasn’t dressed down in HGTV worthy Christmas decor. Walking through town really felt like walking on the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie. 

And the activities were endless, especially for kids. 

Hence your current whereabouts, sitting on a bench with your mom as Callie partakes with a group of other kids in a workshop with some of ‘Santa’s elves’. Your eyes land on her more often than not, knowing you live in a safe area but never wanting to take any chances. You also notice how talkative she is at the table she’s seated at with another little girl. You smile. Seeing her interact with other kids always makes you happy. Once she gets past her initial shyness, you definitely see sprinkles of your extroverted personality in her. 

Checking your phone from a text from Joe, you can’t avoid the pout when met with empty notifications. 

Your mom, forever perceptive, notices this. “When does he come in?”

“Tomorrow,” you answer, unable to contain the smile on your face. You’re not sure who’s more excited about Joe’s return: you or Callie. Probably her, but you’re not that far behind. 

And not even just for sexual reasons. Yes, that’s definitely up there, but also expected. Because one thing about sex with Joe: it’s addictive. 

Having him like that for the first time in years awakened things in you that you forgot existed. No one could make you come like he could, and he knew it, hence his smug disposition during sex. One thing you were starting to realize was that Joe fucked like Roman, but he made love like Joe, and it was a deadly combination. 

You woke up alone the morning after the date, but you knew that was the case because this man literally flew out for one night just to take you out. And dick you down. 

But Joe being Joe, left you a note, like something out of one of those corny but sweet, romantic indie movies. It was thoughtful, but he’s always been thoughtful. 

That shouldn’t have surprised you. 

Just like you shouldn’t have been surprised to be woken up by Callie jumping on your bed, happy to see you and wanting to catch you up on her fun sleepover with Alexis. Alexis, who made sure that the first thing that she checked was the nightstand where that Plan B absolutely was nowhere to be found. 

Used and discarded in your waste bin. That’s where it was. 

The smirk she sent your way, you just knew she was gonna have a million and one questions. And clearly waiting for Callie to not be present to have that conversation was too much waiting, hence your phone buzzing with texts while you watched Wish with Callie.

Alexis: You dirty whore! I wanna know everything.

You: What’s there to tell? You don’t see the box anymore, do you?

Alexis: Bitch, you know what I mean. It was good, wasn’t it?

You: Girl…..good ain’t the word for it. 😩 I’m so tired and sore right now. He wore my ass out. Had me up all night.

You: I stopped counting after 4.

Alexis: 😖 You have no idea how much I love this for you.

Alexis: I’m also gonna take a wild guess that since you took the plan b, ya’ll didn’t use protection? He came in you, didn’t he? 👀

You: Every.single.time.

Alexis: Oh, he down baddddd. 

Alexis: Shit, do I need to get you some pregnancy tests?

You: NO. It was just last night…..I may have to get on BC because that can’t be a regular thing.

Alexis: Well….don’t you want more kids anyway? 

You: We’re not even dating, and you want me to get knocked up by this man?

Alexis: Bitch, you already have one child. Give her a sibling. 

Alexis: And what do you mean you’re not dating? That is your man. Just own it. 

It was a fun exchange, as are most things with Alexis, and it brought up a valid point. Joe was gonna have to either wrap it up or you were going to need to get back on the pill. 

And you knew better than to tell her that this man literally asked you if you were on the pill and said good when you told him you weren’t. You haven’t given yourself time to process that….later date and time. 

But Joe’s definitely been the subject of several dreams that left you waking up feeling aroused. Hence you counting down the days until his return, yes for Callie, but also because you desperately need your insides rearranged in a way only he can fulfill. 

And you also just miss him. 

Plain and simple.  

“I take it things are going well between ya’ll.” Your mom gives you that all-knowing look that all moms possess. You roll your eyes, and she playfully nudges your shoulder. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. You deserve to be happy. You and Callie.”

“We’re just….I don’t know what we’re doing exactly, but….it is going well.” It seems a bit silly to not acknowledge that you and Joe are dating again, but until he confirms as such, you lean on the side of caution. Granted, you know he’s not fucking anyone else, and you damn sure aren’t either. You speak to each other as often as you can, and there’s seldom a conversation that occurs without one or both of you hinting at the mindblowing sex you’ll have once he returns.

Nope….not dating at all.

“Well, he’s divorced now, isn’t he?” You’d eventually caught your mom up on that important update, knowing that she would never really approve if his wife was still in the picture. She wouldn’t outright say anything, but her demeanor would be telling enough. 

“Yes, but—”

“And he’s obviously very interested in being with you. I don’t need to ask if you’re interested in being with him, and Callie would do well in a healthy two-parent household.”

At that, you stop walking, arm in front of your mom. “Mama….you did amazing raising me all on your own. I owe you so much that it’d be impossible for me to ever repay you.” And it’s the truth. Definitely age and becoming a single mother yourself showed you just how much your mom sacrificed to keep a roof over your head and food in your belly. Your mom truly is your hero.

She smiles warmly, placing her gloved hand over yours. “I appreciate that, baby. But, if you don’t have to struggle, why should you? Joseph seems keen on being in Callie’s life and yours as well. What’s holding you back?”

You chuckle at her final question. “That’s more or less the same thing Alexis said.” Only gone for a couple days, you're starting to miss her too. She's been a great source of support the past couple weeks.

“I always did like that girl. A bit on the wild side, but I like her.” Oh, if your mom knew the extent of what that wildness looked like. Not just for Alexis but yourself. You’re certain your mom would have a heart attack if she knew you were a regular at the strip club in college. So much so that the owner knew you by name and often propositioned you for a job.

You’d be lying if you tried to say you didn’t consider it from time to time. 

“Maybe it’s how we got together,” you guess aloud, sitting back against the bench. “I think I still have some guilt about doing that to his wife.” 

It’s a take you’ve found yourself thinking about more and more over the past couple weeks. She may be out of the picture now, but she wasn’t when you first started messing with Joe. She was still his wife the first time you let him take you to bed, and that’s left a stain on your conscience you’re not entirely sure how to rid yourself of.

“I understand that entirely.” Hearing the change in your mom’s tone has you wondering if it’s truly wise to have this conversation with her. Is it still a sensitive subject? “But it seems they divorced before you even came back in the picture. Do you know why they finally went their separate ways?”

Shaking your head, you inform, “no, and a part of me wants to ask, but when he told me about it, I could see it was difficult for him. He had this….sadness in his eyes. And I don’t think it was because of the divorce itself but….something else.” 

A part of you wants to ask him again, feels like it’s information you should know. But, another part of you doesn’t want to pry too much. If it’s a sensitive subject, you don’t want to reopen any open wounds. 

“Well, if this continues to progress, it may be a discussion that needs to happen. Even if it just gives you a peace of mind.” You know she’s right. It’s just not something you’re ecstatic about having to do. “And you probably should also start thinking about what changes you may have to make for this to continue to work.”

Confused, you ask, “what do you mean?”

“He can’t keep flying in and out sporadically just to see his child. Or you. That’s not fair to any of ya’ll and not sustainable. You’re gonna have to relocate to wherever he lives.”

That….that is not something you’ve thought about until this very moment. You know Joe bends over backwards to make these visits work, but it hadn't occurred to you how long this dynamic could continue. 

Your mom must see the wheels in your head turning, adding, “and think about Callie, once she finds out that’s her daddy, she’s gonna wanna be around him as much as possible. It could be easier if you’re a bit closer.”

You don’t know how true or untrue your mom’s take is, but it’s also another conversation that will have to happen between you and Joe. He’s always on the road in general. Will moving really do anything to help with his visits? Relocating is something you’ve never ever thought about. This is your home. You grew up here. Callie was growing up here. You always saw her growing up here.

But, that was also a version where Joe wasn’t in her life. Now he is. So, of course, some things would change.

You just didn’t imagine that is what would change.

Even if your mom’s guidance now has you wondering what it would be like to have a house together, the three of you, Callie, with an actual backyard she can run around in. Not just limited to the space of your apartment. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Gloria.” She taps your leg, gesturing to her friend’s store. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you sit there, focusing on Callie instead of the nuggets of wisdom your mom just dropped on you. 

“Long time no see, stranger.”

And just like that, you’re regretting ever agreeing to leave your place. You should have just done something at the apartment with Callie. Invited your mom over. Baked some cookies and shit. 

Crossing your arms, you refuse to look his way. “Amir, it’s the happiest time of the year. Please leave me alone, and let me stay in my happy place.”

“You’re still upset with me?” He seems genuinely surprised at this, like you cussing him out in front of your daughter’s preschool wasn’t a good indicator of how upset you were. “Gotta let that shit go.”

“I don’t have to do anything but live, be black, and love my child.” Scooting to your edge of the bench, you tell him again. “Now go away.”

“We clearly need to talk this out—”

“No, we don’t need to do anything because there is no we.” You catch Callie’s eyes and remind yourself that you don’t need a part two of the last time. “I told you before. That’s done and over with. In all areas. You’ll never see my name pop up on your phone ever again.”

And that’s a promise.

“You’re so fuckin’ dramatic.” He’s growing annoyed. If only you cared. “Stop playing. What you doing tomorrow?”

“Sitting on my man’s face.”

Your answer seems to take him back. “He still around?” You don’t say anything. “You’re not stupid enough to be fucking him again, are you?”

“Amir, the only reason I was ever fucking you was because he wasn’t around, but he’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere. And without hurting your feelings before Christmas, I can promise you, dick is not something I will ever want or need from anyone else ever again.”

He scoffs, just looking at you with disgust. “Mariah was right. That nigga really does have you acting different.”

At that, your head snaps in his direction. “What did you just say?” Instantly, you see it. The regret in his face in realizing he’s fucked up. “Why were you talking to Mariah?” Your best friend couldn’t take your calls or texts, but she had time to fill your ex in on your private life? “When?”

He looks off, trying to hide the guilty expression you’ve already clocked. “We ran into each other at the store the other day.”

Lie.

Scoffing, you lean back against the bench. And you laugh. All you can do is laugh because never in a million years would you have put these pieces together, but it makes so much sense. 

“Yeah, you can get the fuck away from me. Now.” Seeing him about to open his mouth again, you decide to separate yourself. “Fine. I’ll leave.” 

And you do just that, moving to another available bench where you can still keep a close eye on Callie. It seems they’re nearing the end of the activity. One glance over to your previous seat, you see that Amir is gone. 

Good. 

Pulling out your phone, you send a simple text. 

You: If you were too busy riding Amir’s average dick to message me back, you could have just said so.

There’s barely any time for you to slide your phone back into your purse when it beeps.

Mariah: ??????

It actually takes a lot in you not to call and cuss her out right then and there. You’ve been trying to get in contact with her for weeks and the minute you send her that, she remembers how to reply?

“Mommy!”

You’re grateful for Callie’s distraction. Smile on your face, you see she’s approached you with not only the little girl at her table but a man also wearing a friendly expression.

“This is my new friend! Her name is Taylor!” Taylor appears to be the same or around the same age as Callie, box braids styled into two space buns, and she and Callie share giggles like they’ve been friends for years. In a weird sort of way, she reminds you a lot of Callie. 

“It seems the girls have connected,” the man speaks with a chuckle. He offers his hand. “I’m Darius. Taylor’s dad.”

Your phone goes off and you quickly glance, hoping it’s Joe.

Mariah: Can we talk?

Instantly, you reorient yourself to the conversation at hand. 

“It appears they have,” you agree, offering your name and asking, “are you from around here?”

“Naw. Just visiting some family. Me and my wife.” He looks around. “She should be somewhere around here. Her parents only live about an hour out, so they came to meet us.”

“Oh, cool.” Glancing at the girls, you recognize that plotting look on Callie’s face and wait patiently. Coyly, you share with Darius, “I believe a request is coming.”

“Oh, most definitely.” 

Sure enough, Callie is holding onto your leg, face peering up at you. “Mommy, can we see the fireworks tomorrow?” That’s certainly not what you expected to hear her ask. Callie has never been too big on fireworks. When she was younger, you’d have to lay in bed with her and soothe her to sleep because they made her nervous. Now she wants to go to an actual show? “Taylor is going too, right Taylor?”

Taylor nods happily. “And my mommy and grandma and grandpa.”

It's like the mentioning of additional parties triggers something for her, Callie offering suddenly, “Joe can come too!” 

That gives you a pause. Joe’s never gone out in public with the two of you, outside of the hospital, but that doesn’t necessarily count. It was an emergency, not happy hour.

There’s a bit of anxiety, even though you know your town is the perfect place to do so. You’d put your head on the chopping board that less than five people would actually approach him, asking for autographs and such. They might recognize him, but they’d never approach. 

It’ll also be the first time Callie can refer to him as her father instead of just Joe.

Finally deciding, you answer, “if you want to, baby.” 

You and Darius share a laugh as the girls rejoice together. He pulls out his phone and offers, “why don’t I give you my wife’s number? You two can communicate regarding the meetup and whatnot.”

“Yeah, of course.” Exchanging information, you program Bianca Johnson into your phone, sending her a text after Darius says he’s already messaged her regarding Taylors new best friend. 

It’s in programming the number though that you see an incoming call from Mariah. It’s an immediate decline. 

Mariah: Would you pick up the damn phone, please?

Navigating to her thread, you put her on mute. It’s almost Christmas. You refuse to allow her or anyone else to ruing this for you or Callie. 

________

Personally, you believe that there should be a mandatory set time for Children to wake up on Christmas. Preferably, any time after 10am. 12pm would be even better but highly unlikely given most kids go to bed extra early on Christmas Eve. Callie is no different. You and Joe get her down by 6:30pm which should have given you ample time to bake cookies, finish wrapping her gifts, the whole nine yards.

If only you two had a better sense of self-control, because the minute you were confident Callie was out for the night, he had you bent over the kitchen island. And that was….that was fine, because you’d been thinking about him being inside you from the moment he stepped foot in your place. Hell, from the moment he left. 

But then you somehow ended up riding him on the living room floor, his back propped up against the sofa as you bounced on his dick, surrounded by the toys you should have been wrapping for your daughter. And while you eventually did get the gifts wrapped and cookies baked, you weren’t even able to change from out of your towel and into pajamas when this man propped you on your bathroom counter, spread your legs, and ate you out like he’d been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights. 

It wasn’t entirely surprising. Joe’s always had a big appetite for sex, for you. Not that you were any better. And the fact of the matter was that having a kid meant you had to take advantage of the little free time you had, which you clearly did. 

But it was now coming to bite you in the ass, because it’s goddamn 9 o’clock in the morning, and Callie is jumping up and down on your bed when all you want to do is sleep for another ten hours.

“Mommy! Joe! Santa came!”

It’s nearly impossible to hold in your groan, so you suppress it by turning over and pressing yourself into Joe. Of course, he’s already got his arm around you, holding you against his body. He’s also still knocked out. 

Finding the strength, you shove on his chest. “Wake up.” It’s a bit incoherent, sleep still heavy in you and hindering your speech. Blinking your eyes open to allow the sun shining from the open curtains (courtesy of Callie) to motivate you to get your ass up, you punch him in his stomach. “Joe.”

He grunts, and you smile. “She’s up.” 

Pleased with the fulfillment of her alarm clock duties, she jumps off the bed, yelling, “come on!”

At that, you sit up from the mattress, scolding her, “Calista Manaia Anoa’i, you got one more time to jump off this bed, sis!” Looking back to see Joe still trying to wake up, you shove him again. “You better get your daughter before she gets punished on Christmas.”

This helps to stir him as he lays on his back, hand on his forehead. “Leave her alone.” It takes a minute for you to refocus. His voice in general is sexy as hell, but that morning voice is something dangerous. 

“Her ass is always trying to jump on and off shit.” Kicking off the blankets, you stretch and make your way into the bathroom to do your hygiene routine. Joe is not too far behind, coming in a few minutes later, slapping your ass as you’re bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. “Behave,” you warn. The two of you share the sink and counter space to get ready with you finishing first. 

Back in the room, you make up the bed and check your phone, sending out a few, quick Merry Christmas texts, Bianca included. Even though you’ve only texted since yesterday, she seems pretty chill and you have a couple of things in common, kids around the same age, both working as teachers. It’s just unfortunate that she lives further down South. You’re not sure how you’re gonna break that to Callie, but that’s a task for another day. 

Today is an exciting, happy occasion, and you’re not gonna let anything or anyone ruin it. 

Joe is suddenly behind you, arms around your waist and mouth on the side of your neck. 

“Merry Christmas, baby” he murmurs, pressing kisses against your skin. 

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you turn around and lean up to kiss him. “Merry Christmas.” Hands on his chest, you ask, “You ready?”

He looks at you, clearly thinking about what you’re asking. This is what he’d been building up to, but you’re certain there’s some level of anxiety. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he finally answers. You’re not certain if he’s speaking more to you or himself. 

“She’s gonna be happy, Joe. I promise.” Stealing one more kiss, you take his hand. “Come on. She’s gonna start getting impa—”

“Come on!” She shouts from the living room, and you give him a look. 

“That’s your child.” His chuckle follows you out of the bedroom and into the living room where Callie is literally bouncing on the heels of her feet near the Christmas tree. You’re not entirely certain, but you could have sworn there weren’t as many gifts there when you left for your shower and eventually bed. 

“It’s Christmas!” Running over to Joe who swoops her up and kisses her cheek as she tells him Merry Christmas, you patiently wait for your turn, giving her a kiss and hug too before she’s pulling the both of you over to the tree. 

Using your phone, you snap photos and record intermittent videos of her opening her gifts. And in doing so, you’re certain Joe added a couple more when you were in the shower. He’s definitely that dad who doesn’t see an issue with spoiling the shit out of his kid. And as long as Callie remains kind and respectful, you won’t stop him. He’ll definitely hear about it tonight, but you won’t actually interfere.

Alexa playing Christmas songs in the background helps to set the tone as well. Mostly Mariah Carey because it’s literal law that one must listen to All I Want for Christmas is You on Christmas day. Really, starting the day after Halloween. 

You don’t make the rules. 

Literal fucking law. 

Callie suddenly pulls a gift, small and rectangular shaped, that you definitely don’t remember wrapping. “Mommy, it’s for you!” Thinking it’s something she made for you, you put your phone down and take it only to recognize that the writing is clearly too nice to be written by a child, not to mention that it has your name instead of mommy. 

Your eyes land on him. “Joe….what is this?”

“Open it,” he encourages, waiting patiently.

Still in somewhat belief he would actually get you something, you rip off the packaging and gasp. You almost drop it reading the brand name written in gold calligraphy. “Chanel? Thee Chanel?”

“Who’s Chanel, mommy?” 

“It’s a brand, baby,” you answer, distracted because you’re still stuck on the fact that you’re actually holding in your hand something that had to cost at least a thousand dollars. If not a couple thousand. 

“Open it, mommy,” Callie presses. This girl is both nosy but also loves to see people receive gifts. 

And so, you open it, gasping louder this time.

“Joe…..” It’s absolutely stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. Gold. An intricately decorated ‘C’ pendant with a diamond in the middle. C for Chanel for most people. C for your heartbeat for you. “It’s beautiful….” 

He moves over to you, helping to remove it from the box. As your hair is already up in a messy bun, he has no difficulty placing it around you, as Callie exclaims happily, “it’s a C!.”

“C for Callie,” you answer her, cupping her cheek before turning to Joe. “Thank you…..” Pulling him in for a hug, there’s something so emotional about this moment, something pure. You’ve never felt so cared for by anyone.

Never felt so loved. 

He kisses your temple. “You never have to thank me for anything I do for you.” 

Hating the fact that tears are brimming your eyes, you punch his shoulder, needing to not be so emotional. “You should have told me you got me something. Now I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.” 

Thumb caressing your cheek, he answers, softly. “You already did.” Confused, his eyes discreetly focus on Callie who’s back trying to figure out which toy she wants to play with first.

That….that does something to you. 

You look at him, ready to say something, when you see it. See it in his eyes. A deep level of appreciation that indicates a story, a reason as to why this means the world to him. There’s something there. Something more he’s not saying, but you know it’s neither the time nor the place. 

Now….now is the time for something else. 

“Baby.” It’s surprisingly easy to catch Callie’s attention, so you pat the space in between the two of you. “Come here. We need to talk to you about something.” 

Wordlessly, she plops right between ya’ll with that naturally inquisitive expression. 

“Callie….” Joe feeling a bit nervous made sense to you, and you expected as such. But you never thought about your own trepidation in this moment. It’s difficult, but you do your best to push it away. “Do you….do you remember when you asked me about your dad?” She nods. “And why…..why you didn’t have one?”

She nods again, Joe this time grabbing her attention. “Callie, do you know why I came back in your mom’s life?”

She thinks about his question, answering tentatively, “because you missed mommy?”

He chuckles. “That’s true. I did miss her. A lot.” You try not to think too much about his words, to not make this moment about you or you and him. It’s about Callie. “But, I mostly came back because I wanted to meet you.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He nods, “Calista, you are the sweetest, kindest, and smartest kid that I have ever met. And I love every second that I get to spend with you.” Joe brings his hand to gently palm her face. “And I especially love being your dad.” 

You’re not quite sure if you’re breathing or even fully present in the few seconds it takes for Callie to process what he’s just said. But then, you see it, a smile that could light up times square. “Really?” She snaps her head in your direction, looking for confirmation. “Mommy, is Joe really my daddy?”

Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes. Damn feelings. You’ve been way too emotional lately. “He sure is, baby.” 

Squealing, she literally throws herself against him, hugging him tightly. “It’s the best Christmas ever!”

“I love you, Callie.” Joe shuts his eyes, taking in this moment, kissing the top of her head. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you too, daddy!” If you could capture this moment, capture those words leaving her mouth, forever keep them as a keepsake to be preserved for all time, you would. Because it’s everything you’ve ever wanted for her. To know she’s wanted and loved by both her parents. And finally, that moment is no longer a hope but a reality. 

“Wait!” She suddenly pulls away, grabbing the picture she’d drawn for Joe and given to him as a Christmas gift. “I’ll be back!”

He looks over at you. “What is she—” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you answer with a murmur, still partially overcome with emotion. 

However, Callie is back in a matter of minutes with that beautiful smile on her face. Flipping it over, she exclaims, “I fixed it.” 

Your eyes immediately land on what she “fixed,” and your heart swells. She’s crossed out Joe’s name with a black marker and instead written above it “daddy.”

“I love it.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you move closer to him, laying against his side. Wanting to be with him in this precious moment. 

Callie wasn’t lying.

This truly is the best Christmas. 

________

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” 

Callie’s animated voice somehow travels to you and Joe despite all of the hustle and bustle occurring around you, the sea of bodies waiting for the fireworks show to begin. There’s not much distance between the two of you and her, enough for Joe to grab her if need be. 

You walk close with him, you hands locked around his bicep.

His discomfort is obvious, so you assure, “relax. You’re not the tribal chief around here.” He glances at you. “They may notice you, but they’ll leave you alone. Especially since it’s Christmas.”

This seems to relieve him as she explains, “tonight is about her. I just don’t want to take away from that.”

“And you won’t, I promise. Just….just be present in this moment.” He takes your hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. Continuing to walk with him, your eyes land on Taylor, Darius, and a woman who, even from a distance, looks vaguely familiar. 

“Taylor!” 

Callie rushes over to her new best friend, and the two embrace. You almost wish you had your phone out to take a picture. The woman wears a friendly smile, but instantly, something feels off. She approaches you, asking, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you’re shocked when she pulls you in for a hug and then apologizes. “I'm sorry. I’m a hugger, and I just feel like I know you already.” 

Callie takes this moment to jump back in the conversation, rushing over to Joe and introducing, “this is my daddy!”

That settles some of your anxiety. You’re not certain you’ll ever get tired of hearing her refer to him as such, and you know he won’t either.

“Man, uhh, hi, nice–nice to meet you.” Immediately, you know that Darius most definitely recognizes Joe. “Big fan.”

“Thanks, man.” Joe, understandably, keeps it simple, and you clear your throat. 

“Thank you for arranging this with us. Callie seems to really like Taylor.”

“Taylor too,” Bianca expresses with a smile, as you realize she also has dimples. It’s a little thing, stupid, but as much as you try, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. “I swear, you would think they’ve known each other for years.”

Joe chuckles. “They’ve hit it off pretty well.”

“I’m sorry.” You hate being so off-putting and direct, especially given all of your text exchanges with this woman have gone so well, but you have to ask, “have we m—-”

“Bianca!”

A woman’s voice calls out, interrupting your conversation. 

She looks past you and smiles, waving whoever it is over. “My parents,” she informs. “Over here!”

Callie and Taylor are immersed in a conversation, as you make eye-contact with Joe who gives you that ‘what’s wrong?’ expression. Answering truthfully, you shrug and murmur, “I don’t know.”

The presence of Taylor’s grandparents snatches her attention from Callie. “Grandpa!”

Turning around, you manage a small, inauthentic smile to introduce yourself when you see it. And everything is suddenly ten ways wrong. 

There’s a brief second where you question yourself, question your vision, question your entire existence. But as he smiles, holding and kissing his grandchild on the cheek, you just know, know that you’re not wrong.

“Dad,” Bianca speaks, but you’re someplace else, someplace much different. “This is Y/N and…..”

She’s talking, but you’ve completely dissociated. You can’t say anything, paralyzed with shock and an overwhelming feeling of heartache. 

That’s why she looked so familiar. You saw her that day at the precinct, coming into his office to inform him of her sibling’s misbehavior. This is his daughter.

This is your sister. 

The daughter he picked over you. 

And this is your father. 

You’re going to be sick.

Partially aware of Joe’s suddenly cautious gaze on you, you place one hand over your stomach. “Excuse….excuse me….I—” You feel like you’re going to pass out, like four walls surround and are gradually closing in on you. Your throat is about to close up. “I have to go.” And you run, you run as far as your legs can take you, away from that situation, away from that visceral blast from the past, away from the overwhelming emotions that are threatening to overcome you. 

And you don’t stop.

[cupidsanne]

Do you take requests? I would love to read Mike Faist and reader as parents headcanons <3

Mike Faist And You As Parents ✢ Headcanons

Mike Faist x Female Insert! Reader

SYNOPSIS! ✦ Headcanons of you and Mike as parents!!

WARNINGS! ✦ If you don’t like children then you probably don’t wanna read this, none, sfw!

NOTES! ✦ IM SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG & I LOVE THIS REQUEST. I have some draft ideas and i was thinking of making a series of Dad! AKA husband! mike, gonna make the reader female insert + I have name ideas for their possible kids. As for now, keeping the kids names and details vague as possible. Sorry that this is kinda short!

Mike Faist Masterlist .

— Very ecstatic the minute your child was born. When word got out to him that you were in labor, he dropped everything and rushed to get you.

— The baby’s birthday would be a moment in history that neither you or him could forget. A day filled with so much long awaited anxiety that blossomed into an overwhelming amount of joy.

— After you, he was the first person to hold the baby. He smiled down at them with tearful eyes, heart filled with love and adoration. He didn’t want to put the baby down at all, as he kept muttering “Thank you.” and “I love you.” to you as you smiled exhaustively.

— When it was time to bring the baby home, he was so happy. He had the car all ready, than opened the door for you to sit first while he installed the baby carefully into the car seat. Gentleman through and through, after all those 9 months during your pregnancy and the demanding 12 hours of labor, he just wants you to be as comfortable as much as you can.

— One thing about you and Mike, you both like to be prepared and ahead. Already was the nursery set up, as well as some warm pajamas, and extra necessities you needed for the baby’s stay.

— He knew this day was coming, so he decided to decline any future projects that he didn’t sign up for yet that requested him, so he could be there for you and the baby. You stated multiple times that he didn’t have to, but he insisted.

— He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the baby, it felt surreal that they were out of your stomach and out in person.

— He’s catering to the baby all day, letting you get your rest. You have to tell him a couple times to let you help!! You don’t want him to overwork himself.

— The baby-toddler phase is his favorite despite the sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and reckless wondering. He loves this kid with all his heart, he wouldn’t mind more but he’s fine with just one for now.

If You Two Had A Boy . . . !

— Your son is such a curious little being. He’s a joy and loves to learn and talk about everything and anything!

— Your son’s personality contrasts a bit with Mike, Mike has a reserved demeanor and can get shy sometimes, while your son is very bold and outspoken. Despite that, the two click very well. Mike is a great listener to your son’s stories or questions about everything, he’s never gonna leave your little boy unheard. Even if your son has a million questions to ask, Mike is gonna listen and try to answer all of them.

— Mike doesn’t really baby talk, so it feels like a natural conversation at times. Of course he knows what to and what not to tell a kid, but he thinks baby talk isn’t really helpful. Especially because you know how kids vocabulary is in the beginning, he thinks baby talk could get them mixed up and stuff. You love to see the boys chat together just casually in the car, despite your son’s speech not 100% perfect like an adult, Mike still responds back and can understand him, on the occasion he’ll correct his way of words kindly.

— Mike isn’t a big sports buff, but he’s still really into it and doesn’t mind getting his son into it too. A sport he quite enjoys is baseball, so he’ll take his son outside to play catch. How they play is fun to see, especially if your son is younger and you see their height difference! It doesn’t faze your son though, Mike’s a great teacher and gives him all the best tips. He even takes your son to a park to play sometimes! (They were forced to go after accidentally aiming a ball through one of your windows!)

— Both your son and Mike are your biggest fans. Occasionally they bicker between each other on who you love more, and you always jokingly pick the dog. Even when they do playfully bicker or fight, you’ll be on your son’s side because he’s your baby boy! Your son thinks it’s funny whenever you coddle him and beg him to be little again, he always retaliates with “No, no, I’m a big kid!”

— Whether your son gets into sports or anything else like the performing arts, Mike is gonna be over the top with support. Always at games or recitals, asking them if they’ve done enough practice, and so on. He’s definitely the type of dad where if the kid likes it, he loves it. You’re the exact same way.

If You Two Had A Girl . . . !

— Your sassy ‘mini-me’!! She’s also very curious and talkative, and a bit of a fashionista!

— Your daughter likes to know everything and always wants to have her way. Again, she contrasts Mike a bit. Although, they have a great relationship! Your daughter loves Mike more than anything, and she’s always calling him to the rescue whenever she needs it. He’ll never deny helping her, but there are a few times where he has to put his foot down for whenever she doesn’t get her way.

— No matter what gender or how many kids you have, you’re the one who might have enabled the spoiled-ness, but you can’t help it! They’re so cute, how can you ever deny these kids?!

— You love to style her outfits and hair so she can have a cute yet comfy look! As a toddler, she’s always on the go and you don’t want her all decked out knowing she’s going to be running around and possibly having some spills. As she gets a bit older though, you’ll learn that she loves to dress up!

— Your daughter loves the compliments, especially from her dad! Every time he’s home and she shows him her outfit or a new hairstyle, she’s always asking “What’d you think Daddy?”

— And every time, he’s going to give her a compliment and a kiss on the cheek. She doesn’t mind spinning around for him to see or pointing specifically to her favorite accessory that’s on her outfit. You two laugh at her enthusiasm and don’t mind hyping her up! Even though she’s sassy, she’s not impolite and she’ll always say “Thank you!”

— Like stated way above, Mike and you are gonna be one of her biggest supporters in whatever she’s into as she gets older. Sports, Dancing, You name it! You guys may not be experts at everything, but whatever your kids need, you two will do it. <3

[webslingingslasher]

It's Better On Top

i relate cause this was me a few months ago.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: small smut scene, overprotective brothers and a small spiral of panic

Summary: you've always wanted to sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed, it was sacrier than you thought and you need your boyfriend to help you get down

There was a child-like wonder to Peter’s room. 

The wall’s were a muted tone, chosen by whichever maintenance man who hated the idea of color. To make up for the lack of personality he’s added his own. Posters from being a tween till now, you could make out the older ones by the wrinkles in the edges. Pictures from all ages bounced around the room, ones with May, Ned and you. You always liked to fawn over his childhood ones, he looked so small and loving. He’d gladly follow you in the back of the van to see your new puppy, a favorite is one where he’s perched on May’s shoulders so happy to be up high. 

Awards and certificates of his genius covered any empty spots, only small peeks of the bland wall poked through. He had trinkets all around, figurines and collectables. He kept his prized ones on a shelf where he dusted once a week, the others floated on shelves, windowsills, or his desk. And the legos, he had sets everywhere, he hated breaking them apart after. It wasn’t about maintaining a pretty thing, it was about appreciating his frustration, concentration, and pride. 

He can do hard things because they turn out beautiful in the end. 

You caught the loose pieces, tucked in a plastic tub under his bed. 

His bed. Your favorite part of his room, he had something you’ve always wanted before. You begged your parents for years but they never delivered, you never had friends with one either. They just looked so fun, a permanent sleepover. Something to open the room, more space to play. When you first came over to his house you stood in awe, he had one. It was too soon to ask, and you waited until the moment striked. 

Tonight was the night you would finally fulfill your childhood dreams and sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed. 

“Question.” 

Peter looked up from his desk for a moment, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth slunk back in. He answered your words with a raised eyebrow, he grunted looking at his suit sewing up the shoulder. 

“Can I sleep on the top bunk tonight?” 

His eyes flickered up to the top, then back to his suit. 

“Why do you wanna do that? I sleep on the bottom bunk, you know.” He tugged the thread tightly. 

You do know, you’ve never been on top though. It felt like a summer camp, as you imagine. You’ve never been to one, you wonder if Peter has. To sleep in the same room as Peter, arm lengths away, to have him softly snoring underneath you as you count the stress fractures on his ceiling sounded blissful. 

“I’ve never slept on a bunk bed.” 

Peter looks at you and grins, “You sleep on it with me.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah but I’ve never had the sleepover bunk bed experience.” 

He drops his hands for a moment, “You never told me that, we could’ve done that ages ago baby.” 

You perk up, “So tonight?” 

Peter smiles softly, “I don’t know the last time the sheets were washed, I’ll set it up for you and I promise next time you can.” 

You bounce up and down on his bed, you can’t help yourself. You’re just so excited, you leap up to cross the room to press kisses to his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He laughed as he lightly pushed you off him, “If I had known it would make you this happy I would’ve had you up there a million times by now.” 

You squeeze at him before clasping your hands, “It’s gonna be so fun, Petey. It’ll be like summer camp!” 

He raised an eyebrow, “Does that make me your counselor?” 

You ran your index finger down his chest and lowered your voice, “Shit sexy, you could be my camp director.” 

He matched your energy, “I’ll direct your camp.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, right before you broke it he sucked a breath through his teeth. 

“That was bad.” 

“It was.” 

“Swing and a miss.” 

“If you’re on my mound you won’t be missing.” 

Peter fake gagged, “You’re just as bad as me, get away you’re radiating bad flirting vibes and it’s affecting me.” 

You gasp and smack his shoulder, “Take it back! I’m not a bad flirt!” 

He nods and puts on a dumb voice, “Okay.” 

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, Peter takes in your movements and gasps.

“Don’t you dare.” 

“I will if you don’t take it back.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re radiating bad flirting vibes.” 

“That’s it, you have two seconds or the legislation is being enacted.” 

Peter holds his breath and winces, he’s not breaking. Neither are you. 

“I tried being reasonable, Parker. You’ve lost kissing privileges until you repent for your sins against hot, excellent flirter girlfriends.” 

He holds a fist in the air and cries out, “Noooooo!” 

“That doesn’t sound like an apology to me, me and my lonely lips are going back to your bed, where they will stay until I get a heartfelt apology.” 

Peter pulled at the thread on his needle with his teeth snapping it. He tossed his suit on his desk and pulled at your arm as you walked away from him, spinning you around he pulled you into his lap and kissed you repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Each apology wrapped with a kiss. You giggled and kicked your feet and you pushed at his jaw but he insisted on kissing your jaw and neck. 

“Okay, okay! Sins repented!” 

“Did I do enough hail mary’s, my priest?” A wet kiss placed at your jawline. 

“What kind of roleplay is this?” Peter jumped slightly, May was leaning in the doorway. 

“I had to repent for my sins, May. I was just making sure I was in the clear.” 

“He said I had bad flirting vibes, May. The boy had to be punished.” 

May ran one index finger over the over in a ‘shame’ motion, “Shame.” 

Peter groaned, “I repented! The priest gives me the pass, go back to Jeopardy, May.” 

May raised her hands, “Alright, children of god. Dinner in an hour.” 

She turned slowly as she walked away, “No more sinning under my roof, Peter. You’re on thin ice as is.” 

He turned to whisper to you, “Did she just tell me I was going to hell?” 

You nodded quickly and matched his tone, “Yeah baby, she did.” 

Peter scoffed and looked at his suit with a sigh, “And just when a guy thinks he’s won enough good karma he’s tossed back in the hole.” 

“I bet it's lonely down there.” 

“And cold.” 

“I picture rain.” 

“Yeah, but it’s only on me so I can’t escape it.” 

“Like one of those cartoons with the clouds above their head?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Damn. Well, I’ll send a postcard from heaven.” 

“That is literally so toxic, get off of me.” 

You threw your head back laughing as Peter lightly pushed at your thighs.

—----------------------

You couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed your face, Peter Parker was many things but number one on the list is best boyfriend ever. 

He had sent you a picture of the top bunk, it was taken from the ladder. A new set of sheets and your favorite throw blanket you kept on the couch was tucked in the corners of the bed. His childhood teddy bear was tucked in the railing against the wall, a small paper he wrote on was taped to the wall, you couldn’t read it over the phone. 

‘Guess who’s gonna have the best sleepover of their life.’ Was the text sent with it, you couldn’t help but send one back of your cheesy grin. ‘Did I ever mention how much I love you?’

‘Once or twice, it doesn't hurt to hear it again.’

‘I love my handsome, thoughtful boyfriend.’

He sent a questioning emoji, ‘You have another boyfriend?’

‘It’s amazing how you can be lovely and toxic at the same time.’

‘Like a fuckin mirror babe.’

You grunted at the phone with narrowed eyes. 

‘Be safe tonight, don’t die pls.’

‘I have a very important sleepover and my girlfriend is losing her bunk bed virginity, (twice) so I can’t die, the gods have spoken it into existence.’

‘Just for that comment, I lied. I wasn’t a virgin.’ 

‘Trust me, you were.’

You sent a grumpy face, ‘I’ll see you tonight, I love you.’ 

‘Love you too, baby.’

You could hardly count the minutes down until Peter got back from patrol and sent you the come over text, as silly as it was it felt like it was healing your inner childhood. Not to mention, unknown to you, Peter totally leaned into it and was committed to give you the best sleepover ever, snacks and drinks and take out and movies and everything you could want at a sleepover was carefully planned. 

Staring at your dresser you contemplated showing up in pajamas or bringing a bag, you figured you should bring some real clothes just in case but you were committed to wearing one of his shirts with some pajama shorts, ones he would say were delicious on you. They were too short for you to bravely wear them on the bus so you begged your brother to take you, it only cost you twenty bucks, he let you off easy. 

You knew he was busy swinging and you always hated the idea of sending him a text while he was possibly in the middle of kicking someone's ass and throwing him off, however, this was life or death.

‘Are we eating at yours or should I eat here?’

‘I planned on chinese, I should be home in an hour or two.’ 

"Sounds yummy, let me know when you’re on the way home, it only cost me a twenty to get a ride.’ 

‘Highway robbery, man up and strap some webshooters to those wrists.’ 

‘I’d die and you would be happy.’ 

‘Cash in on that life insurance.’ 

‘I knew you were with me for my money.’ 

‘And dat ass.’ 

‘I’m taking a shower.’ 

“Ooh, take a picture.’ 

—--------------------------------

You resorted to painting your toenails and watch a quick murder mystery video on youtube while you waited for Peter to call, the waiting was always the hardest part, you were selfish and wanted him when you wanted him, you just had to remind yourself it’s just like he has a normal job but with better flexibility. 

It didn’t make it easier, you still wanted Peter more than the city deserved Spider-Man. You would never tell him that. 

You steady your hand as you applied the second coat, you took the shower first and wouldn’t be able to wash away the color that went out of line. 

Your phone lit up with a picture of Peter, he was rubbing at his eye with a soft grin, caught before a yawn. It was the morning of a sleepover and you caught him before he made you breakfast and smothered you in kisses between May’s wandering eyes. 

“Hello lover.” You drawled out the words like you weren’t waiting for his call.

“Hey trouble.” His voice was as smooth as aged scotch on the rocks

You heard him breathe in quickly as the air wooshed by him, he was heading home you assume. 

“I’m gonna stop and get us dinner, head over in ten, okay baby?”

“Get me soup too, please!” 

“Got it. Wait, should I get your brother something?” 

“Are you trying to wine and dine my sibling?” You giggle into the phone.

“I’m trying to make him like me.” 

“Crab rangoons are a start.” 

“He’s gonna be my bitch in five years, just you wait.” 

“Playing the long game are you?” 

“You know, if you want to slip how good of a boyfriend I am for fulfilling your childhood dream on that car ride I wouldn’t object.” 

“Petey, honey. He doesn’t give a shit about my childhood dreams.” 

“Siblings are brutal. Thank god I’m an only child.” 

“I’ll get him to come inside, you can bro hug or whatever and give him his rangoons and he’s guaranteed gonna tell me you’re cool later in private.” 

“You’re the bestest, see you soon, trouble.” 

“Love youuuuu.” 

The second you hung up you nearly kicked the door in at your brother's room and told him he had five minutes before he had to tote you across town, per agreement.

Minutes later you were riding in silence as he blasted a new playlist, you would never admit it but you found some good songs from him. At a red light he rested his hand on his gear shift, picking at his bottom lip he tried subtle conversation. 

“Are you gonna need a ride home tomorrow or will the kid take care of it?” 

“If you don’t feel like picking me up then Peter, my boyfriend, will take me home.” Then follow up with, “Or maybe stay another night.” 

He shakes his head quickly, “I’ll pick you up, just text me when.” 

“He’s coming on the trip this year, you have to be nice. He’s nice, he’s good to me.” You say his name softly, he’s told you before that it’s just him fearing for your heartbreak, something Peter could cause and he would have to watch you heal from that. He knows how true heartbreak feels and he would never want you to feel that too, he thought he was dying. 

He accelerated at the green light. 

“I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.” 

You sigh, “You can call him by his name, you won’t summon him I promise.” 

“He’s nice, I’ll throw you that bone.” 

“Just nice?” 

“He seems to treat you alright, rare to have a freakishly chivalrous guy this day in age.” 

“I’m telling Peter you said that, he’s so anxious about you hating him. He is so desperate for your approval it’s kinda sad.” 

“Don’t! Intimidation is the only thing I have over him.” 

You know he jokes about messing Peter up if he dares dump you but you know it’s all talk. 

“You really think Peter’s gonna dump me?” 

“Between the two of you? Yeah. You could never do it.” 

You snort, “He said the exact same about himself.” 

Your brother just hums and turns the music back up, there was no need to ask for directions, he’s been on this route hundreds of times in the past almost year. 

When he pulled to the curb you made a puppy dog face, “will you please come up? I have something you need to bring home and I don’t want to have to go up and down twice.” 

He pulled his eyebrows in, “You can’t bring it home tomorrow?” 

Shit. 

“No, mom needs it now. I forgot to ask Peter to bring it over earlier.” 

“What is it?” 

“C’mon, please! It’ll take five minutes.” 

He stared at you before groaning and throwing his seat belt off, ripping the key from the ignition. Without waiting on you he opened his door and started walking to the entrance making you scramble to escape the seat and power walking to catch up. 

You walked in on him mass spamming the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, “what floor is the kid on again?” 

“Peter.” you enunciated, “Lives on floor seven.” 

“Right.” 

He knocked, no, pounded on the door. Peter swung the door open fast, half worried you were desperate to get in but rather met with your brother's face. He quickly reset himself and smiled before opening the door for you to enter, Peter held out his hand for a shake with a nod of his name. 

Your brother shook his hand firmly, “Pecker.” 

“Peter!” you corrected, loudly. 

Peter waved it off, “close enough.” Then made his way to you leaning in for a quick kiss, “Hi, trouble.” You couldn’t help the smile. “Hi, handsome.” He gave you a squeezing hug and mumbled in your ear as he softly swayed you, “I missed you,” 

Your brother let out a gag, “alright what did you need me to bring home, this place reeks of Parker.”

“Ah! I got you these,” he hopped into the kitchen to grab the small take away box. “Crab rangoons.” Peter nodded at the container as he handed it out, your brother took it wearily, “I don’t normally accept bribes but this one slides, that’s-“ he made eye contact with you, “very nice of you.” 

You nodded your head and couldn’t help the growing grin, then he realized your game and gave a nod at Peter then turned to leave he pointed at you, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I can bring her home.”

Your brother looked over his shoulder at him, then repeated himself “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

When the door shut loudly Peter looked at you with an excited face, “that went well, right? He only referred to me as a penis once!” You smiled before grabbing at his shoulders moving him to the couch and straddling him, Peter rested his palms on your thighs lightly tapping them, his eyebrows raised waiting for you to talk. 

“He didn’t want me to tell you this but because I love you, and I’m starting to feel extreme pity for you-“ 

“Thanks, baby.” A squeeze. 

“-Welcome, he told me in the car that he thinks you’re nice and you treat me freakishly well, so in his words, “I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.””

“At this rate he may even tolerate me by the time we go on vacation.” 

You squeeze his shoulders and place a chaste kiss to his mouth, “The rangoons just put you at not complaining if you come over for dinner level.” 

Peter threw his head back, “Let’s goooooo.” 

You let out a small sigh, he tried so hard. “It’s not personal Pete, he just doesn’t want you to hurt me and not that he would admit it, I think a part of him doesn’t want to like you because if we were to ever split he would miss you too.” 

He pulls a dumb face, “okay but has he considered we won’t break up, like ever?” 

You shrug, “Yeah, about that..” 

Peter rolls his eyes and flips you to pin you to the couch, “you stop it, woman. I am going to wine, dine and bed you before banishing you from mine tonight.” 

“Don’t wanna make the bed rock from up top?” 

“And have my head whack the ceiling a million times? No.” 

“I could be on top.” 

“And have you whack your head on the ceiling? Absolutely not.” 

“You’re such a gentleman, do you have any objections to making the couch rock?” 

Peter dropped his jaw and scoffed, he looked over your face looking for your bluff, you weren’t kidding. He supported himself with one hand as the other slipped under his— your shirt, “You know May uses this couch.” 

You nod as you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in, “I know.” 

He groans when you grind against him, “It would be dirty of us, we shouldn’t.” 

You look in his eyes as he watches you pull up slightly pulling your shirt off, he glances at your chest before looking back at you. “We shouldn’t,” you agree with him as you shuffle your pajama shorts down your thighs, Peter lets out a room quieting gasp when you pull him from his pants. 

“Fuck you’re eager.” 

You lean up to place a kiss below his ear, “I’m just showing how much I missed you.” 

He let out another curse when you rolled your hips into his, “You’re dirty, so so dirty.” ————————-

Peter had woken you up from the couch around one in the morning, he had let you sleep through the last half of the movie you had started. And you were sleepy until he woke you up and started to push you towards his room and seeing his bedside lamp light up the room woke you up more. 

Rubbing at your eye you speak through a yawn, Peter still understands. 

“Course you can still sleep up top.” 

He pulls down his own sheet and shakes his own yawn, you start to climb up the ladder and notice the higher you got the shakier your knees became, then you slightly duck because you’re closer to the ceiling than you estimated. 

With a slight turn over your shoulder your tongue melts in your mouth, it’s higher up than what you thought. And sure, you’re not a kid and it’s just a bunk bed but it feels like all rational thinking went out the window, it was high up and you can’t help but think about the fall down. 

“Help?” 

Peter looked at you with a tilted head and his hands on his hips, he was about to ask ‘help with what?’ but rather used his detective skills and nodded his head. He crossed the room and followed you up the ladder, as he followed up you were able to comfortably sit on the top bunk. 

You crossed your legs with a small smile, like you didn’t just panic and ask for him to follow you up in case you somehow fell backwards. Peter’s eyebrows rise to ask if everything's okay, you open your arms for him to follow you down on the bed, you close him in with a tight hug. 

“I love you.” 

He laughs and places a kiss on your neck, “I love you too baby.” 

“Okay, I’m ready. Tuck me in and call it a night, dad.” 

Peter watched you shuffle under your blanket with a grunt at the title, he leaned over you to tuck in the sides so you were snuggled in. He pushed some hair out of your face and pressed a soft, longing kiss to your mouth. 

“Goodnight, trouble.” 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin, only a whisper left your mouth, “night.” 

Only lasting five minutes of silence in the dark room, which was your preference by the way, Peter didn’t mind if a light was on but you claimed you couldn’t sleep in the light. 

“It makes my eyelids see through, Peter.” 

“You’re so dramatic.”

You called out to Peter. 

“Pst, Peter.”

He has a stage whisper, “yeah?” 

“Have you ever been to summer camp?” 

He shuffles in bed, you think he’s pulling the blanket up. 

“I’m poor.” 

“I’ve never been either.”

“Notice you didn’t say you’re poor too?” 

“Money is a mindset, Peter.” 

“Sounds like you’re poor.” 

A sigh, “I am.” 

You hear him roll over, your own bed shakes with his jostle, you grip your sheets. Your slight edge sparked Peter’s senses. 

“You okay up there?” 

You wouldn’t object if he begged you to come sleep with him, but you were going to see out this childhood dream. 

“Yeah. I miss you.” 

He snorts, “Reach your hand down.” 

You follow his instructions and wiggle your arm through the side bars, his hand encases your own. For a moment everything settles and you almost ask for him to come join you, but you’re terrified of the bed shaking. 

“Couldn’t be further from you if I tried.” 

“Will you do this all night?” 

“And risk a frozen shoulder for you?” He shoots out, then adds, “Of course I would.” 

“Aw, you’re such a good friend!” 

His hand squeezes yours, “what kind of a friend?” 

You giggle, “the bestest!” 

“Wrong B word, dear.” 

You gasp, “ I don’t think you’re a bitch, Peter!”

He groans, “That’s it, fend for yourself. Goodnight, traitor.” 

Peter’s hand drops from yours and he turns towards the wall, you whine when he pulls away from you. “Fine then, goodnight, Parker.” 

You hear him mumble to himself and grin while you let sleep take over. 

——————————

Your phone said it was four twenty three in the morning. 

You wonder when Peter will wake up, if he would rise when the sun did or, more likely, sleep until you wake him up when you get too bored of entertaining yourself like you usually do. 

You have to pee, bad. 

You got as far as one step on the ladder then felt yourself slightly sway, you tried to find the next step but were too scared to extend your foot all the way to reach it. 

You tried looking back and cursed yourself for sleeping in the pitch black tonight, you were in limbo between sending it and hopping down and crawling back up and waving a white flag. 

Deciding you were a grown badass you forced yourself to take the next step and nearly slipped, Peter’s foot was resting right between the steps and his blanket made the step slick. You nearly fell backwards, in a rush you climbed back up and checked the time to see if you could wait it out. 

You were able to wait for ten minutes, then a cramp hit and all you can think about is the toilet ten steps away.

Calling quits you realize your only hope was Peter, and he was dead asleep judging by his snores. Nevertheless, you start to plead. 

“Peter?” A whisper. 

“Peter.” A little louder. 

He snores loudly at that one. 

“Peter!” A whisper shout. 

He’s not answering. 

He’s not answering, and he’s not awake, and you can’t get down, and you have to pee and you were the one that wanted this. 

You blink back tears, why do you want to cry? 

“Peter!” You spoke in a regular but quiet voice. 

He stays silent, you start to chant his name over and over, he doesn’t respond. 

On the fourth call your tears break through, you sigh heavily. Tears dripped down your chin into your hands, you called out one more time, begging. 

“Peter, please.” 

You sniffle, then let out a breath of fresh air. 

“Baby?” It’s raspy and spoken through a sharp inhale, he feels like cold water has been dumped on him. 

He stares at the slats above him like he has x-ray vision to see through them to you. 

“Peter! I can’t- I don’t know how- I have to-“ You start to breath heavy, your eyes flooding with panic and embarrassment, and you really fucking have to pee. 

Peter untangled himself to stand up, he pulled down a leg of his boxer briefs that had risen with his tossing and turning. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gasp for air, you feel the bed shake when he pulls at the ladder to pull himself up. You wrap your hands around your head, “I wanna get down, I wanna get down!” 

You repeat the words over and over until you feel hands over your own, the bed dips where Peter has his knees on either side of you. He wraps you tight in his arms, “It’s okay, you’re okay. We can get you down, it’s okay.” You wind your arms around his, tucking yourself in your neck to start to cry. 

Peter’s heart hurts, you’re scared. 

“You’re safe. I’m here, okay?” 

He feels your warm breath wash over his chest, you try and calm yourself down, it’s not as scary when Peter has you surrounded. 

“I couldn’t get down and you wouldn’t wake up.” 

Peter frowns between your studders, he hates that you were calling out for him and he didn’t hear it. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here now, okay? Wanna get down?” 

You nod into his neck, “I have to pee so bad.” 

Peter breathed through a smile and kissed the top of your head, “okay, let’s go pee.” He pulled himself away and started to go down the ladder, you watched him with wide eyes trying to memorize his steps so you could match. 

You looked up and noticed how close you were to the ceiling, your throat felt like it closed up. You could feel how shaky your knees were even looking at the space to go down, you figured you would wet the bed tonight. 

“I’m right here, trouble. I won’t let you fall, I promise.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t. I tried and I can’t.” 

Peter hums and looks around the room, he can’t carry you down. The physics wouldn’t allow him too, his only option was catching you. 

“Can you sit on the railing for me, baby?” 

You reached out a hand to wiggle it, it seemed sturdy. 

“Okay.” 

You white knuckled the banister when it creaked under your weight, “Peter, get me down, please get me down. I’m gonna freak out.” 

“I need you to trust me, sweetheart. Just drop.” 

You hold on tighter, your voice squeaks. “Drop?!” 

“I gotta catch you, I can’t carry you down, baby.” 

You look over to the window, the moon was lighting up one side of the room, you can barely make out his figure on the side of the bed. 

“Can you see me?” 

He lets out a small laugh, “Yes, baby, I can see you.” 

You buffer and hold up a hand, “How many fingers am I holding up?” The other hand has a vice grip to steady you.

“Four.” 

You whine, “I’m scared.” 

Peter’s heart hurts again. 

“I know you are, I promise I’ll catch you, okay?” 

“Okay.” You don’t sound very confident. 

“I’m gonna let go.” 

“I’m ready.” 

You loosen your grip then immediately double down. 

“Okay, I’m gonna drop now.” 

“Got it.” 

You stay there for another second. 

“Baby, you gotta let go.” 

“Be honest, will you be mad if I wet the bed?” 

“No, but how are you gonna get down after that?” 

You breathe in deeply, “I’m gonna actually do it, you promise you’ll catch me?” 

“I promise.” 

You loosen your hold to push off, “I’m about to let go.” 

“I’m right here.” 

You hold your breath and push off as hard as you could, your hair breezes and your body feels weightless for just a moment. Then you’re caught, hands wrap around your back and thighs, you feel yourself bounce in his hold then level out. 

“Caught you.” Peter’s voice is a whisper in your ear, you kick your legs to be let down. You immediately turn to wrap him in a hug, “thank you, I love you.” Then push him back to sprint to the bathroom. 

When you come back in he’s back in bed, his blanket open for you to join. You couldn’t help but feel like a little kid, but it was dark and high up and to be fair you couldn’t see where you were going. 

Sliding next to him his eyes open, “the first time I was on top bunk I was like, seven and I had a nightmare and I couldn’t get down and was screaming so loud May woke up and had to come rescue me.” 

“I didn’t realize I'd feel so trapped up there.” 

He hums, “It does feel like that, huh?”

“You were my hero tonight, you’re good at that. Maybe you should look into a job doing that.”

“I may have to look into it, I’m tired of being New York City’s Spider-Menace.” Then decides to add, “I’m sorry you were scared and needed me and I wasn’t waking up. You must’ve been petrified.” 

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna go up there again.” 

He laughs, “that’s okay.” 

You roll over to stick your face against his arm. “Sorry I woke you up.” 

“Your tears were coming through the slats, it was chinese water torture.” You open your mouth to bite at him, he grunts. “I’ll let you get away with that, you had a scary night.” 

“Remember earlier when we were talking about B words?” 

Peter hums, he’s falling back asleep. He never used to fall asleep so fast until he met you, having you tucked into his side always made him sleep soundly. 

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.” 

He opens his arm to pull you into him, “you make it easy.”